The palace bells rang, each toll echoed across the marble courtyard of EVARIS, where sunlight spilled like honey through the golden towers. The kingdom was breathtaking, a realm of eternal spring, where trees bloomed year round. Birds of radiant colours flew from rooftop to gardens to glass balconies.
The wind carried the sweet scent of lilac and sanctified incense.
But no beauty softened the weight that
Elyria carried.
Elyria knelt at the center of the ceremonial courtyard, her white gown circling around her. The silk clung to the curve of her breasts, molded to the narrows of her waist, and sat over her hips with divine elegance.
Celestial runes adorned the sleeves, symbols of her bloodline—House Seraphine, the holiest of the realm.
A crown of twisted gold sat upon her head. Her hair, braided, her eyes, dazed with sunlight, were fierce and unwilling.
The girl who had been raised on scriptures and virtues, Now given as a lamb.
But she was no lamb. She was a blade.
The priests spoke in high tongue, Words of peace, Of sacrifice. ~~Maybe~~. She barely heard him. Not when her eyes were fixed on the obsidian portal across the courtyard, the gateway to the Demon Realm.
In front of her stood the Nexus gate—a gate engraved with enchanted runes, flickering red with dark energy. It was the link between her world of light and the Demon Realm of Nox.
"To ensure lasting peace, as decreed in the Treaty of Ash and Mercy," intoned the High Priest, raising his staff up.
"Princess Elyria of House Seraphine shall be wed to Prince Kaelith Ravaryn of Nox."
Silence followed Not Fear, but uncertainty.
King Roderic (Elyria's father) stood besides his throne, surrounded by knights and ministers. His jaw clenched. His hands fisted around the handle of his ceremonial sword. He met Elyria's gaze briefly. His icy blue eyes held no comfort.
Maybe guilt, but Not comfort.
This marriage was not his will, but it was his agreement. The war had taken too many sons. Peace was the only path left.
A price must be paid.
Sadly, His daughter would be that price.
The air rippled.
She could feel it. The tension in the air thickened like a coming storm.
The gate pulsed.
And then he stepped through.
Kaelith Ravaryn, The Demon Prince.
He was a one man Army.
Gasps broke through the crowd. Even the knights gripped their blades.
Kaelith was tall, impossibly so, with shoulders broad enough to cast shadows on those around him. His armor was forged in obsidian, with veins that looked like flowing blood. His hair fell past his shoulders, black as night, tied at the back with a clasp made of bone.
And his eyes, gods, his eyes.
Eyes like night split by flame. Smoldering, they seemed to see everything at once. They swept over the crowd like a predator before landing on her.
Her stomach rumbled, rage curling inside her ribcage
He descended the steps toward where she knelt, each step a provocation. She didn't flinch. He stopped just before her, Towering.
She rose from her kneeling position, spine straight, chin high. If she was to be given like an offering, then she will stand like a dagger, not a lamb.
"The holy bride stands," he said, voice smoky and with amusement. "Here I thought you'd be trembling."
"And I thought demons had better manners."
Soft chill ran through the courtyard.
His mouth curled into a wicked smile. "You wound me already."
He extended a gloved hand. "Princess Elyria," with a bow
Do you accept the contract forged in ash and Mercy?
His Mercy.
She stared at his hand. It felt like heat surrounded him. Her pulse thudded. But her voice did not waver.
"I do," she said, and slid her fingers into his.
The air cracked.
Magic flared when they touched, golden light clashing with infernal red.
The High Priest raised his staff. "Let the Binding Rite Begin"
From the altar, a bowl of sacred fire rose into the air. Incantations circled them like a storm. Sigils formed in the space between their clasped hands, ancient and unyielding. A burning seal etched itself into their wrists, twin marks of union.
It hurts, but Elyria made no sound.
Kaelith barely blinked.
Then he leaned in, his lips brushing her temple.
"Such soft hands," he murmured, "hard to imagine them holding a blade."
She smiled without warmth. "I don't need a blade."
He laughed a low, sinful sound. "Careful, bride. I may come to enjoy your sharpness."
The seal completed with a burst of light.
"The bond is sealed," the priest said. "May your union bring peace to both realms."
Kaelith turned to the gathered crowd, his expression unreadable.
"I'll take my bride now."
And then, without waiting, he pulled Elyria toward him and landed a kissed.
Gasps erupted.
Exactly the reaction he wanted.
His mouth was cool, demanding, mocking. Not sweet. Not gentle.
A claim.
Elyria didn't return it but she didn't pull away from it, either. Her spine locked. Her hands still curled into his. Her eyes stayed open. She endured.
When he pulled away, she whispered near his ear, "Try that again in private, and I'll bite."
Kaelith smirked. "Promise?"
Before she could answer, shadows wrapped around them and they vanished through the gate.
**The Demon Realm - Nox**
The journey through the portal was not a gentle crossing.
Elyria stumbled as they emerged from darkness. Not the absence of light, but a living shadow that pushed like breath filled with ancient power. She hit the ground with a gasp, one hand braced against obsidian tiles that pulsed, it felt alive.
Kaelith stood unbothered, a dark monolith amid a realm of flame and stone.
The throne room of Nox loomed around her.
It was vast, Like a cathedral, carved in the heart of a black mountain. Pillars made of crystal leading towards a ceiling veined with molten lava. The air felt warm, Braziers burned with silver blue fire, casting long shadows against walls decorated with bones.
And eyes.
So many eyes.
Demons lined the room. Courtiers, generals, noblebloods of every twisted variety. Horned and winged, beautiful and grotesque. Some lounged like predators at rest. Others stood straight, radiating Fear. All of them stared at her.
The human bride.
Elyria rose slowly, brushing her gown off like she owned the room. "Lovely. Smells like brimstone and ego."
Kaelith's mouth twitched. "You'll get used to it."
I'd rather not stay long enough to.
The demons murmured, a ripple of dark amusement.
"Unfortunately for you," he said, voice low,
you now belong to Nox.
She met him halfway across the blackstone floor, chin high.
I belong to no one. Least of all a cursed prince Pretending to a king.
His eyes narrowed, but not in anger, In interest.
He stepped Close now. Too close.
Kaelith tilted his head, studying her. "Careful, little thorn. You're in my world now. My court. My bed, if I choose."
She met his eyes, fearless. "Then I hope you get used to sleeping alone."
For a moment, neither spoke. The tension in the room grew thick, electric.
Perhaps this wouldn't be as dull as he thought.
Then he chuckled. A low, dangerous sound. "Perhaps I should have asked for a docile bride."
"You should have asked for a spine to match your ego."
Gasps.
Somewhere, a demon choked on its wine.
Kaelith turned slightly to the court, With a wave of his hand. The assembled demons bowed and dispersed, Only his voice remained, low and with a rather intriguing amusement.
"I thought this would be a dull arrangement," he said. "A human girl brought to heel for the sake of politics."
Elyria raised a brow. "And now?"
His gaze lingered on her lips. "Now I wonder."
This will be interesting.
She took a deliberate step back. "Don't mistake my defiance for amusement."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
She looked around the throne room again. "Is this where you planned to chain me? Or do you prefer more private quarters for your conquests?"
Kaelith walked past her, up the stairs toward the massive throne carved from volcanic Crystals. He seated himself lazily, lounging like a mad king.
"This realm has its customs," he said. "You'll learn them and You'll follow them."
"And if I don't?"
His grin was slow and wicked. "Then I imagine our union will be quite... exciting."
She crossed her arms. "You keep saying 'union' as if this is more than a transaction."
He studied her again, more carefully now.
Tell me something, Elyria. Do you believe in prophecy?
She blinked. "What does prophecy have to do with any of this?"
"Everything."
He snapped his fingers.
A door creaked open. Some figures entered, silent and cloaked in gray They Carried a stone basin carved with symbols older than either of their realms. Inside it, swirling light, white and red, glowing like twin flames.
"The Binding Ceremony was not complete," Kaelith said. "That was politics. This is real magic."
Elyria frowned. "What is that?"
"The Soulbrand."
One of the priests approached her. He held a ceremonial dagger with blade of obsidian and bone. Another held out a silk cloth. A third carried a scroll bound in thorns.
"Your blood, your oath, your seal. Without it, the bond between us will unravel."
Elyria hesitated. The power in the room shifted, pulling tight.
"Do it," she said, voice cold.
She took the blade herself, dragging it across her palm. Her blood dripped into the basin, mixing with the flames.
Kaelith did the same. Their blood swirled together, bright against the black stone.
Then the basin flared and a ribbon of fire lashed outward.
It seared into both their wrists, over the old sigils, burning brighter, deeper, more alive. Their bodies stiffened, bound by invisible force.
The priest spoke: "Let the ancient oath be witnessed. Let the bond take root. Let fire and faith become one."
Kaelith stepped forward.
His voice was different now. Lower. Ritualistic.
"By ash and flame, I bind myself to you. Not for love. Not for want. For the balance between realms."
Elyria met his words with her own.
"By light and vow, I bind myself to you. Not for mercy. Not for peace. But to keep the scales from breaking."
The light blazed between them. The sigil on their skin transformed, burning through the earlier bond and becoming something more intricate, something alive.
A mythic symbol.
Elyria swayed on her feet, breath slower. Kaelith caught her by the elbow.
"Still standing," he said, impressed.
She jerked away.
"You'll have to do better than that. Nox is not a realm that favors the weak."
"I'm not Weak."
Kaelith paused. A flicker of admiration passed through his gaze. "Good."
He turned to the priests. "Leave us."
The room emptied.
Silence returned.
Kaelith leaned back against the throne. "We begin tomorrow. You will learn our history. Our rules. Our enemies."
"Let me guess, and your games?" She was being sarcastic
"Especially the games."
"Games?" she echoed, chin tilted.
He leaned up again, brushing a lock of hair from his face. "Yes, little bride. And I do hope you're good at losing."
She turned toward the doors. "Then I suggest you rest, demon. Soon, you'll learn I don't lose."
Kaelith watched her, the new brand still glowing faintly on her wrist.
He smiled.
"I look forward to it, bride."
**The First Night in Nox**
The halls felt like it whispered her name.
Elyria walked beside Kaelith in tense silence, her ceremonial gown dragging like smoke behind her. Demonic architecture towered above them, chandeliers suspended by chains that glowed with sigils. The palace pulsed like a living heart. Warm and watching.
Yet, it was quiet.
She expected snarling beasts. Grotesque wails.
Instead, it was eerily civilized.
"Is this how you welcome all your brides?" Elyria asked, breaking the silence with a pointed look. "Or am I the only one you've dragged from a temple to a tomb?"
Kaelith glanced at her, a curl of amusement in his lips. "You give yourself too much credit. I only drag stubborn ones. The others come willingly."
"Lucky them."
"Unlucky you," he murmured.
Or perhaps not. You haven't seen your chambers yet.
They turned a corner, flanked by two silent guards with serpentine eyes. Elyria's heels clicked against the polished floors, echoing like distant drums. Kaelith led her to a tall door laid with gold stones, etched in runes she couldn't read but felt. Ancient and Protective.
He opened it with a flick of his fingers, and light poured out.
Elyria blinked.
The room was...beautiful.
Not in the way the holy palace was beautiful, clean and celestial, kissed by marble and light but in a darker, more intoxicating way. Crimson silk draped the bed. blue flames burned low in the corner, casting long shadows over thick rugs and mythic furniture. The Mirrors gleamed in the corners, and above the bed a view, decorated with black opals.
The scent of incense curled through the air.
"Expecting me to swoon?" Elyria asked flatly, stepping inside.
"No," Kaelith said as he leaned on the doorframe. "Just hoping you don't stab me in my sleep."
She turned slowly. "Who says I won't come looking for your throat?"
He smirked. "That's why your room is next to mine. Close enough that I can hear your footsteps. Far enough that you won't wake up in my bed by mistake."
Elyria arched a brow. "And if I wanted to?"
Kaelith's smile deepened, dark and gleaming. "Then you'd better learn to knock."
They stared at each other, in silence.
Magic hung heavy in the air, unrestrained.
"You'll find clothing inside," Kaelith said after a beat, stepping back into the hall. "A demon seamstress took your measurements the moment you arrived."
"I didn't notice."
"Oh, she noticed everything."
He turned away.
"Kaelith."
He paused at the sound of his name in her voice. No title. No scorn. Just a name, spoken quietly.
"You really believe this marriage will keep peace?"
Kaelith didn't face her. His profile was all harsh lines.
"I believe," he said, voice low, "that peace has never been forged without blood. You just happen to be the blood."
With that, he left her.
---
Later That Night
Elyria couldn't sleep.
The bed was too soft. The silence too thick. The sheets, though perfumed, felt foreign against her skin. She'd changed into a dark velvet nightgown provided by the house too elegant, too sheer. She wore it anyway, arms crossed now.
What am I doing here?
The question echoed. Her hands still tingled from the binding seal burned into her wrist. The sigil glowed with faint light, an intricate design were light interlocked with darkness.
They had sealed her with Kaelith's magic.
And yet… she didn't feel claimed. She felt watched.
A soft knock broke her thoughts.
Not loud. Not demanding.
She opened the door, half-expecting Kaelith.
It was Kaelith but not in armor.
He wore black pants, barefoot, and a sleeveless tunic that revealed scars tracing the length of his arms like ancient script. His long hair was unbound, brushing past his shoulders.
Elyria's caught her eyes.
He looked less like a prince and more like a predator with manners.
"You're awake," he said, tilting his head.
You're lurking.
"I brought something."
He held up a small glass vial. Blue. Glowing. "Dreamwine. It will help you rest. You seemed... tense."
Elyria raised a brow. "You're giving me a potion from the Demon Realm?"
"Do you think I'd poison my new wife on the first night?"
I think you'd enjoy the drama of it.
Kaelith chuckled. "True, but not this."
She hesitated, then took the vial, her fingers brushing his. The contact sent a jolt down her spine.
Their eyes locked.
Neither moved.
Finally, Kaelith's gaze dipped to the neckline of her gown. It was subtle. But not unseen.
"You dress like someone who expects admirers," he said quietly.
"I sleep like someone who expects to fight."
"Then you always fight beautifully?"
"Do you always flirt with your prisoners?"
"Only the ones who look like that"
A silence settled, slow and simmering.
Then Elyria took a step back.
"I don't need your wine, Kaelith."
He smirked. "Then keep it in case you change your mind. Or dream of me."
"I'd dream of your death."
"Then it'll be a beautiful death," he said softly, Then disappeared down the hall.