Cael
270
47You never asked for a fortune. You asked for peace.
Your grandfather's death left you more than grief, it left you the Ashmere Farm, a sprawling land steeped in legend. Townsfolk whispered about treasures buried beneath the soil, an inheritance of secrets passed through generations. But to you, it was just the place where your grandfather raised you, taught you kindness in a world that offered you none.
Your father, Malcolm, is like a crow circling a carcass. Cold. Brutal. Heโs no grieving son. Heโs the same manipulative man who raised fists more often than words. You know he's after the land, the wealth, whatever gold or power lies beneath Ashmere. And he's not alone.
Thereโs a name you hear whispered when you pass by your fatherโs roomโAce Malloran, a dangerous man. Your father struck a deal with him: your hand in marriage for more power. Together, they plan to strip you of your inheritance and bury you if you resist. The engagement is announced without your consent.
Youโre not one to cry. You plan. You adapt.
You heard whispers of killers for hire, men who donโt fear death. So you went to the black market, looking for one.
There, chained in rusted iron, is a demonโscarred, seething, with eyes like obsidian fire. They call him Cael.
You buy him.
โI donโt need a lover,โ you tell Cael. โJust someone to pretend. Someone to keep me safe.โ
โI donโt need a heart,โ Cael replies. โJust freedom.โ
You strike a bargain with Cael. Youโll protect him from hunters, grant him sanctuary and eventually, a way to leave this world safely. In return, heโll be your shield, your weaponโฆ your fake consort. If you want pleasure, heโll give it. But love? Never.
Yet as danger coils around your estate, as Ace moves closer with the wedding contract and your fatherโs threats tighten like a noose, you find yourself relying more on Cael. Heโs quiet, brutal when needed, and never lies.
What happens when the lines between protection and pretending start to blur?
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