How I Married KING Of HELL

The Queen's Chains

Chapter 3

The black silk sheets were impossibly soft against Emily's skin, but sleep didn't come. She tossed and turned, her mind tangled in a thousand questions. Lucien's words from earlier echoed in her head: You're mine. She wasn't sure what unsettled her more—the terrifying truth behind those words or the strange pull she felt toward him.

Sitting up in bed, Emily glanced around the room. The flickering torchlight cast shadows that seemed to dance across the walls, giving life to the serpents carved into the black stone. A shiver ran down her spine as she realized she wasn't just trapped in a physical sense—she was bound to Lucien in ways she didn't yet understand.

What have I done? she thought.

The heavy door creaked open, interrupting her thoughts. Emily's heart leapt, expecting to see Lucien, but instead, a tall woman dressed in dark robes entered. Her eyes were a striking shade of gold, her expression cool and unreadable.

"The King has sent me to prepare you," she said, her voice smooth but distant.

"Prepare me for what?" Emily asked, wariness creeping into her tone.

"The Queen's coronation," the woman replied simply, as if this were a normal part of the day.

Emily's heart pounded. Coronation? She had barely been here a day, and now she was to be crowned Queen of Hell? Everything was moving too fast. But what did she expect? She had agreed to this—hadn't she?

The woman, unfazed by Emily's confusion, gestured to a set of black and gold garments laid out on a nearby table. "You will wear this for the ceremony. The King is expecting you shortly."

Emily felt the weight of the woman's gaze, but she couldn't focus on anything beyond the enormity of the situation. "I didn't... I didn't think it would happen so soon."

The woman tilted her head slightly. "Time moves differently here. You will adjust."

Adjust. How could anyone adjust to this? Emily stared at the elaborate gown—the fine silk, the intricate designs that seemed to shimmer with dark energy. It was beautiful, yes, but also a reminder of the chains that now bound her to this realm. A realm she didn't belong in.

Still, she had no choice. Her sister was alive. That was the deal.

Reluctantly, Emily changed into the gown. It fit perfectly, as if made specifically for her. The fabric clung to her, the black and gold hues swirling together like flames. As she stared at her reflection in the large mirror, she hardly recognized herself. She looked like a queen—regal, untouchable—but inside, she still felt like the frightened girl who had made a desperate deal.

The woman watched her silently before nodding in approval. "The King will be pleased," she said.

Emily wasn't sure if she wanted that. The thought of pleasing Lucien unnerved her, and yet there was something about him—something that drew her in despite the fear. She shook the thought away, unwilling to entertain it.

The woman led her down a long corridor, and with every step, Emily's anxiety grew. The air felt heavier, the oppressive heat of Hell pressing down on her. Finally, they reached a large set of double doors, adorned with gold and onyx. The woman pushed them open, revealing a grand hall.

Emily's breath caught in her throat.

The hall was massive, with towering pillars of black stone, and at the far end, a throne made of obsidian. Flames flickered along the walls, casting eerie shadows, and strange, otherworldly figures lined the room—demons, servants of Hell, their eyes glowing with interest as they watched her enter.

And there, standing by the throne, was Lucien.

He looked every bit the ruler of this dark realm—tall, imposing, with an effortless grace that belied his power. His crimson eyes gleamed as they landed on Emily, and a slow smile spread across his face.

"Beautiful," he murmured as she approached, his voice sending a shiver down her spine. "You wear the crown of Hell well."

Emily swallowed hard, her heart racing as she stopped before him. She could feel the eyes of the demons on her, but it was Lucien's gaze that weighed the heaviest.

Lucien stepped closer, his fingers brushing her cheek lightly. The touch was warm—too warm—but not uncomfortable. "Do not fear," he whispered, his voice low enough for only her to hear. "You will grow to love this place. In time."

His words made her skin crawl. Grow to love Hell? It seemed impossible. But before she could respond, Lucien turned to the room, his voice ringing out with authority.

"Today, I present to you your queen," he announced, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Emily, Queen of Hell."

The demons in the hall bowed their heads in unison, their murmurs rising like smoke in the air. The weight of the moment pressed down on Emily's chest, and for a brief second, she felt like she might faint.

Lucien turned back to her, his crimson eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "The crown suits you," he said, his voice soft but commanding. "You will learn to rule by my side."

Emily's mouth went dry. Rule? She hadn't even considered what being queen meant. She wasn't fit to rule anything—let alone Hell. Her thoughts spiraled, but before she could protest, Lucien's hand grasped hers firmly.

"Now," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "let me show you the true depths of your new kingdom."

Emily's pulse quickened. Something told her that her journey into Hell had only just begun.