A Lesson in Submission (That Backfires Badly)
1015 Words
Hanging from glowing red chains like a gothic chandelier was not on my vision board.
My arms burned, my wrists ached, and my dignity? Somewhere on the floor next to my last nerve.
The Demon Prince—tall, smug, dangerous—stood in front of me like he hadn’t just kidnapped me, chained me up, and threatened to break me like a damn wild horse.
He looked… amused.
“You’ll need to adjust your attitude, little flame,” he said.
“Stop calling me that,” I snapped.
He raised an eyebrow. “Why? It suits you. You burn hot, reckless. Untamed.”
I rolled my eyes. “You sound like a dark fantasy cliché with a superiority complex.”
He didn’t respond—just stepped closer, hand raised. I flinched. Instinct.
His hand paused mid-air.
“I’m not going to hit you,” he said, almost insulted. “I’m not a brute.”
I snorted. “You chained me to a ceiling, but you wanna be seen as gentle?”
The air shimmered around us. My skin tingled. The chains suddenly released, and I dropped onto the bed with a grunt, still tangled in sheets and attitude.
He didn’t speak. Just watched.
I stood slowly, adjusting the sheet around my chest like armor.
“What now?” I asked. “You gonna force-feed me lava and call it breakfast?”
He smirked. “You’re not ready for the cuisine. Or the politics.”
“Politics?”
“Demon royalty is more complex than you’d understand.”
“Try me.”
He stared at me for a long, silent moment.
“I am the firstborn of House Ashkar,” he said. “One of the Seven. My claim to the throne was challenged the moment I refused to marry within the bloodline. So I invoked the Law of Flame—choosing a mortal bride through contract.”
He moved closer.
“You.”
I blinked. “That scroll… that wasn’t random?”
He shook his head once. “I chose you.”
I laughed. “You mean you targeted me.”
He didn’t deny it.
“Why me?” I asked, suddenly quiet. “Why a broke human with trauma and no filter?”
His eyes burned into mine. “Because the fire in you calls to mine. Because you carry power no mortal should. And because you’re the only soul ever prophesied to either destroy… or redeem me.”
Oh.
Oh, we’re doing prophecies now?
Great.
Just f*cking great.
“You picked the wrong b***h,” I muttered, pacing the edge of the bed. “I’m not some chosen one. I can barely pay my phone bill.”
“You’re more than what you’ve been forced to be,” he said. “But if you’d rather die, I can arrange that.”
“Tempting,” I said. “But I think I’ll live long enough to ruin your life first.”
He laughed again.
God, that laugh—it was unfair. Dark velvet and sharp steel.
“You truly don’t fear me.”
I shrugged. “I’ve met worse. My landlord, for one.”
That caught him off guard. He blinked, then—against his will—his mouth twitched.
“Very well,” he said. “Let’s test your strength.”
A flash of light. A new space.
I blinked—and we were suddenly in what looked like a sparring arena. Black sand. Bloodstains. Blades hanging from obsidian walls.
A demon training ground.
“This is how I teach obedience,” he said, walking toward a massive iron door. “Let’s see how long you last.”
The door opened with a heavy groan.
Out stepped a beast.
Seven feet tall, armored in bone. Four arms, six glowing eyes, and teeth longer than my fingers.
I stared at it.
Then at him.
“You serious?”
He smiled. “Survive ten minutes, and I’ll let you roam the palace. Fail—and you return to your cage.”
“You sick bastard,” I muttered.
“I’ve been called worse.”
The beast roared.
And I ran.
For exactly five seconds.
Then I turned and did the only thing I knew how to do—fight dirty.
I grabbed a dagger from the wall, rolled under its swing, and stabbed upward. It roared again—more pissed than hurt.
Shit.
I ducked, kicked off the wall, landed on its back. Slashed at its neck. It flailed, but I held tight, stabbing over and over until black ooze sprayed across the floor.
I jumped off, breathing hard. The beast stumbled.
Then collapsed.
Silence.
The Prince walked forward slowly, eyes locked on me.
“You improvised,” he said.
“I survived,” I corrected, dropping the dagger.
He stepped into the bloodied sand.
And bowed his head—actually bowed.
“You’ve earned your place,” he said.
I scoffed. “No thanks to you, demon daddy.”
His head snapped up.
“What did you call me?”
“Demon. Daddy. Want me to spell it out?”
He growled, low and dangerous—but there was heat in his gaze now.
Challenge.
Curiosity.
Craving.
And something else—something buried. Sadness? Regret?
But before I could read it fully, he vanished.
Just gone.
Like smoke in the wind.
⸻
Later that night, I’m led to a room of my own. It’s… shockingly nice. Dark wood, glowing lamps, velvet everywhere. A window that looks out over a red sky and a bleeding moon.
I sit on the bed and finally let myself feel it all.
I’m not on Earth.
I’m a demon’s bride.
And worst of all…
Some twisted part of me is starting to feel again. Purpose. Fire. Something raw waking up in my chest.
I don’t want to like him.
I don’t trust him.
But there’s something about the way he looks at me—like he’s waiting for me to become something only I can become.
I hate it.
I love it.
And I am not going down easy.
- Writer
