I_Nana_Firdausi

"Do you wish to know what will happen if I drink from your thighs?"

Salviana drew in a sharp breath before she whispered, "I might die?"

"No, It is I who will die if I don't," he met her eyes with a lustful hungry gaze, "Spread your legs for me, Fiery-wife"

And that she did...
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Fiery is married to the demon everybody feared would destroy them someday. He is the greenest reddest flag but now she only sees white. A canvas to paint their love however she deemed righteous.
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The Dark Prince, the third prince, is no stranger to the fear and hatred surrounding him. Cold, distant, and possessing a gaze as dark as midnight, he is known throughout the kingdom as the demon prince. But the truth hidden beneath his pale skin is far more dangerous—he is a vampire, living among a royal family that barely tolerates his existence.

Salviana, a divine lady of myth, never asked to be married to such a man. Forced into the union, she is thrust into a life where every corner holds a secret and every glance feels like a challenge. Though her husband’s cold touch sends shivers down her spine, Salviana finds herself drawn into his world of shadows and intrigue, struggling to understand the depths of his darkness.

With royal enemies watching their every move and Salviana’s own hidden powers slowly awakening, the bond between her and Alaric grows more complicated. 

Can she survive the dangerous world of court politics, where even her husband may not be fully trusted? Or will the weight of the secrets they keep tear them apart before they can discover the truth about each other?

Caught between fear and desire, Salviana can’t help but wonder: Will she uncover the man behind the darkness, or will the shadows consume them both?

Married to Darkness is a seductive, tension-filled journey into the unknown, where love and power clash in a dangerous dance that could lead to either salvation or destruction.


The cover is from Pinterest. Not Mine.
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Married To Darkness

The maid lowered her gaze, clearly uncomfortable, as Rowan straightened his shoulders.

Inside the room, muffled laughter could be heard—Genevieve, no doubt, mocking his persistence.

"I'm afraid I must insist—" Rowan began, but his words were interrupted by the loud, imperious voice of Genevieve herself.

"Tell him to leave! I don't have time for his groveling today."

Rowan's lips pressed into a thin line. His icy gray eyes flicked toward the closed door as if he could burn a hole through it with his gaze alone.

Still, he forced a thin, composed smile and took a step back.

"Very well," he muttered, more to himself than to the maid. "Her Highness always knows how to make a man feel welcome."

As he turned to leave, his mind churned. He didn't truly care for the princess—she was vain, insufferable, and utterly dismissive—but she was useful.

LonelinessThis Morning.