Arianna sat frozen on the edge of the massive bed, her entire world unraveling around her.
This isn't real. It can't be real.
But the raw ache in her wrist where Damien had touched her—the eerie warmth still lingering on her skin—told her otherwise. He was no illusion. No hallucination. And no ordinary man.
He was something else entirely. Something monstrous.
And she was his.
Her hands clenched into the silk sheets, trying to steady herself as the room swayed around her. The walls—black marble streaked with silver veins—seemed to pulse as if the very foundation of this place was alive. Flickering blue flames cast ominous shadows across the high, vaulted ceiling. The air was thick, humming with an unnatural energy that made her skin prickle.
Damien stood across from her, watching with infuriating calmness. His silver eyes gleamed, dark and knowing, like a predator indulging in the fear of its prey.
She hated how effortless his presence was. How he made her feel small in comparison.
Arianna swallowed hard, forcing the rising panic down her throat. "This contract," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "this so-called debt—what does it mean?"
Damien tilted his head slightly. "It means exactly what it states. You are my wife, bound to me for eternity."
A tremor ran through her.
Wife.
The word sent a cold shiver down her spine.
Her fingers curled into fists. "And if I refuse?"
A flicker of amusement crossed his face. "You already know the answer to that."
Arianna shot to her feet. "Then kill me," she snarled, her voice shaking with rage. "If I have no choice, if I'm just some piece in your twisted game, then go ahead and end it now. I'd rather be dead than be your prisoner."
For the first time, Damien's smirk vanished.
The air in the room plunged into an unnatural cold, making the candles flicker violently. The silver in his eyes darkened into something more dangerous, more ancient.
In a blink, he was in front of her.
Arianna gasped, stepping back, but her spine hit the cold marble wall. Damien didn't touch her—he didn't have to. His presence alone suffocated the space around them.
He leaned in, his voice a whisper of dark silk.
"I don't kill what belongs to me, Arianna."
She swallowed hard, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. "I don't belong to you."
His smirk returned, but there was something wicked behind it now. His hand lifted—slowly, deliberately—before brushing a single fingertip along the column of her throat.
Arianna flinched, but his touch wasn't painful. It was hot, burning, as if his very skin carried the flames of Hell.
"You will," he murmured.
The words sent a shudder through her. A promise. A threat.
She clenched her jaw, willing herself not to tremble. "You can threaten me all you want, but I'll never accept this."
Damien chuckled. "You misunderstand, little wife. I don't need you to accept it." His fingers trailed to her wrist, pressing lightly over her pulse. "It is already sealed. Your soul recognizes me. The contract is unbreakable."
Arianna yanked her hand away, her nails digging into her palms. "No. There has to be a way out."
A flicker of something unreadable crossed Damien's expression—something that almost looked like… intrigue?
He studied her for a long moment before stepping back, giving her space. The cold in the air lifted, but his presence still lingered, pressing into her senses.
"There is a way out," he said finally.
Arianna's heart stuttered. "What?"
Damien's silver eyes gleamed. "You must fulfill the contract."
She frowned. "That doesn't make sense. If I'm already bound to you, then what else is there?"
His smirk widened. "You must complete the bond."
Her stomach twisted. "What does that mean?"
Damien's voice dropped lower. Darker.
"It means becoming my wife in every sense of the word."
Arianna's pulse spiked. "You mean—"
His smirk deepened, and a wicked glint flickered in his gaze.
"You're not stupid, Arianna. You know exactly what I mean."
Her face burned with anger and humiliation. "Go to hell."
Damien chuckled, stepping away completely. "I already live there, darling."
Arianna's hands clenched at her sides. "If I refuse?"
His smirk vanished. "Then the contract will force it upon you."
Her blood ran cold. "What?"
Damien exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair. "You are bound to me by blood and soul, Arianna. If you resist, the magic of the contract will break you apart—slowly, painfully. You will become nothing but an empty shell, a soulless husk trapped in eternal agony."
Arianna's breath hitched.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "That's a lie."
But she saw it in his eyes. The truth.
Arianna staggered back, pressing a trembling hand to her chest. "You're telling me… I either become your wife—in every way—or I die?"
Damien didn't blink. "Yes."
A sharp, choking sob escaped her throat. "You're a monster."
His expression remained unreadable. "I never claimed to be anything else."
Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "I will never love you."
Damien stepped closer, his silver eyes locking onto hers. "You say that now," he murmured. "But time has a way of changing even the most stubborn of hearts."
Arianna glared at him. "I'd rather hate you for eternity."
His smirk returned. "Hate is a passionate emotion, little wife. It's not so different from love."
Her entire body shook with rage. Fear. Desperation.
And Damien?
He only looked amused.
Arianna sucked in a sharp breath, steeling herself. She couldn't break. She wouldn't break.
She would find a way out of this.
No matter what it took.
But as Damien turned away, his dark presence still clinging to the air, she couldn't shake the terrible feeling that this was only the beginning.
And she was already falling.