“You’ve been sacrificed,” he said, his voice dipping low, almost reverent. “You are my bride, soon to be my wife. Your life is mine. You’ll die.”
She stared at him. And then…
Laughed.
Andras blinked. It wasn’t hysteria. It wasn’t madness.
It was scorn.
“Death?” she scoffed. “Please.” Her eyes narrowed like blades. “I’d rather kill them first… before I become your wife. Before I die.” She then leaned in, her smile daring.
“So… will you help me?”
***
A fanart of Don't Dare the Devil Chapter 2 by Xhu Lie! Thank you so much--this is beautiful!
A video of it is posted in TikTok and IG! Do give me a follow!
He grabbed the soap and worked it into his palms, about to scrub her down with a washcloth. But when he reached her shoulders, his hand halted.
Bruises. Deep ones along her arms, faint shadows on her thighs.
His jaws clenched. Her brows furrowed even in sleep, a soft grimace betraying discomfort.
Was I too rough?
He sighed, then reached for her hand. He couldn’t believe himself—caring for her like this. His palm glowed faintly with hellfire magic, warm, healing, pulsing against her skin. The bruises began to fade, vanishing slowly, tenderly.
***
A fanart of Don’t Dare the Devil chapter 11, by @chainslock_ thanks so much! 🤩 This is so beautiful. 😭
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