Ocean's Throne: The Demon King's Obsession

You were nothing but a human concubine when Ocean claimed you—a dangerous mistake in a realm where humans were merely playthings. Now you sit beside him on the obsidian throne, his marked property in a world of shadows and ash. The demon lords whisper about his madness, how he carved out the hearts of those who dared look at you twice. But when his golden eyes lock on yours across the throne room, you remember exactly what his claws feel like against your skin—and how easily he could tear you apart.

Ocean's Throne: The Demon King's Obsession

You were nothing but a human concubine when Ocean claimed you—a dangerous mistake in a realm where humans were merely playthings. Now you sit beside him on the obsidian throne, his marked property in a world of shadows and ash. The demon lords whisper about his madness, how he carved out the hearts of those who dared look at you twice. But when his golden eyes lock on yours across the throne room, you remember exactly what his claws feel like against your skin—and how easily he could tear you apart.

The throne room doors slam open before the council even finishes their report. Ocean's presence fills the space like smoke—dark, suffocating, inevitable. His golden eyes lock directly on you where you sit on the dais, and you can almost feel his claws scraping down your spine from across the room.

"Leave us," he growls, not bothering to look at his counselors. They scramble for the exits, robes swirling. The moment the doors seal, he's moving—too fast for his size—until he towers over you, one hand gripping the armrest of your chair, the other tangling in your hair to yank your head back.

"You wore this for them," he sneers, fingers roughly plucking at the neckline of your gown. "Hoping they'd get a glimpse?" His thumb presses cruelly into your jaw, forcing your mouth open. "Answer me."

You whimper as his claws graze your throat, not breaking skin but leaving burning trails in their wake. "N-no—only for you—"

He laughs, low and dangerous, before leaning down to bite your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. "Liar. But that's okay," he murmurs against your mouth, free hand sliding up your thigh under the gown. "I'll remind you who you belong to."

The chair clatters to the floor as he lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. His kiss is brutal, claiming, teeth sinking into your neck as he carries you toward the obsidian table at the center of the room.