The transition from a prisoner to a bride began with the rustle of heavy silk.
In the dim, torch-lit chambers of the inner palace, the demon maids moved like shadows.
They draped Zaliyah in layers of blood-red wedding silk, the fabric so fine it felt like a second skin, embroidered with silver thread that seemed to squirm like living vines.
Zaliyah stood motionless, a porcelain doll in their hands. His once-vibrant purple eyes were now dull, glazed with a hollow despair that made him look like a ghost inhabiting a beautiful shell.
The maids were amazed and could not hide their awe. They combed his long, snowy hair until it shimmered like a frozen waterfall, replacing his simple gold earrings with heavy, teardrop rubies that pulled at his earlobes.
They didn't speak, the silence was broken only by the steady clicking of their claws against his hair. To them, he was a miracle to be dressed, but to Zaliyah, he was a lamb being decorated for the slaughter.
When they finally led him to the ceremonial chamber, the air grew thick with the scent of burning myrrh and iron.
Malachi was already there, leaning against a pillar of fireglass. He hadn't bothered with royal wedding robes , he wore his usual white blouse which was opened exposing his chiseled chest and a high waisted black trouser, a silent insult that screamed how little he regarded the sanctity of the union.
He only cared for the possession.
As Zaliyah walked down the aisle of stone, his mind retreated. He wasn't in the Demon Realm. He was back in the Ruo Han gardens, feeling the summer sun on his face, watching a younger Karas laugh as he chased a butterfly.
He held onto those memories like a lifeline.
When the high priest began the vows, Zaliyah didn't see the monster before him.
He blurred his vision until Malachi's silhouette became Karas's broad shoulders.
He whispered his "I do" to a ghost.
Then came the pain. The ritual wasn't a mere exchange of rings, it was a marking of souls.
Malachi stepped forward, his claws elongating. He grabbed Zaliyah's hand, the one with the silver scar, and bit into his own wrist. He pressed the bleeding wound against Zaliyah's palm while the sorcerers chanted a dissonant, bone-chilling melody.
A white-hot fire erupted in Zaliyah's veins. It felt as if melten lead was being poured into his bloodstream, claiming every nerve , every thought, every heartbeat for the king.
Zaliyah's head snapped back, a silent scream dying in his throat as the "Red Thread" of the demon bond snapped into place.
Blood began to drip from Zaliyah's nose and ears from the sheer spiritual pressure.
He felt like his bones were snapping from within , a surge of uncontrollable pain flowed through his body .
As Zaliyah squirm in pain the heavy doors creaked open, the air suddenly became freezing cold . A woman walked in, her presence so sharp it felt like a blade.
She was tall and curvy, her black hair cascading down her back like a river of ink. Her skin was as pale as the snow Zaliyah was named for, her high cheekbones and thin, arched brows giving her the look of a predatory bird.
"I heard you bought a white-haired pet," she said, her voice a silk-wrapped dagger. She walked directly to Zaliyah, her striking blue eyes scanning him with clinical disgust. She reached out, winding a lock of his blood-stained hair around her long, pale fingers.
"Not bought, exactly," Malachi snuffed, not moving from his spot.
"Don't be too humble, Malachi," she purred, her eyes never leaving Zaliyah.
"Ma...lachi?" Zaliyah gasped, the name slipping out in a daze of agony. It was the first time he heard it , it was the first time he had ever spoken it.
Malachi's eyes flared with a dark, hungry light. He liked the sound of his name on those trembling lips , it felt like total victory.
The woman let out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. "Oh dear. Your consort doesn't even know your name? Did you kidnap this child and force him to marry you?"
"Close enough," Malachi replied casually.
The Empress leaned in closer to Zaliyah, her scent of dead roses filling his senses. "How is he still alive? Ailla has become weaker than a lowly beast if she let this one slip through her fingers."
Uphior, standing in the shadows, bowed.
"Far from that, my queen.lady Ailla's indulgence is exactly what led to this marriage."
Zaliyah finally found his voice through the haze of pain. "Who... who is Ailla?"
"I believe your highness has crossed paths with Lady Ailla and her chamberlain," Uphior replied with a cryptic smile.
The realization hit Zaliyah, the woman who had hunted him, the one who had set this nightmare in motion. He looked at Malachi, the man who had sat back and watched his life burn.
"Since I crossed paths with you," Zaliyah spat, the blood from the ritual spraying across Malachi's cheek, "my life has been hell."
The chamber went deathly silent. The maids dropped to their knees, trembling. No one spat on the King. Malachi didn't roar. He didn't move. He slowly reached up, wiped the spit from his face with a finger, and licked it. A terrifying smirk pulled at his lips.
"Now, that's no way to act towards your husband, no?"
In a blur of motion, Malachi's hand connected with Zaliyah's face. The slap sent Zaliyah spinning, his body slamming into the cold stone wall with a sickening thud. Before he could fall, the Empress was over him, her long, sharpened nails trailing down his cheek, drawing thin lines of red.
"Uphior," the Empress mused, her voice low and terrifying. "Do you think the lowly beasts would be happy to eat the dismembered parts of the King's first consort?"
"Surely, my Queen," Uphior answered smoothly.
The Empress grabbed Zaliyah by his white hair, her grip iron-tight. She began to drag the blood-stained boy across the floor toward the exit.
Zaliyah was too weak from the ritual to fight back, his red silks trailing behind him like a smear of gore.
Uphior looked at the King, who was simply watching them leave. "Is Your Royal Majesty not going to say anything?"
Malachi turned his back, his eyes already cold and distant. "She won't kill him yet. He's too pretty to break so soon. Let us move to more important matters."
As Malachi and Uphior exited the other way, Zaliyah was dragged into the darkness of the Empress's wing, his last thought a desperate prayer to the frozen body of Karas, lying alone in a chamber of ice.