The World of A Marriage Life

The marble floor of the Blackblood Syndicate’s grand hall was freezing, but it was the metallic scent of fresh blood in the air that made me violently shiver.

I was twenty-four years old, a normal human girl who worked at a bakery in the mundane district of the city.

I had never known the monsters that lurked in the shadows of the billionaire skyscrapers until tonight.

Now, I was on my knees, my wrists bound with thick zip-ties, watching my father weep in front of the Blackblood syndicate’s enforcers.

He had embezzled from the wrong shell company. He had stolen from the Blackblood empire.

“Please,” my father sobbed, his forehead pressed against the cold marble. “I’ll pay it back. I swear it on my life!”

The towering guards flanking us didn't even flinch.

They were waiting for him.

The heavy, soundproof oak doors at the end of the hall groaned open, and all the oxygen was instantly sucked out of the room.

A suffocating, terrifying aura crashed down on my shoulders, so heavy it physically forced my head to bow.

Alpha King Dragon Blackblood stepped into the light.

He was a nightmare carved out of muscle and bespoke Italian tailoring. Standing well over six-and-a-half feet tall, he moved with the lethal, unhurried grace of an apex predator.

His face was ruggedly handsome, marked by a harsh jawline and dark, slightly greying hair, but it was his eyes that froze the blood in my veins.

They were a violent, swirling amber, practically glowing with an unstable, feral madness.

Rumors whispered that the Alpha King had lost his mind twenty-eight years ago when his Queen died after gave birth to his triplets.

They said he brought women to his estate and broke them just to quiet the beast inside his head.

“You stole three million dollars, Moretti,” Dragon’s voice rumbled. It wasn't a shout. It was a low, guttural vibration that rattled my ribs. “You offer me your life. But your life is worthless.”

He stepped closer, the sharp click of his dress shoes echoing in the cavernous hall.

He didn't even look at my father.

He drew a massive silver hunting knife from his coat.

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears streaming down my face, bracing for the spray of my father's blood.

But the strike never came.

Instead, a deafening, absolute silence fell over the room.

I slowly opened my terrified eyes.

King Dragon was frozen.

He was standing mere inches from me, his towering frame completely rigid.

The violent, feral madness in his amber eyes was suddenly gone, replaced by a devastating, earth-shattering shock.

The silver knife slipped from his massive hand, clattering loudly against the marble.

“Luna,” a ragged, desperate sound tore from his throat.

His massive hand reached out, his fingers trembling—actually trembling—as he cupped my jaw.

His skin was burning hot.

The moment he touched me, a heavy, intoxicating scent of sandalwood and dark earth washed over me, making my head spin.

I flinched away, terrified.

“D-Don't touch me!” I sobbed, shrinking back.

The guards behind him drew their weapons, ready to execute me for disrespecting the King.

But Dragon raised a single hand, stopping them instantly.

His eyes never left my face.

He looked at me as if I were a ghost, as if I were the only source of water in a burning desert.

“Your daughter,” King Dragon growled, his voice suddenly thick with a dark, obsessive possessiveness that made my stomach drop. “How old is she?”

“T-Twenty-four, my King,” my father stammered, confused.

Dragon’s amber eyes flared with a terrifying, primal heat. “The debt is three million. You cannot pay it. Therefore, I invoke the ancient law of the Blood-Debt.”

My heart stopped.

The Blood-Debt.

It was an archaic, unbreakable law. It meant forfeiture of property.

It meant absolute ownership.

“No,” I whispered, panic clawing at my throat. “No, please!”

“She is the collateral,” Dragon declared, his voice booming with finality.

He reached down, effortlessly snapping the thick zip-ties binding my wrists with his bare hands.

Before I could even scream, his massive arms wrapped around me, hoisting me against his broad chest as if I weighed nothing. “She belongs to the Blackblood estate now. If anyone touches her, I will slaughter their entire bloodline.”

“Agatha!” my father cried out, but the guards were already dragging him away.

I thrashed against the King's iron grip, beating my fists against his chest. “Let me go! You're a monster! Let me go!”

Dragon didn't even blink at my futile strikes.

He buried his face into the crook of my neck, inhaling my scent so deeply his massive chest expanded.

A low, terrifying rumble vibrated from his throat, a purr of absolute, mad obsession.

“You're home,” he whispered against my skin, his fangs grazing my pulse point. “I am never letting you go again.”