Married to the King of darkness

Iris stood at the entrance of the aisle, her breath shallow, her fingers trembling against the fabric of her gown. This wasn’t a wedding—it felt more like a coronation into something ancient and cursed. The hall was vast and hauntingly beautiful, lit by silver chandeliers that cast eerie shadows across the dark marbled floor. Tall, arched windows let in no light—only the flickering of cold moonfire torches along the walls.

This wasn’t ordinary.

This wasn’t right.

It felt like she was walking into a beautifully crafted nightmare.

She took a tentative step forward, then another. Every eye turned to her—yet not in admiration. No one smiled. No soft music played. And certainly, no joy lingered in the air.

Among the sparse guests were familiar faces: her mother and father, stiff and sorrowful; Mr. Smith and Kyle, both silent; Nina offering her a small, encouraging smile; Georgina, arms crossed, glaring. The rest were strangers—elegant, expressionless figures whose presence alone made Iris’s skin crawl.

Her footsteps faltered.

What if this is all some elaborate cult?

What if my parents lied?

What if this is some cruel, gothic prank?

But then her thoughts spiraled back to earlier that day—the confrontation with those inhuman goons who had tried to stop her from escaping. Their strength, their speed, their eyes…

No. This was no joke.

“Iris!” Nina’s voice called gently from the front.

But Iris couldn’t move.

Her pulse quickened. Her vision blurred with rising panic.

“I—I can’t do this,” she whispered. She turned to her parents, eyes wide, voice cracking. “I’m sorry. Mom, Dad… I can’t.”

And then she ran.

She turned on her heel, clutching her gown, heart hammering in her chest as she bolted back down the aisle. But before she could reach the end of the hall, a dark blur flashed before her. In the blink of an eye, strong arms seized her, lifting her effortlessly off the ground.

Dylan.

His cold, unreadable gaze met hers for just a moment before he carried her—without a word—toward the ceremonial altar.

“No! Let me go!” she cried, thrashing in his grip.

But he didn’t. And no one moved to stop him.

In the next few minutes, it was all a blur. The vows were spoken—by him. The officiator pronounced them husband and wife. Iris never got a chance to say anything at all. No one dared to question. The entire room seemed under a spell.

Then, with a cold smirk, Dylan turned to the guests.

“My little wife is just tired,” he announced with mocking charm. “Let’s give her some rest.”

He carried her back to her room, ignoring her every struggle.

When the door shut behind them, he dropped her—not violently, but carelessly—onto the velvet-padded chaise.

“Just stay here,” he said coolly. “And don’t cause trouble.”

Iris glared at him, her chest rising and falling with rage. “You forced me into this—do you think I’ll just quietly play house now?”

Dylan’s eyes narrowed. He stepped closer, towering over her. “Don’t misunderstand. Just because we’re married now doesn’t mean I’ll be playing husband.”

He tossed a thick folder onto her lap.

“Here. Read it. Sign it. It’s a contract. We’ll remain married for one year. After that, I’ll file for divorce. Until then—you’ll pretend to be the perfect wife.”

Iris flung the folder aside. “Why should I obey you? You’re not my master.”

His smile turned deadly. “Foolish girl,” he whispered, leaning in close enough that his breath brushed against her skin. “You know who I am now. You’ve seen what I am. A vampire.”

She swallowed hard, the fear she’d tried to bury creeping up her spine.

“I can’t harm you because of the agreement,” he continued, his voice like velvet over thorns. “But your family? Your little friend Zoey?”

Iris’s breath hitched.

“I could end them with a flick of my wrist,” he said flatly. “So unless you want their blood on your hands—you will obey me.”

His words cut deeper than any blade.

He turned and walked toward the door. Just before he opened it, he looked back.

“One year, Iris. Play the part. Or start digging graves.”

And then he was gone.

Iris had no choice.

With trembling hands and tear-streaked cheeks, she signed the contract. Her name now sat in black ink at the bottom of the page—binding her to a man she didn’t understand, to a world she never chose.

The weight of it all crushed her. The gown clung to her like a cage, the silence in the room felt deafening, and her chest ached in ways words couldn’t reach. She curled up on the cold floor, still in her wedding dress, tears quietly falling as sleep slowly pulled her under.

By the time Dylan returned, the moon had risen higher, casting soft silver light through the tall windows. He paused at the doorway, eyes landing on her small, crumpled form on the ground. Her breathing was soft and uneven, like she’d cried herself to sleep.

He sighed and shook his head.

“Foolish girl,” he muttered, walking toward her. “Always choosing the hardest way.”

Without much effort, he bent down and lifted her into his arms. She was light—too light, like someone who carried too much pain inside.

“What a little troublemaker,” he whispered with a crooked smile as he gently laid her onto the bed.

For a moment, he just stood there, watching her. Her lashes were still damp, cheeks flushed, lips slightly parted as she slept. She looked so peaceful now—so breakable.

Almost without thinking, Dylan reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. His fingers lingered, then trailed softly along her cheek. Something stirred in him—warm and unfamiliar.

He found himself smiling.

But then he caught himself.

His expression shifted instantly, the softness in his eyes vanishing like mist. He straightened his posture, pulled away, and turned his attention to the contract on the nearby table.

He flipped it open.

Signed.

His smirk returned, colder this time. “Good girl,” he muttered under his breath.

Without another glance back at her, he walked to the door and stepped outside, closing it quietly behind him.

Somewhere far in the night, a long, low howl echoed through the mountains—haunting and strange. Dylan paused, his head tilting slightly as if listening. Then, with a knowing look in his eyes, he disappeared into the shadows.

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