I wasn't entirely sure what etiquette was expected after you accidentally married a demon prince, but I was fairly certain it didn't involve fire.
And yet, there I was. Standing barefoot in the middle of his very expensive, obsidian-and-ruby-accented throne room, while a majestic velvet curtain went up in flames behind me. Again.
"STOP TOUCHING THINGS!" Lucien roared, wings flaring out as he descended from the ceiling like a very sexy but very, very irate bat.
I clutched the gold staff I'd found next to his throne like it was a perfectly innocent stick and not a cursed scepter that apparently summoned hellfire. "In my defense," I squeaked, "there were no signs that said *Do not touch*!"
"That's because NO ONE touches the Scepter of Infernos!"
"Well now *that's* just a design flaw," I muttered, as a nearby tapestry caught fire. "You can't leave something called *Scepter of Infernos* lying around and expect people not to poke it."
Lucien stalked toward me, his crimson eyes practically glowing with murderous intent. His hair, wild and silver, looked like it was about to turn to lightning. Or maybe that was just the rising tension in the room.
"Do you have any idea what you've just done?" he growled.
"Started a small, accidental, highly flammable rebellion?"
"You just triggered a centuries-old war relic that hasn't been touched since the Great Demon War of—ARGH, NEVERMIND." He waved his clawed hand dramatically, and the flames obediently fizzled out like embarrassed toddlers caught playing with matches.
I blinked. "You can put out hellfire just like that?"
"Of course I can! I'm the Prince of the Abyss!"
"Then why didn't you do that earlier?"
"Because I was watching to see how long it would take you to realize you'd ignited my throne room!"
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Nodded.
Fair.
---
Once the smoke cleared and a small demon janitor with a fire extinguisher tail waddled in to clean up the mess, Lucien pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, "I cannot believe this is my wife."
I crossed my arms. "Technically, I can't believe I'm your wife either. It was a sleepwalking accident. I thought I was heading to the fridge for a midnight snack, not walking into an infernal blood pact ceremony!"
He paused. "You sleepwalk toward snacks?"
"Yes. It's called nocturnal nutrition exploration. Look it up."
Lucien just sighed like a man who'd fought in a thousand wars and still wasn't ready for this particular emotional battle.
"You're exhausting."
"You're dramatic."
We both stared.
Then, slowly—very slowly—a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"...You interest me," he murmured.
"Is that demon-speak for *I want to strangle you*?"
"No. That's demon-speak for... I haven't been this entertained in centuries."
---
To my surprise, instead of banishing me to a lava pit or dissolving our unholy union, Lucien snapped his fingers and summoned a new throne out of the floor—right where the previous one had been incinerated.
"I suppose I'll need a new chair anyway," he muttered.
I eyed the fresh throne warily. "Please don't tell me *that* one bursts into flames when sat on."
"No. This one electrocutes you if you lie on it."
"Oh good. Much safer."
He chuckled. It was the first time I'd heard him laugh without malice, and to my horror, it made my stomach do something weird.
Was I… attracted to him?
No. Impossible. I had a strict *no shirtless men with wings and glowing eyes who ruled hell* policy.
…Right?
---
That evening, after being escorted to my new chambers—emphasis on plural, because apparently demon royalty got multiple rooms just to store capes—I flopped onto a bed that was at least half the size of my old apartment.
I buried my face in the velvet pillow.
What was I doing here?
One minute I was a regular twenty-s