The Demon Queen’s Cage

Evelyne awoke to the dim glow of enchanted lanterns casting soft blue light across the walls. For a moment, she forgot where she was.

Then, reality crashed down on her like a tidal wave.

She was in the Demon King's fortress.

A prisoner in the Underworld.

Her room was far more luxurious than she expected. The bed was massive, draped in soft black and silver sheets. Dark wood furniture decorated the space, intricate carvings of celestial patterns running along the edges. A grand arched window overlooked the Demon King's realm, revealing an eerie but strangely breathtaking landscape of twisted forests and rivers of glowing lava.

Despite the beauty, it was still a gilded cage.

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

Before she could respond, the door swung open, and Lyria stepped inside.

The demon woman carried herself with effortless grace, her violet eyes cool and unreadable. "You slept late."

Evelyne sat up, scowling. "Did I have a choice?"

Lyria smirked. "No. But you do now."

She set a tray of food on the nearby table—a selection of fruit, warm bread, and something that looked like smoked meat. The scent made Evelyne's stomach tighten.

"I don't expect you to trust us yet," Lyria said, leaning against the wall. "But you should eat. The king doesn't like repeating himself, and you have a meeting with him soon."

Evelyne hesitated before reaching for a piece of bread. "Does he always demand things of people first thing in the morning?"

Lyria chuckled. "No. You're special."

Evelyne narrowed her eyes. "I don't feel special."

"That's because you don't understand your place here yet."

Evelyne's grip on the bread tightened. "My place?"

Lyria tilted her head. "You're not a prisoner, but you're not free either. You're caught between two worlds now, Princess."

Evelyne's chest tightened. She hated how true those words felt.

"Come," Lyria said. "The king is waiting."

Evelyne followed Lyria through the grand halls of the fortress. The more she saw, the more it unsettled her. This was not a kingdom of mindless savagery—it was organized, powerful, thriving.

And Azrael ruled it all.

When they reached the throne room, the massive doors creaked open, revealing the Demon King seated on his obsidian throne.

He looked effortlessly regal, his golden eyes sharp as a blade, his dark robes flowing around him like living shadows.

Evelyne's pulse quickened, but she forced herself to stand tall. She refused to show weakness.

Azrael regarded her with quiet amusement. "You're braver than I expected."

She frowned. "What does that mean?"

"Most humans tremble when they stand before me."

"I'm not most humans."

Azrael's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "No, you're not."

His gaze held hers for a long moment before he leaned forward. "Let's get to the point. You will be my wife. But I do not expect love, nor do I require your obedience."

Evelyne's breath caught. What?

Azrael's expression was unreadable. "This is a political alliance, nothing more. As long as you do not conspire against me, you will have freedom within these walls. However, if you betray me, I will not be merciful."

Evelyne's heart pounded. "And if I refuse?"

Azrael leaned back, his golden eyes darkening. "You won't."

She clenched her fists. He was right. She had no choice.

Azrael studied her reaction, then sighed. "I will not force you to be my queen in name alone. You have a role to play, Evelyne. You can fight me, or you can find your place here."

The way he said her name sent a strange shiver down her spine.

She hated him.

And yet, deep down, a small voice whispered that he was not the monster she had expected.

"I want access to the library," she said suddenly.

Azrael arched a brow. "The library?"

"If I'm to be your queen, I need to understand this world."

He studied her for a long moment before nodding. "Very well."

Lyria shot her a surprised look but said nothing.

Evelyne exhaled slowly. She had just made a deal with a demon king.

She had no idea if she would regret it.