The moonlight spilled gently across the chambers of the demon prince, coating the blackstone floors in a pale glow. The fire had long since died in the hearth, but the warmth remained—crackling not from flames, but from the girl curled on Kujo's lap, her cheek pressed to his stomach, her arms loosely draped around his waist.
Dimara had fallen asleep like a child—safe for once. Her breath was soft, rhythmic.
But her dreams were not.
In her mind, the world was blood and steel again.
She stood in a narrow chamber made of glass and rune-etched walls, tubes pulsing with green liquid surrounding her. Metal arms stabbed into her shoulders. Wires dug into her spine. Her mouth was forced open as black sludge poured in. Screams echoed through the lab—not hers, but from others like her. Other failures.
She had no name then. Just a designation: Subject 49-B.
They broke her. Then rebuilt her.
Over and over.
Her muscles would be replaced. Her heart carved out and reinserted with cursed cores. Sometimes she was starved for weeks, then fed the corpses of other failed chimeras. She tore flesh with her fangs, because that was the only way she could live. They told her she was just an animal. Just a beast. That she'd never feel love. That no one would ever want her.
"Trash like you only serves on a leash," they hissed into her ears. "If you're lucky."
Her dream body writhed in chains. Her skin tore. Her claws shattered against walls she couldn't escape.
Thirty years of torment in a world with no sky.
And then—warmth.
Dimara's eyes shot open, wide and wet, gasping like she'd just surfaced from deep water. She clutched her chest, her breathing ragged. The room was dark… but quiet. The air was clean. Her limbs weren't bound. She wasn't underground.
She was…
"Dimara?" Kujo's voice was gentle.
She looked up to see him staring down at her with concern, one hand already brushing her hair away from her damp forehead.
"You're shaking," he whispered.
"I-I… I saw them again," she whimpered. "The labs. The knives. The cages. The screaming—"
"Shh…" Kujo pulled her close, wrapping both arms around her as she cried into his chest. "You're not there anymore."
"I was there for thirty years," she choked out. "I don't even remember what my first voice sounded like… They tore me apart, Kujo. Over and over. I wasn't even a person."
He kissed the top of her head. "You're a person to me. More than any of them."
She looked up at him with glassy red-orange eyes. Her lips trembled, then she surged forward, pressing her mouth to his.
It wasn't a timid kiss. It was messy. Desperate. Her fingers tangled in his hair. Her whole body pressed against him like she wanted to melt into his skin and disappear from the world that had hurt her.
"Thank you," she gasped between kisses. "Thank you for saving me. For giving me a name. For not being afraid of me. I love you, Kujo. I really, really love you."
He tried to steady her, but she pushed him gently down onto his bed, straddling him, continuing to kiss him again and again—on his lips, on his jaw, his neck. Her voice was a broken whisper. "Please… just let me belong to you… all of me."
His hands caught her wrists.
She froze.
"Dimara…"
She blinked down at him.
He looked up at her, conflicted. "You're important to me. But I don't want to rush this. Not while you're still shaking."
Dimara lowered her head, a pained smile on her lips. "I get it. I just… I want to be with you. I know I'm trash. I know I'm a failure of a demon. But even if it's as a concubine… even if I'm just another girl in your life—please. Let me stay."
She lowered her forehead to his chest, her voice barely a whisper. "Please… marry me, Kujo. Or at least… let me love you."
His hands slowly let go of her wrists. He opened his mouth, but—
Click.
The door creaked open.
Fiore stood at the threshold, her posture straight, eyes cold.
Her gaze landed on Dimara straddling Kujo in bed.
Dimara froze.
Kujo sighed and sat up, gently moving the chimera girl off his lap.
"Did you knock?" he asked casually.
"I did. Twice. You didn't respond," Fiore replied coolly. Her arms were folded under her chest as usual, but there was a faint tightness in her eyes that didn't match her usual composed demeanor.
Dimara turned her head away, cheeks glowing.
Fiore cleared her throat. "You have a summons scheduled in three days."
Kujo raised a brow. "Another one?"
"Yes. A meeting with the Minotaur family's head. Your father will be present. I suspect he intends to make it a political bloodbath."
Dimara shrank back into the blankets, her eyes full of fear again.
Kujo rubbed his temples. "Wonderful. Another reminder that I'm the royal punching bag."
Fiore didn't smile. But her voice softened. "You won't be alone."
"I never am," he said, glancing between the two girls—one a blade, one a broken soul trying to heal.
Fiore hesitated. Just for a second. "Get some rest, sir."
She left the room and closed the door behind her.
Kujo stared at the ceiling for a moment before looking at Dimara.
"You really want to be my concubine?" he asked softly.
She nodded, face still buried in his sheets. "Only if you'll let me."
He brushed her bangs away gently. "I'm not ready to say yes. Not yet. But I'll never say no."
Her smile bloomed in the dark like a flower reaching for light.