Temporary bride for the demon overlord-Chapter 30: The promise

Karma excused herself gently, promising to arrange a meeting with the ladies from Paradise Orphanage. Their smiles were warm, their gratitude genuine, but she barely noticed them now. The weight of the room had shifted. Something ancient stirred in the air—like dust being unsettled from old relics. Beneath the chandeliers and laughter, something darker whispered beneath the surface. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

Her steps were slow, deliberate, as she made her way to the edge of the ballroom. The heels pinched, the lights were too bright, and the air was too perfumed. She needed space, even if it was just the illusion of it.

But space was not what she got.

"You shouldn’t have done that," Alphonse said, appearing beside her like a shadow stepping into form. His voice was quiet, but it carried the edge of steel, honed by centuries of control.

Karma didn’t look at him. "Done what? Agreed to the meeting or saved your pride?"

Alphonse’s jaw ticked. A muscle twitched near his temple. "That man is not human."

She turned her head slightly, finally meeting his eyes. "And you are?"

That made him pause.

The truth shimmered in the air between them—unspoken, but undeniable. They were both more and less than what the world saw. More powerful. More dangerous. Less... reachable.

"I told you I’d handle it," he said, gaze unwavering.

"And I told you I’m not your puppet," she replied, her voice low and firm.

A group of investors strolled past, laughter bubbling from their champagne-slicked lips. They bowed slightly to Alphonse, their deference automatic. Power, even when veiled, seeped through his skin like heat through silk.

"I’m trying to keep you safe," he added after a beat. The words came out gruff, reluctant, like they tasted wrong in his mouth.

"I didn’t ask you to." Her words didn’t rise in pitch or volume, but they landed like stone.

Another pause. The tension between them stretched taut, brittle like glass.

"You looked unwell," he said, softer now. His gaze flicked over her face, reading her like a page.

Karma touched her temple with the back of her fingers. "It’s nothing. Maybe the champagne."

He frowned, and there was something almost vulnerable in the way his expression darkened. "Don’t drink anything that’s not from me tonight."

She blinked. "Controlling much?"

But there was no teasing behind it. Just exhaustion. A hollow ache.

He studied her more closely. His eyes softened—not much, just a flicker, like moonlight slipping through storm clouds. "I can feel your energy flickering. Like a candle in wind."

"You always speak in riddles," she sighed and looked away. "Why is he here? Ryan."

Alphonse’s expression changed instantly—his eyes sharpening. "He wants to test me. That’s what they do when they smell blood in the water."

Karma tilted her head. "You’re bleeding?"

"In a manner of speaking."

A waiter passed by, tray glinting with crystal and condensation. Alphonse plucked a glass of water without hesitation and handed it to her.

Karma stared at it for a moment, then accepted. "Thank you."

Silence bloomed between them again, but this time it wasn’t hostile. Just heavy. Measured. Like two tectonic plates pressing against each other—immovable and inevitable.

"I don’t trust Seraphina," she murmured suddenly, voice almost lost beneath the crescendo of the violin. "She’s up to something."

Alphonse gave a humorless smile. "She always is."

"And Ethan..."

"Is irrelevant," he finished for her, not unkindly.

Karma nodded, but unease still crawled at the base of her spine. There had been a flicker in Ryan’s gaze when he looked at Seraphina—curiosity, maybe even calculation. It made her skin crawl. He was watching everyone, cataloguing weaknesses like a spider counting the strands of its web.

The ballroom’s music surged, covering the murmur of conversation. The chandeliers glittered like sharp icicles, and the air felt tighter now—like the walls were pressing in.

"I need to leave soon," she said quietly, setting the untouched glass on a marble ledge. "I don’t feel right."

"I’ll take you," Alphonse said immediately, no hesitation.

Karma almost refused. Her instinct was to push, to keep him at arm’s length where it was safe. But her legs were trembling in her heels, and the ache behind her eyes had deepened into something bone-deep. Her pride could only carry her so far.

"Fine," she whispered, more to herself than to him.

But just as they turned to leave, a man intercepted them.

"Mr. Li," the man said breathlessly, his bald head gleaming under the chandeliers. His voice carried just enough desperation to grate. "So sorry to intrude, but I was hoping—just a moment of your time, please. There’s been some... interest about the West Sector development. If you’d be willing to—"

"Not now," Alphonse said coldly, voice like stone.

"But—"

Karma stepped forward, slipping into the space between them with the grace of a diplomat. She offered the man a small, polished smile. "My husband will reach out when he’s available. Thank you for your patience."

The man blinked, flustered, and backed away, muttering apologies under his breath.

"You didn’t have to do that," Alphonse said once they were alone again.

"No. But it kept you from tearing his head off in front of fifty witnesses."

To her surprise, he laughed. A low sound, rough and rare, like stones grinding together. She felt it more than heard it—deep in her chest, where things were still tender.

The laugh softened something in her chest that she didn’t want to acknowledge. Not yet.

"Let’s get out of here," he said. His voice was lower now. Warmer. A thread of something unspoken beneath it.

She nodded, and he guided her through the crowd, his hand resting gently on the small of her back. People parted for them instinctively, like leaves shifting for the wind. Karma could feel the eyes on her, could almost hear the whispers, silky and invasive.

The ballroom was a glittering cage, and they were walking toward the door—but it didn’t feel like freedom. Not yet.

As they neared the exit, Karma’s vision swam. The chandeliers blurred, the golden glow dimming for a second. A wave of dizziness hit her like a tide. She clutched Alphonse’s arm, just briefly, just enough to steady herself.

He didn’t comment. He didn’t panic. He just adjusted his grip to better support her, slowing his pace.

"You need rest," he murmured, barely audible over the string quartet.

"I need a solution," she murmured back. "Rest doesn’t fix rot."

He said nothing, but his hand flexed against her back. She didn’t have to look to know his expression had darkened again.

Just before they reached the doors, Karma looked back over her shoulder.

Ryan was watching them from across the room, his expression unreadable. His glass remained untouched. His eyes—inhuman and shimmering—m

et hers.

And smiled.

It wasn’t warmth. It wasn’t kindness.

It was a promise.

One that made her blood run cold.