How dare he

The parchment curled at the edges as the flames devoured it, blackening the elegant script that had dared to defy her.

Malvoria stood before the brazier, watching the letter turn to ash. The firelight flickered against the dark stone of her throne room, casting long shadows across the polished floor.

Her gray eyes were locked on the burning words, fury simmering beneath her composed exterior.

"To the esteemed Demon Queen Malvoria,

Your offer has been considered and rejected.

Princess Elysia will never be given to a ruler as cruel and merciless as you.

You are feared, Malvoria, not respected. And I will not allow my daughter to be bound to a tyrant."

—King Thalor of Arvandor

The words echoed in her skull, each syllable like a blade carving into her pride.

Cruel. Merciless. Feared.

He dared.

He dared to refuse her.

She had sent that letter not as a plea, but as a command. No one denied Malvoria. No one was foolish enough to refuse what she demanded. And yet, the human king thought himself untouchable, thought his kingdom safe behind its walls of honor and righteousness.

Fool.

The brazier flared as the last of the letter disintegrated into embers. Her fingers twitched at her side, aching to destroy something more than parchment.

A shuffling noise caught her attention, and she turned slowly.

A guard stood near the door, frozen in place, his crimson armor gleaming under the dim torchlight. His expression was carefully blank, but she could smell the fear radiating off him.

Malvoria took a step forward, the heavy silence pressing down on the room like a storm about to break.

"Tell me," she said, her voice like silk stretched over steel, "do you think I am cruel?"

The guard swallowed hard. "N-No, my queen."

Her smile was slow, predatory. "No?"

She moved before he could react, closing the distance between them in an instant. Her fingers curled around his throat, lifting him with effortless strength. His hands scrambled against her grip, his legs kicking uselessly.

"No one refuses me," she whispered, her lips inches from his trembling face. "No one."

The heat in her palm increased, her magic surging with her rage. A faint glow illuminated her fingers as the scent of burning flesh filled the air.

The guard gasped, pain lacing his expression. His feet barely touched the ground as she held him there, her grip tightening.

A voice cut through the tension.

"Malvoria."

Her grip didn't loosen, but her head turned slightly.

Her mother stood at the entrance of the throne room, arms crossed, an unimpressed expression on her face.

"That's enough," the older demoness said, her sharp red gaze flicking between Malvoria and the struggling guard.

Malvoria let out a slow breath before releasing him. He collapsed to the floor, gasping and clutching at his throat, his skin red with burns.

"Leave," Malvoria ordered, her voice void of sympathy.

The guard wasted no time scrambling to his feet and bolting from the room.

Her mother watched him go before stepping closer, her expression unreadable. "I take it the answer was no."

Malvoria turned away, stalking back to her throne. "He insulted me," she growled. "Me. That pathetic king dared to think he could refuse me."

Her mother sighed, taking a seat on one of the smaller chairs beside the throne. "Not everyone bends to your will, Malvoria."

"They should."

A pause. Then, her mother leaned forward, propping her chin on her fist. "It's only a human girl. There are other options. I have a list of powerful women from noble demon families—"

"No." Malvoria's voice was sharp, final. She looked down at her mother, eyes blazing. "I will not be denied."

Her mother studied her for a moment, then sighed. "Is it truly about the girl, or is it about the insult?"

Malvoria's jaw tightened. "Both."

Her mother shook her head, amusement flickering in her gaze. "You're impossible."

Malvoria ignored her, straightening to her full height. "I offered peace," she said, her voice low and deadly. "I gave him the chance to surrender his daughter willingly. He refused."

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides.

"Then we take her by force."

She turned to the entrance of the throne room, her voice echoing through the halls.

"Get ready, soldiers. We are going to get her by force."