a marriage of convenience

The wedding was over.

The champagne had been poured, the guests had celebrated, and the meaningless vows had been exchanged. Yet as Damian and Serena left the grand hall behind and stepped into the cold night, there was no warmth between them. No lingering touches. No whispered affections. It was as if the dance have never happened as if it had all been act

Only duty.

And an agreement neither of them could escape.

A Marriage of Convenience

Damian's villa was as grand as expected—tucked away from prying eyes, surrounded by sprawling cliffs and dark waters. A place fit for someone of his status.

A place fit for a prince.

Serena had known about his title, but hearing it and seeing what it meant were two different things.

The Forbidden Island.

A land shrouded in mystery, where the supernatural walked freely. The only place in the world where creatures like them didn't have to pretend.

Serena had spent months digging into its history, but the details were scarce. What she did know was that Damian belonged to its ruling family—one with absolute control over the island. And if his father was anything like Damian, then he was a man who would not be crossed.

Which explained this.

The ridiculous two-year condition.

"You're awfully quiet." Damian's voice pulled her from her thoughts. He was leaning against the doorway of his study, his suit jacket long discarded, the first few buttons of his shirt undone. "That's unlike you."

Serena's gaze flickered to him. "I was just thinking about your father."

His expression darkened. "Don't."

"Why? Because he's the reason we're trapped in this farce for two years?"

Damian exhaled sharply, stepping toward her. "You knew what you were getting into. If we divorce before the time is up, I lose my claim to the throne. And I'm not letting that happen."

Serena studied him, unbothered. "And if I wanted to leave?"

"You won't." His voice was firm. "You agreed to this."

She had.

Not because of love. Not because of obligation.

Because she wanted something in return.

The Forbidden Island held secrets, and she had every intention of uncovering them. If being Damian's wife was the key to stepping onto that land, then so be it.

Serena tilted her head, a smirk playing on her lips. "For someone who's so eager to be free of me, you seem awfully confident I'll stay."

Damian's gaze locked onto hers, unreadable. "We'll see, won't we?"

A silent challenge passed between them.

This marriage was nothing more than a game. A battle of wills.

And neither of them intended to lose.

Separate Lives, Same House

Despite the wedding, they both made one thing clear—separate rooms, separate lives.

Serena claimed a bedroom on the opposite end of the villa, one that overlooked the ocean. The moon cast silver light over the water, its waves crashing against the rocks below.

A siren's call.

Her place of comfort.

Yet despite the vast space between them, she felt Damian's presence. Even when he wasn't near, his energy lingered in the halls, like an ever-present storm waiting to strike.

And Serena?

She was ready to meet him head-on.

________________________________

Damian rarely slept.

Being a creature of the night, sleep was an indulgence he didn't require. But exhaustion sometimes caught up with him—especially after a long day of dealing with his new wife.

Tonight was one of those nights.

Or at least, it should have been.

Yet as he lay in bed, something stirred within him. A presence. A pull.

At first, he ignored it, dragging himself to the kitchen to pour a glass of rich, red liquid. The taste should have soothed him, but instead, something else took hold of his senses.

A sound.

A song.

Low and haunting, carrying through the halls like a whisper from another world.

Damian froze. His grip tightened around the glass as a shiver ran through him. He knew this song.

Or rather, he had heard it before. In his nightmares.

His feet moved before he could stop himself, following the melody like a man possessed. It lured him through the dimly lit corridors, guiding him closer, closer—until the song stopped.

The trance shattered.

Damian inhaled sharply, blinking as he realized where he was standing.

Serena's door.

His jaw clenched. What the hell am I doing here?

He had no memory of walking here, no logical reason to be standing outside her room like a fool drawn in by her magic. And yet… here he was.

And he knew.

Serena wasn't just any woman. She never had been.

She was cunning. Calculated. Dangerous.

A woman who knew exactly how to pull people into her grasp.

Damian had met many powerful beings in his life, but none like her. She wasn't the kind to use brute force—no, she had a far deadlier weapon.

Temptation.

She could draw people in, make them dance at her fingertips, make them lose themselves without even realizing it.

And worst of all?

She enjoyed it.

Turning on his heel, he prepared to leave before he could make a bigger mistake.

But then—

The door creaked open.

His breath hitched.

Serena stood in the doorway, bathed in the moonlight.

Her red hair cascaded over her bare shoulders, the silk of her nightdress clinging to every curve. It was thin, barely covering anything at all, and Damian's throat went dry.

For the first time that night, he regretted coming here.

Because if she noticed the way his eyes darkened, if she saw the way his body tensed in response to her… she would use it against him.

__________________________

Serena felt it before she saw him.

A presence.

Heavy, dark, undeniable.

Even through the thick walls of the villa, she could sense Damian standing just beyond her door.

He was still. Unmoving.

Listening.

Serena wasn't surprised. She had noticed it before—how his instincts were razor-sharp, how he was attuned to things others would overlook. But for him to be standing outside her door in the middle of the night?

That was something else entirely.

A smirk tugged at her lips as she reached for the door handle.

The moment she swung it open, Damian turned, caught mid-step, his expression unreadable.

"Well, well," she mused, tilting her head. "And here I thought you preferred to keep your distance. What are you doing lurking outside my door at this hour, husband?"

Her voice dripped with amusement, but her eyes gleamed with teasing

Damian's jaw tensed. "Don't flatter yourself," he said smoothly. "I was simply checking to make sure you weren't causing any damage to my property."

Serena arched a brow. Property?

He was good at this—keeping himself cold, detached. But the way his fingers flexed at his sides, the way his throat bobbed ever so slightly as he looked at her—she knew he wasn't unaffected.

Sirena leaned against the doorframe, the silk of her nightdress shifting as she crossed her arms. "Such a caring husband, checking in on his wife."

Damian's eyes darkened. "You are not my wife."

Something in his voice was sharp. Final.

"You never will be."

Serena should have let it roll off her shoulders.

She knew this marriage was nothing but a transaction. A necessary arrangement, nothing more.

But hearing it from his mouth, so bluntly stated, sent an unexpected flicker of something through her.

Annoyance?

No.

Something else.

Something she didn't have time to dissect.

So she simply smirked. "Oh, Damian," she drawled. "And yet, here you are, in the middle of the night, outside my door."

His expression flickered, but only for a moment.

Then, stepping closer, he leaned in just enough to lower his voice.

"Stay in your limits, Serena." His breath was cool against her skin. "Play your little games, but don't forget—you're here for a reason. We both are."

She met his gaze, unflinching. "Believe me, I haven't forgotten."

Because she had a secret to uncover.

And no matter how tempting Damian was, no matter how sharp their battles became—she would not let herself be distracted.

Not by him.

Not by anyone.

With that, Damian stepped back, his control firmly in place once more.

And as he walked away, Serena watched, fingers curling at her sides.