Two weeks have passed, and it's the day of the wedding. Doria was in a separate room getting ready with the help of a maid. She hadn't asked for help, but it was requested by Tartarus and the maid does what he wants.

The maid helped her into her dress, which looked like something out of a fairytale.

It was a large gown with lace etchings of monsters and gory deaths. The sleeves drooped down her shoulders, and the bodice was made of a comfortable material that made breathing a breeze. While it was white, you could see the faint shade of blue whenever the gown glimmered in the light.

Doria sat on a chair in front of a vanity as the maid did her makeup and hair, leaving her features accentuated and somehow more beautiful than before. When the maid left, Doria sat up slightly, leaning towards the mirror and gently touching her face in disbelief. She couldn't believe this was her face. Either she had gotten used to dressing in sweatpants and hoodies, or that maid had unlocked her inner beauty.

She had been turned into one of those beauties you'd see in Victorian paintings, except without a pale face. She was exuding elegance and grace with her timeless appearance, and she could not believe with every fiber of her being that she was looking at herself and not some ancient goddess.

Doria had become the embodiment of beauty and allure. It might be why Tartarus chose her as his bride. Maybe he had seen something she didn't.

As she examined herself in the mirror, Doria jumped in fright at the sound of a knock. "My lady," says a kind voice. "It's time." Doria takes a deep breath and nods. She walks over to the door, being greeted by a dracaenae, who was definitely only being nice due to Tartarus threatening to destroy her.

The dracaenae leads her downstairs, and as they walk through the dimly lit corridors, Doria wonders how drastically her life is going to change. Once she marries Tartarus, there's no going back. He has been good to her - very good - but, what if it was all an act? They weren't on good terms the last time they met, and it seems suspicious that he'd want to marry her of all people. But now isn't the time to think about that. Well, maybe it is, but Doria doesn't like having these thoughts running through her mind. Especially now of all times.

She stops in front of two double doors, taking a deep breath to calm herself as Here Comes the Bride starts to play. As the doors open, Doria's lips curl into a soft smile and she begins walking down the aisle.

The ceremony was taking place in the throne room. Its dark and ominous feel had been dumbed down to a more joyous tone when they added the floral arch and garlands. Thousands of monsters sat in rows. The few that Doria could see were ones she recognized, either as monsters she fought or knew of. Tartarus stood at the altar, dressed in a fancy suit with a look of pride plastered on his face, his red eyes gazing up and down her figure.

Doria made her way to the altar, standing in front of Tartarus, who waved his hand to command the priest to start. He gently grabbed her hands, softly caressing them with his thumb. His look of pride had faded into one of adoration, and he seemed to be in a trance as the priest spoke.

They exchanged vows, swore to love each other, and marked it with a kiss. After all that was said and done, they and the guests retreated to the dining hall for the reception.

Doria sat beside Tartarus, quietly eating her piece of cake as he sipped a goblet of wine. "You're very quiet tonight, spirit," he remarked, swirling his goblet. "Is something the matter?"

Doria had been daydreaming a bit, and her brain hadn't processed what Tartarus said. "Huh? Oh, no. Nothing's wrong. There's just a lot on my mind right now."

Tartarus lightly chuckled. "I assumed you mortals would stop worrying about your weddings on the day of."

She smiled. "Not normally. Some worry it might not go as planned."

"What could possibly happen?"

"Oh, you know, drunken outbursts, attention stealing assholes, family members that don't like the bride or groom. Just a lot really."

The Lord of the Pit is quiet before he speaks, his goblet to his lips . "You mortals are strange, vile creatures."

Doria looks away and mumbles, "If only you knew how vile we can be."

~~~~~~~A few hours later ~~~~~~

The door to a master bedroom bursts open, and a pair of newlyweds enter, their lips interlocked in a passionate kiss.

Tartarus shuts the door behind him, lifting Doria off of the ground. She wraps her legs around his wait. Just as she does that, he, not so gently, places her on the bed, pinning her down and removing her dress. Doria giggles as he does so, wriggling out of the dress and letting it get tossed to the side.

One hand runs through his black hair as another grabs onto his arm, pulling him closer. Tartarus smirks, pulling away to give her some air. His expression, while in a sneer with narrowed eyes, showed lust and desire. He wanted her, and he wanted her now.

Doria was quick to oblige, sitting up only to be pushed back down and pinned by her husband's weight. His lips trailed down her neck, sucking and biting, leaving a mark saying he's claimed her as his.

Somehow in some way, this pleasurable and passionate night seemed different than all of the other times the two had sex. Tartarus seemed more eager to claim her, and Doria was more eager to let him. It wasn't her thing, but something about his red eyes boring into her sea-green ones as he roughly thrusted inside of her sent a tingle down her spine and her body to tremble with ecstasy.

Such a pleasurable feeling it was. Placed into a position and then having to look her husband in the eyes as he molded her body to fit his dick, being teased relentlessly, and then quivering uncontrollably as she reached her climax. Doria was always left exhausted by the end of it, and it was almost cathartic as her brain can't focus on anything except the satisfaction she felt.

Gods, I don't regret this, Doria thought to herself as her eyelids become heavy, and she slowly falls into a deep sleep.