The Devil's Betrothed
A love doomed from the start, a lost cause, a losing battle—and yet, neither hearts are willing to let go until the very end. ----- Arlan Cromwell, the epitome of the perfect Crown Prince. All he wants is to live a normal life of a human but the life of a dragon is anything but normal. He has but one goal—to find his runaway betrothed and behead her. What happens when he discovers that the woman who has snagged his heart is the one he vowed to kill? Oriana, a Black Witch, disguising herself as a man, has spent her entire life on the run without knowing what she is running away from. When the mysteries of her past slowly catch up to her, she has no one to turn to…except Arlan. But when she learns that the man she has given her heart to is the same man who wants to kill her, how can she accept the cruel card life dealt her? Two people with secrets to keep, identities to hide, and answers to find. When the certain darkness threatens to take Oriana away, will the Dragon be able to protect his mate? ----- Excerpt- “If I knew you were my betrothed, I would have killed you the very first moment we met." Arlan's gaze darkened with hatred. “If I knew I was betrothed to you, I would have killed myself before you even killed me!” Oriana mirrored the same emotions as him. He pulled out a dagger and offered it to her. “It’s not too late. Just slit your throat with this and you'll bleed out painlessly.” She accepted the knife, her fingers clutching its handle tightly. The next moment, he was pressed against the wall and the knife was on the right side of his neck. “How about I try it on you first, my betrothed?” “Feel free to try. But when you fail, this knife will first taste your grandpa's blood, then yours.” Anger rose in her eyes, and the next moment, blood was flowing through the right side of his neck. She cut deep enough to severe an important blood vessel. “You should not have challenged me,” she sneered and stepped back, waiting for him to collapse. He simply smirked and brushed his finger along the deep wound on his neck. “Seems like you failed.” She watched the wound on his neck heal on its own and felt shocked to her bones. “You.. what are you?” “Guess?” ----- Instagram- mynovel.20 Facebook- Author mynoveltwenty
One Condition
No matter what, crying over spilled milk was useless. She quickly controlled her expression and scoffed, "Fair maiden? Young Master, you insult me. This commoner might be younger, and thus, smaller compared to a handsome man like you, but I am a proper man!"
'Proper man?' Arlan almost burst into laughter. 'Does she take me for a fool? When I fell on her, I clearly felt—'
"Young Master, please spare my life!" Her voice cut through his thoughts. "I beg you to let go of me."
Arlan almost forgot he still had her pinned with a knife on her throat.
"What if you run?" he asked, not budging.
"Umm, Young Master, we can talk through this, can't we? This is the first time we have seen each other, and we have no deep grudges. Why will I run? Seems like you have mistaken me for someone else."
Arlan raised a brow, wanting to see what shenanigan she came up with. "Do you think so?"
Her lips trembled nervously but she maintained the subservient smile on her face. "Of course, or else, why would a respected noble like you follow a lowly being like me? You look like a distinguished young master of a noble family while I am a good-for-nothing son of humble birth who mingles in the slums."
'Son?'
A smirk on Arlan's lips widened at her blatant lie.
Getting no response from the man in front of her, the young woman squirmed. In the end, Arlan relented and took a step back, causing her to let out a sigh of relief.
Her eyes on the knife in his hand, she awkwardly rubbed her throat, a part of her reeling from having the blade against her skin.
From now on, she would act like a normal person!
Thinking about how proud nobles are, she put on a meek expression, imitating how servants would talk to their masters, her tone servile.
"This…I-I apologize for hurting you, Young Master. I mistakenly thought I was being followed by a thief who saw me selling herbs and wanted to steal the coins I earned."
"Me, a thief?"
"My bad for not thinking clearly before attacking you. It was a terrible mistake, but I believe that Young Master has a benevolent heart and will not hold me liable for such a silly misunderstanding. I am sure your time is precious, and I shall not waste it. I shall take my leave…"
'Not so fast, Shortie.'
Arlan would not let her slip away easily. He observed her pretty face. Since she wanted to pretend as a man, he would happily play along with her.
"I feel we are destined to meet like this, young man." He put a friendly arm over her shoulder, causing her to stiffen. He pretended not to notice her discomfort. "The more I look at you, the more you remind me of my younger brother. Alas, I miss him badly! Since you are done selling your herbs, how about you spend some time with me?"
"T-Time with you?" she said nervously, her eyes shaking. "Young Master, this lowly commoner dare not!"
Her mind was screaming, 'There is no way I will spend time with a brat like you!'
As if reading her thoughts, Arlan chuckled inwardly. He tightened his arm around her shoulder, acting like they were a pair of old brothers who had not seen each other for years.
"To mark our new brotherhood, how about a drink in a tavern, young man?"
Cold sweat appeared at the back of her neck. "D-Drink? I don't drink…"
He raised a questioning brow as he turned his face to look at her. "What kind of man doesn't drink?"
She gulped, her panic rising.
'The longer I stay by his side, the higher the chance he recognizes it was me who stabbed him yesterday. What if he cuts off my limbs? Worse, what if he sends me to prison after cutting off my limbs? I cannot afford to get caught.'
"I-I…mean, I do not drink during the day," she smoothly lied. "As a mere herb collector, it is hard to make ends meet. Every second of labor counts to feed my family. It is not wise to waste myself with drinks."
"One drink won't make you go wasted. Besides, I will pay for our drinks."
"C-Can we keep it for some other day? Today, I really have an important business to attend to. I still need to sell more herbs."
Arlan thought for a moment and finally decided to let her go but… "On one condition."
She sighed in relief, but did not lower her guard. "What condition?"
"I will follow you to see how you do your business."
Air was stuck in her throat. A sense of incredulity sprung up, but she could not show it on her face.
"A noble brat—I mean, young master like you, it does not suit a person of your status to wander in the marketplace and—"
"Even nobility needs to know how things work in the market. For our businesses to flourish, understanding the needs of our customers is a must. You seem like a smart and reliable young man. I look forward to learning from you, brother."
"B-But…"
Arlan narrowed his eyes on her. "How about I hire you as my guide? Don't you have to feed your family? You will not refuse additional income, right? Or do you wish me to alert the city guards about you attacking a noble in broad daylight?"
Playing with the knife in his hand, Arlan let out a deliberate sigh.
"I am truly unlucky. I am yet to find the attacker who stabbed me yesterday, and yet today someone held a knife against my neck," Arlan said, before pursing his lips as if in thought. "That reminds me, this knife looks familiar…"
She immediately grabbed that knife. "Young Master, this is a common knife used by herb collectors."
As she safely tucked the knife back in her belt, she offered him what she believed was a manly smile, but to Arlan, it looked like a naughty smile of a young lady.
"Let this guide show you how he does business."