Clara counted the seconds after the door closed.
One.
Two.
Three.
Nothing followed.
No guards. No chains. No priest chanting a binding spell.
That alone told her how dangerous Ryshian was.
The room was carved from obsidian stone, its walls etched with infernal laws older than kingdoms.
Candles burned without smoke. The air smelled faintly of iron and ash
cleaner than the execution halls.
This is where he sleeps...
she thought.
The Devil King's heir....The butcher's son...!
The ring on her finger pulsed, slow and alive, as if pleased with where it had brought her.
An hour ago, hell had roared in celebration as it sealed her fate.
The engagement had happened too fast applause, fire, vows spoken in a language meant to bind souls instead of mouths.
She pressed her thumb into the ring until pain bloomed.
I'm inside, she reminded herself.
This is what you wanted....
Her family's faces rose uninvited
burned wings, broken halos, blood on white stone.
She swallowed hard and forced them down.
Not now...
She moved to the window. Hell stretched endlessly below
black towers, slow rivers of flame, the abyss breathing like a patient beast.
I will kill them all...
she thought.
Starting with the king.
The door opened.
Clara didn't turn.
The air shifted
pressure sliding over her skin, heavy and sharp.
Every instinct she had screamed predator.
"You're standing in the wrong place," Ryshian said behind her.
"Is there a right one?" she asked.
The door shut.
Locked.
She turned.
Ryshian stood several steps inside the room, sleeves rolled back, hands empty.
His expression was carved, controlled, eyes cold and assessing.
Not anger.
Not curiosity.
Calculation.
"You didn't even wait," he said. "Most pretend longer."
"I don't see the point," Clara replied.
"That's obvious."
She smiled faintly...
"You didn't expose me."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because.." he said evenly "I don't like sharing corpses."
Her smile widened
"Good. I don't like being watched."
He moved..
Fast enough that her body reacted before her mind did.
Steel flashed.
Her dagger slid into her palm as she twisted aside, blade slashing upward.
Ryshian caught her wrist mid-strike and slammed her into the wall.
Stone cracked.
Pain exploded through her shoulder.
She laughed and drove her knee into his ribs.
They separated violently.
"You're sloppy," he said.
"You're arrogant," she shot back.
They lunged at the same time.
She aimed for his heart.
He went for her throat.
They both meant it.
The ring ignited.
White-hot agony tore through Clara's arm, ripping a scream from her chest as glowing symbols burned into her skin.
Her dagger fell uselessly to the floor.
Ryshian staggered back with a curse, clutching his wrist as the same infernal markings flared over him.
They froze.
Breathing hard.
Staring.
"So," Clara rasped, "the stories were true."
Ryshian's jaw tightened. "Engagement clause."
"Mutual protection," she said. "Triggered by lethal intent."
"Which you had," he snapped.
"Which you had too."
Silence slammed down between them.
"You waited," Clara said slowly.
"Yes."
"So you could kill me alone."
"Yes."
She nodded. "Same."
That finally cracked something in his expression...not humor. Recognition.
"You're not a devil..." he said.
"So..You're not stupid enough."
"Angels don't survive Hell..." Ryshian said.
"I already survived your father julian" she replied.
The temperature in the room dropped.
"Say his name again" Ryshian warned.
"Julian"
Clara said clearly.
"The king who slaughtered my family."
His eyes hardened, sharp as broken glass.
"You came here to die."
"No," she corrected.
"I came here to end him."
A beat.
Then Ryshian laughed
low, cruel, utterly unamused.
"You picked the worst possible path."
"I picked the only one that gets me close," she said.
The ring pulsed, restless.
"If the clause didn't exist," he said quietly, "you'd already be dead."
"If it didn't," she replied just as quietly, "so would you."
Their gazes locked.
Ryshian turned away first.
"You stay alive because the ring says so," he said.
"Not because I want you to."
She flexed her burned hand.
"I don't need your permission."
He paused at the door.
"Try to move against my father without thinking," he said, "and I'll end you. Clause or not."
"And Ryshian," she added.
He didn't turn.
"You should've killed me before the ring," she said softly. "Now you're stuck with me."
Ryshian's hand was already on the door when Clara spoke.
"Wait."
The word came out steadier than she felt.
He didn't turn yet. "I'm not in the mood for last words."
"I need a mark."
That made him look.
Slowly. ..Like a blade being drawn.
"A what?"
"A hickey " she said plainly. "Something visible.. aahm ..Something ugly enough that everyone shuts up."
His eyes flicked..brief, instinctive to her throat.
Then back to her face.
"You're insane."
"Probably," she said..
"But I'm also your fiancee. And Hell loves proof."
Silence stretched.
"You want to parade my claim?" he asked coldly.
"I want to stay alive," Clara shot back.
"Devil nobles don't believe vows. They believe teeth."
"You think this is protection?" he said. "You'll paint a target on your neck."
"I already am one," she said. "At least make them hesitate."
He laughed once, sharp and humorless. "You really don't understand what you're asking."
"I understand exactly," she replied.
"They'll see your mark and assume I belong to you. No one touches what the heir has already bitten."
"That includes me," he said quietly.
Her jaw tightened "We're already bound. This just makes it visible."
He stepped closer.
The air thickened again that same dangerous pressure, heavier now.
He loomed, close enough that she could feel the heat of him, smell the faint smoke clinging to his skin.
"You're playing with something you can't control," he warned.
"So are you.." she said, lifting her chin. "Unless you're scared."
His mouth curved not a smile...A promise.
"Say it again," he murmured.
"Mark me.." Clara said.
His hand came up, fingers gripping her jaw, not rough precise.
For a split second she thought he'd stop, that this was another test.
Then his mouth crashed into hers.
It wasn't gentle.
It wasn't careful.
It was fury colliding with defiance.
She gasped and he took advantage of it, deepening the kiss like it offended him that she could breathe.
Clara's hands fisted in his coat without permission, nails digging in as something hot and reckless surged through her veins.
No..!!!
she told herself.
This is just a mark...!
But his grip tightened, thumb pressing under her ear, tilting her head exactly where he wanted it.
His mouth slid from hers to her throat, teeth grazing skin and the ring burned.
Both of them froze.
Too late.
Something had already snapped.
The kiss deepened, turned hungry, dangerous like they were trying to prove something to the other and failing spectacularly.
Hell itself seemed to hold its breath.
Then Ryshian pulled back violently, as if burned.
He stepped away, breathing hard.
"Enough."
Clara swayed, pulse roaring in her ears.
Her throat tingled warm, sore and
marked...
She touched it with trembling fingers and laughed breathlessly.
"Well. ..That escalated."
"Don't joke," he snapped.
"That wasn't part of the deal."
"No," she admitted, eyes still dark. "It wasn't."
His gaze dropped again to her neck this time and lingered a fraction too long.
"You don't get to use that against me," he said.
"I won't," she replied. "But everyone else will see it."
He turned away sharply, opening the door.
"This changes nothing," he said.
"Of course not," Clara said lightly. "We still want each other dead."
He paused.
"Try that again," he said without looking back "and I won't stop next time."
The door closed behind him.
Clara sank onto the edge of the bed, fingers still pressed to the mark on her throat.
It pulsed faintly alive, infernal.
She exhaled slowly.
"oh! Heaven " she muttered. "i..m....here only for revenge."
Her lips still burned...
"I'm not dead yet and game is on"