LOGINThree years of contract marriage, and Silas has been the picture of icy restraint — buttoning his shirts all the way to the top. Knowing he doesn't love me, I decide to stop lying to myself. But just as I'm about to flee with the divorce papers, I stumble upon a forum called Mischief & Mayhem. The pinned post screams in red letters: "URGENT! I'm actually an incubus. I've spent three years pretending to be cold and celibate so I won't scare my wife. But she just asked for a divorce and I can't hide it anymore... HELP: How do I win her back in 30 days without revealing what I am?" In the attached photo, a black heart-tipped tail is shamefully coiled around a suit trouser leg, its tip hooked around a tie. That tie — I bolt upright in bed. That's the limited-edition tie I gave Silas. My iceberg husband is secretly a lovesick male incubus?
View MoreMorning. Cold white light sliced through the curtain gap and fell across the bed.Every muscle in my body ached like I'd been run over by a truck. Twice.The man who'd cried and begged me not to leave just hours ago was now facing away from me, elegantly buttoning his shirt.Silas had changed into a crisp black shirt, fingers deftly fastening the last button.His expression had returned to its usual frost — as if the man who'd panted against my neck and clawed at the sheets with red-rimmed eyes had been a hallucination."Awake?"He turned, gaze cool and detached. "Last night was an anomaly. In twenty-nine days, I'll honor our agreement and finalize the divorce.""The house is yours. I'll move out immediately."His tone was clean, efficient — like he was settling a routine asset allocation.So that was his game. Sleep with me, then pretend nothing happened.Not only denying everything he'd confessed, but picking up the ice-king act right where he'd left off?I laughed — the kind of laug
Deep into the night. The air still carried traces of humidity.The vicious wound on Silas's chest had healed, leaving only a thin line of fresh pink skin.He lay on his side next to me, crimson still lingering in his pupils, wearing an absurdly incongruent expression — the sated contentment of a puppy.I looked at him, and the curiosity I'd been suppressing for hours finally clawed its way out.I poked his solid chest, softened my voice:"Silas, wake up. Look at me. Tell me — who are you?"He blinked slowly. His voice was sandpaper-rough, sluggish with satiation."...Silas."I waved three fingers in front of his face, fighting back a grin. "How many is this?"He stared at my fingertips, struggling to focus.As if afraid I'd vanish, he seized my wrist and buried his face in my palm, mumbling:"Three... don't go."Confirmed: he was still in a post-euphoric daze. Time for the real questions.I laced my fingers through his and asked softly:"Then tell me. Why did you marry me? Was it reall
The gala ended. On the ride home, we sat in silence.Neon lights streaked past the car window. Silas sat in the shadows like a sleeping statue.I thought about that obnoxious ruby brooch and felt a prickle of unease.As the car turned into an alley, I asked the driver to stop — I wanted to pop into a shop I frequented.But the moment I stepped out and took a few steps, a flash of cold steel lunged from the darkness.Several armed figures rushed straight at my chest. My mind went blank."GET DOWN!"A snarl tore through the air.A massive force wrenched me into an embrace.I heard fabric ripping. I looked up in shock — from Silas's back, a pair of enormous, pitch-black bone wings had unfurled.The pressure rolling off him turned savage in an instant. His silver-gray eyes blazed crimson.A single backhand sweep sent the attackers flying like snapped kites, crashing into the walls.The presence of a high-order demon — cold, brutal, and absolute.But the moment it was over, the wings dissol
His warm breath gusted past my ear again, and I let out a helpless whimper, my whole body going soft."Iris, the camera situation has been handled remotely.""...Got it."Watching him slip back into that familiar, detached composure, I wanted to ask him to explain the kiss. But in the end, the words died on my tongue.I retreated to my own room and collapsed on the bed.The moonlight outside was pale and cold. But I could almost see, in the room next door, a black heart-tipped tail thrashing wildly in the dark.My phone was buzzing again, but I had no energy left to check. Probably another victory lap from Silas's forum alter-ego.As for why we'd ended up in separate beds again — he'd likely been on the verge of "exposure" and couldn't take the risk.Thinking this, I slowly closed my eyes.That night, I slept terribly.My dreams were a kaleidoscope of overlapping shadows — one moment Silas was ice-cold at the negotiating table, slashing prices without mercy. The next, he was hunched be
"Not here — Silas — we already signed—"My protest was swallowed whole by a sudden, overwhelming kiss. His lips crashed down, hard and searing, stealing every last breath.His tongue pried my teeth apart with ruthless precision, teasing and chasing and sucking until I could only make broken, muffled
I locked the door, heart hammering hard enough to crack ribs.No time to calm down. I dove under the covers and pulled up my phone.On Mischief & Mayhem, the post had gone nuclear.OP had updated with a photo that reeked of despair.That priceless tie had been brutally knotted into a massive lump, c
I opened the door. The living room was dim.Silas hadn't gone to his study. Instead, he was sitting on the sofa — an unprecedented move — facing my bedroom door.The man who normally buttoned his shirts all the way to the throat now had his silk collar hanging wide open.Pale skin flickered in and o
"Divorce papers. Sign here."Three years of contract marriage, and I'd spent every one of them lusting after Silas's body, manufacturing every excuse to get close.But he always pushed me away — cold, composed, without so much as a finger brushing mine.Finally, I couldn't take the loneliness anymor












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