“I think I'd miss you even if we’d never met,” Azrael whispered as his fingers trailed the side of her face, leaving an alluring warmth.
Anna’s throat became dry, “We shouldn’t have met then―”
“No,” he said, “Even if it means losing everything, I would rather have you.”
They were destined to fall from the start. A forsaken bond. A hopeless cause. And yet, in that stolen moment, Anna didn’t care anymore, neither did he.
* * * 
Anna is a human in a world where her kind is treated like dust, while Azrael is the demon duke infamous for his ruthlessness and bewitching looks.
On a fateful night, her life gets entangled with him. Azrael takes her as his fiance, however, theirs is a relationship formed over a contract; a marriage of convenience.
In a land where the hatred between humans and demons runs deeper than blood, she can not let her guard down. 
Anna harbors no feelings for the handsome duke, nor for his kind. Though that doesn’t stop her heart from stuttering whenever he’s near, nor the ghost of a familiar fear to surge at the sound of his voice.
But he’s always near.
Telling her what to do.
Making her feel warmer, hotter than he should.
* * * 
To yearn for someone who is forbidden to you is a terrifying feeling. To burn from desire and never speak of it, to have a secret that is horrible to almost everyone, to hide something that could ruin everything.
This is a story carved in hidden desires, inked in blood, and sealed with a fatal sin. Will Anna make it out alive? Or will her heart lead to her downfall?

The Duke's Secret Sin

The weight of those mixed gazes made Anna feel bare. It was hard to ignore and the weight was gradually drowning her but at least a few of the guests were supportive, and strangely, that made things much better even though they were demons. 


Especially the young ladies; they had to be the most excited as they swarmed her with many questions regarding her relationship with Azrael. 


Anna recited the answers Azrael had given in the ball but more often than not, she found herself unable to come up with any proper answer. For instance, when Lady Clarissa lowered her voice and asked with genuine curiosity. 


"But you must know how babies are made!" she whispered, "The newspaper claimed that-" 


"Oh, hush, Clarissa!" Lady Elizabeth exclaimed, "You can not ask people how babies are made!" 


"Don't tell me you are not curious," Clarissa murmured sadly, "Miss Anastasia seems so friendly, I am sure she will let us know." 


An Anonymous Author