Ryan adjusted his glasses and stared at the glowing screen of his laptop. It was 11:59 PM.

"If you chant the words 'Ohm-Shara-Voss' while pouring exactly three drops of leftover hot sauce into a circle of salt, your future spouse will appear," Ryan read aloud, letting out a snort. "Who actually comes up with this stuff? The internet is a weird place."

He looked down at the floor of his cramped, one-room apartment. He had already laid out the salt circle. He even had a packet of leftover taco sauce in his hand. Ryan wasn't desperate for love; he was just an ordinary college student who was incredibly bored on a Friday night.

As the clock struck midnight, he squeezed three drops of the red sauce into the center. "Ohm-Shara-Voss," he mumbled, feeling utterly ridiculous. Nothing happened.

"Well, shocker," Ryan sighed, turning to head to bed.

Suddenly, his room temperature plummeted. The lightbulb overhead flickered violently and shattered. Ryan gasped, stumbling backward into his desk. From the center of the salt circle, a thick, pitch-black smoke began to billow out, smelling faintly of sulfur and expensive perfume.

“Cough! Cough! Ugh, mortal air is so dreadfully humid,” a melodious, sharp voice echoed through the smog.

The smoke parted, revealing a figure that made Ryan’s brain short-circuit. Standing in his bedroom was a stunningly beautiful young woman. She had cascading crimson hair, piercing amber eyes, and a pair of polished black horns curling elegantly from her temples. She wore a breathtaking gothic gown that looked like it was woven from shadows.

She dusted off her skirt, looked directly at Ryan, and smiled. It was a dazzling, predatory expression.

"Are you Ryan Tanaka?" she asked, her voice purring.

"Y-yes?" Ryan squeaked.

She stepped forward, crossing the threshold of the ruined salt circle. "Splendid! I am Marriott, First Princess of the Abyssal Realm. By the ancient laws of the Nether-Contract, you have summoned me to fulfill our engagement. From this day forth, I am your devoted wife!"

Ryan’s jaw hit the floor. "My what?!"

Ryan did not sleep a single wink. He spent the entire night sitting in the corner of his room, watching Marriott happily claim his bed, sleeping as gracefully as a sleeping beauty—if sleeping beauty had a spiked tail draped over the comforter.

​When the sun rose, Marriott stirred, yawning daintily. "Good morning, my beloved husband! Did you rest well?"

​"I am having a waking nightmare," Ryan whispered, his dark circles matching his soul. "Look, Marriott, there’s been a mistake. I just did a silly internet ritual. I can't be married to a demon princess! I have a midterm on Monday!"

​Marriott giggled, floating out of bed—literally hovering an inch off the tatami mats. "Sillying around or not, the blood-sauce contract is sealed. A royal demon never backs down from her vows. Now, as your wife, it is my absolute duty to prepare a morning feast to fuel your human body!"

​Before Ryan could stop her, she glided into his tiny kitchenette.

​"Wait! Don't touch the—"

​FWOOSH!

​A column of brilliant, purple-and-black flames erupted from the stovetop, instantly incinerating Ryan’s cheap frying pan. Marriott didn't even flinch. She was holding a carton of eggs in one hand and a piece of meat that was definitely still wiggling in the other.

​"Marriott! The kitchen is on fire!" Ryan screamed, grabbing a fire extinguisher.

​"Nonsense, darling! This is literal hellfire," Marriott explained proudly, holding a raw egg directly over the violet flames. The egg cooked instantly, though the shell turned pitch black. "Normal fire doesn't lock in the nutrients of the Nether-Beast bacon. Here, try a bite!"

​She scooped up a piece of the charred, sizzling meat with a fork and pressed it against Ryan's lips. Her amber eyes were wide, sparkling with genuine, innocent affection.

​Ryan looked at the hellfire-cooked breakfast, then at his beautiful, terrifying wife. Swallowing hard, he took a bite.

​It tasted like a mix of premium wagyu beef and battery acid. His tongue went completely numb. "It's... unique," he choked out, tears streaming down his face.

​Marriott beamed, her tail wagging happily. "Wonderful! I shall cook for you every single day!"

​Ryan realized, with absolute terror, that his stomach might not survive this marriage.

After convincing Marriott that burning down the apartment building would make the landlord very angry, Ryan managed to get her out of the house for some fresh air. Of course, getting a demon princess to blend into a modern city was easier said than done.

"Why must I wear this restrictive fabric?" Marriott pouted, tugging at the oversized hoodie and baseball cap Ryan had forced her into. He had managed to tuck her horns under the cap, but her pointed ears still poked out slightly.

"Because humans get startled by horns and gothic dresses," Ryan whispered aggressively as they walked down the bustling sidewalk. "Just act natural."

"Natural? Very well." Marriott immediately locked her arm through Ryan’s, pulling him close against her. "Is this how human couples display their territorial claims? I can feel your heart racing, Ryan. How adorable."

Ryan's face flushed bright red. Passersby were already staring, not because Marriott looked like a demon, but because she looked like a drop-dead gorgeous supermodel clinging to a completely average guy in a wrinkled t-shirt.

"Hey, look at that chick," a loud voice sneered.

Three rowdy street punks blocked their path. The leader, a guy with a lip piercing, smirked at Marriott. "Hey beautiful, why are you hanging out with this loser? Want to go hang out with some real men?"

Ryan stiffened, stepping in front of Marriott. "Leave us alone, we're just passing through."

"Oh? Or what, small fry?" The punk stepped forward aggressively.

Before Ryan could think, the air around them grew heavy. The shadows on the pavement seemed to stretch and writhe. Marriott stepped out from behind Ryan, her amber eyes glowing with a terrifying, murderous crimson light. The baseball cap flew off her head as her horns revealed themselves.

"You dare insult the husband of Marriott?" she whispered, her voice suddenly echoing with the weight of a thousand damned souls. The temperature dropped instantly. "Perhaps your souls would make excellent seasoning for tomorrow's breakfast."

The punks froze, their faces turning completely pale. They didn't just see a pretty girl; they saw the apex predator of the underworld. With collective shrieks of terror, the three men turned and ran down the street as fast as their legs could carry them.

Marriott's terrifying aura vanished instantly. She turned back to Ryan, clapping her hands together joyfully. "See, darling? I protected you! Aren't I a wonderful wife?"

Ryan looked at the cracked pavement where she had been standing, then at her beaming, beautiful face. He let out a weak laugh, realizing his life was never, ever going to be ordinary again.