Marked by the Devil Introduction

𝓔𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓓𝓻𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓷

"𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕 𝕚𝕤𝕟'𝕥 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕤𝕦𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕗𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕪𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕤٫ 𝕤𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥. 𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪٫ 𝕀'𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕜𝕖𝕖𝕡𝕤 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕤𝕒𝕗𝕖."

She’s the kind of girl who walks into a room and owns it without even trying. Her deep brunette hair cascades in effortless waves, catching the light with rich, warm undertones wild yet beautiful, much like the fire in her spirit. Her eyes, sharp and knowing, always hold a spark of mischief, as if she’s one step ahead of everyone else. Her smile is her signature bright, confident, and infectious. It’s the kind of smile that disarms even the toughest hearts, the perfect mix of charm and challenge. She moves with an easy confidence, dressed in a way that’s effortlessly cool leather jackets, short skirts, and an attitude that says she’s afraid of nothing. Fiercely loyal, dangerously protective, and just reckless enough to be exciting, she’s the best friend you want in your corner. She’s the type to throw a punch for you without hesitation, but also the one who will drag you outside at 2 AM just to remind you that life is meant to be lived.

𝓙𝓾𝓵𝓲𝓾𝓼 𝓢𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓵𝓪𝓲𝓻

"𝕀 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕧𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕗𝕒𝕥𝕖٫ 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕚𝕗 𝕚𝕥 𝕓𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖٫ 𝕞𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕖 𝕀'𝕝𝕝 𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕣."

He’s the kind of guy who turns flirting into an art form smooth, effortless, and impossible to resist. Every move he makes is calculated yet relaxed, like he knows exactly the effect he has and enjoys every second of it. His dark eyes linger a second too long, his smirk always a little crooked, like he’s thinking something he shouldn’t say… but probably will anyway. He talks in low, teasing tones, every word laced with amusement, like he’s forever in on some private joke. And when he calls you darling, sweetheart, or trouble, it’s never just a name it’s a promise. His touch? Light, fleeting, always just enough to leave you wanting more. A brush of his fingers along your wrist, a slow tuck of your hair behind your ear completely innocent, yet somehow intoxicating. Dressed like temptation itself fitted shirts, rolled-up sleeves revealing strong forearms, and a leather jacket that somehow smells like sin—he moves through the world like it was made for him. He leans in close when he talks, just enough to make your breath hitch, and when he tilts his head, watching you with that knowing smirk, you realize you are in trouble. Because he doesn’t just flirt. He makes you feel like you’re the only one in the room. Like he could have anyone, but right now, it’s you he wants. And the most dangerous part? He’s so damn good at it, you almost believe him.