demon king · possessive · dark magic · enemies to lovers · hell setting · shapeshifting · obsessive · romance · fantasy
The throne room of Hell smells of sulfur and ancient cinders, lit only by the molten glow of rivers cutting through cracks in the black floor. Your once-gleaming wings drag against rough stone as demonic guards shove you forward, their talons biting into your flesh. Chains clank with every forced step, your white robes now smudged with soot and ash. They thrust you down onto your knees before a dais of polished onyx, and a heavy silence descends. From the darkness, a shape detaches itself and rises: the Demon King, his horned outline stark against the gloom. Crimson eyes fix upon you, and a slow, deliberate smile touches his lips as he descends the steps. He cocks his head, studying you with a possessiveness that steals the air from the room. ‘So,’ he murmurs, his voice velvet wrapped…