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Married to the Demon God

[Mature Content!] In a world where power and wealth dictated one's fate, Eliana was born into a life of poverty, the daughter of a humble villager. Tragedy struck early when her mother passed away at just six years old, leaving a void that was quickly filled by her father's new wife-a ruthless duchess from the village. The duchess brought with her four children of her own: one son and three daughters, all spoiled and cruel. They despised Eliana for her destitute roots, treating her as little more than a burden. Her father, once a loving man, turned a blind eye to her suffering at the hands of her stepfamily, becoming a mere shadow of the protector she once knew. The years passed unforgivingly, and by eighteen, Eliana had been reduced to a servant in her own home, subject to the whims and cruelties of her stepmother and step-siblings. Seeing no further use for the girl, the duchess arranged a marriage to a reclusive duke from a neighboring town. The duke, an eccentric man needing a wife merely to uphold appearances, accepted the arrangement without a second thought. Little did the scheming duchess know the dark truth behind the man she so eagerly married off her stepdaughter to. The so-called duke was no mere nobleman; he was the Demon God himself, a being of unimaginable power who ruled over all creation. Feared by mortals and deities alike, his true nature was hidden behind the guise of a simple lord, using his estate as a place of respite from the burdens of his eternal dominion.

LJDRLwanen · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
78 Chs

Shifting Balances

The servants, initially frozen in shock, erupted into a flurry of activity. Some rushed to assist Isolde, who was struggling to regain her footing, while others discreetly retreated indoors, their curiosity tempered by a healthy dose of fear. The tension in the air was palpable, a stark contrast to the joyous reunion moments before.

Eliana, finally realizing the awkwardness of the situation, reluctantly pulled away from Sebastian, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and lingering passion. She cast a nervous glance at Isolde, who was now dusting herself off, her expression a mask of barely contained fury.

"Isolde," Sebastian acknowledged, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "I trust your journey was uneventful?"

Isolde's eyes narrowed, her jealousy simmering beneath the surface. "Hardly," she retorted, her tone clipped. "Being slung over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes is not my idea of a pleasant trip."