CLAIMED BY A DEMON: book 1. faes and demon series'.

‎Elaren was a village the world seemed to forget, hidden where the forest thinned and sunlight barely touched the stone paths. Lanterns glowed like tiny stars at dusk, and whispers of old magic lingered in the air. Here, even the smallest acts—a soft word to a wounded animal, a gentle touch on a broken branch—could bend the world ever so slightly. Liriel Thornevale, quiet and unnoticed, knew this better than anyone. And tonight, she felt the weight of something coming, something that would change everything. ‎ ‎She walked with her basket through the village, ears picking up every whispered conversation. Fear had begun to creep into every corner. ‎ ‎“—the border burned,” one voice said. ‎ ‎“—demons,” another replied, voice trembling. ‎ ‎Liriel kept moving. People always looked at her with pity or doubt. Least daughter. Quiet princess. Invisible to most. But she had learned that being unnoticed could be her shield. ‎ ‎At the well, Old Aerin struggled with the rope. Liriel hurried to help him draw the water. When she met his gaze, he calmed and gave her a small smile. ‎ ‎“Thank you, child,” he said. “You have a calming way.” ‎ ‎She nodded and continued on, feeling the familiar tug of unease in her chest. ‎ ‎Beyond the village homes, the ashleaf tree stood twisted and tired, its bark cracked and sap oozing. Liriel knelt and pressed her hand to it. She did not call fire or light. She listened. And the tree seemed to sigh, settling as if relieved. ‎ ‎The village was restless that evening. A royal summons arrived, marked with the King’s seal. Liriel’s stomach tightened. She was to return to the capital immediately. ‎ ‎The palace loomed ahead, grand and imposing. Servants guided her through endless corridors that smelled of incense and polished stone. Her sisters moved with confidence, faint glimmers of magic surrounding them. She followed quietly, unnoticed and silent. ‎ ‎The throne room was filled with tension and the scent of burning incense. Advisors crowded close, whispering. As Liriel approached, everyone fell silent. ‎ ‎“Father,” she said, bowing. ‎ ‎His gaze softened for a moment before becoming firm again. ‎ ‎“The demons have made terms,” he said. “Peace for the fae kingdom comes at a price.” ‎ ‎Her sisters straightened, their expressions a mix of curiosity and anxiety. ‎ ‎“A royal bride,” an advisor said. “A binding older than the realms.” ‎ ‎The King looked directly at Liriel. “Step forward,” he commanded. ‎ ‎Her hands trembled slightly as she obeyed. ‎ ‎“You will be the bride,” he said, his voice heavy. ‎ ‎The room went silent. Her sisters gasped. An advisor murmured in protest. Liriel’s heart pounded, and a flicker of defiance stirred inside her. ‎ ‎“Why me?” she asked softly, trying to hold her ground. ‎ ‎Her father’s eyes were full of worry. “Because you are the one they requested,” he said. ‎ ‎“I don’t want this,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I won’t—” ‎ ‎“You do not have a choice,” he said gently but firmly. “The kingdom needs this peace.” ‎ ‎Liriel’s shoulders slumped, but a small spark of defiance remained. Her life was no longer her own, and yet she resolved that she would not go quietly. The demon she was to marry was still unknown to her, but she knew that when the day came, she would face him with all the courage she could muster. ‎ ‎That night, lying in her chamber, she stared at the ceiling. The palace buzzed with preparations and whispers, but Liriel felt isolated and alone. Her fate was decided, but she held onto a quiet determination: she would meet the demon not as a frightened girl, but as a princess who would not yield easily. ‎