Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 22620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Something that teases and tantalizes, that causes that ever-present hunger to start to throb in the pit of my belly.
I breathe deeply and settle my eyes on my reflection in the mirror.
A hundred years since I last saw myself in this form, but perfection is timeless. Demons are not known for their fragile egos or human like insecurity.
I take a second to admire myself. Gray flesh stretched taut over seven feet of muscle and sinew. I clench a fist, staring at my taloned fingers, and fondly remember the last time I tore a human’s innards out of his screaming throat. As I flex my neck, I see the tendons shift beneath skin that thins and finally ends entirely at my jaw.
My mating member flexes in the glass, the blunt head turning deep crimson and pulsing, I sense its own inner thoughts. It’s hopeful. For what I’m not sure because finding my one and only mate amongst the billions of beings alive and dead is less likely than hell turning into an organic food co-op.
I give one final look, admiring my skull. What a skull. Bone as white as alabaster, dark eye sockets flickering with fire, a tongue that shifts and twists inside my jaw, split at the end like the tongue of a snake.
And like a snake, it tastes the air and scents… That something again.
It’s overwhelming. Fresh and pure, tangling around my throat.
“If I need you, I’ll tell you,” I snarl at Varak. “Otherwise, you blend in and stay silent.”
He melts back into the dark, his body taking on a translucency that allows him to nearly disappear.
The estate stirs as I stroll through moonlit rooms I remember well, and I can feel it waking up around me.
On a celestial level, it’s still mine, but a hundred years is a long time for humanity. Who knows who holds the deed now?
Stepping into a dusty hall, the scent grows stronger, hitting me in the chest where a heart should be.
Blood. Fresh, metallic, and alive, riding the air like a fucking invitation. My body answers before thought can catch it, and I feel the hunger battle me for control. I understand the hope in my cock now.
The scent pulls me toward the grand stairs. Sweetness and copper over warm skin. It slices through every bit of restraint I built in the dark, my feet carrying me forward.
I turn out of the doorway into the foyer, dust dancing in the moonlight as I catch movement and jerk my head around.
She's halfway down the staircase when I see her.
Barefoot, wearing a thin white slip that's plastered to her body like the fabric is caressing every curve. One hand is pressed to her chest, and there's a bead of blood trembling at her fingertip. I watch it drop, and she watches it fall too, following my gaze as it hisses when it hits the wooden step.
Sleek golden hair breaks over her shoulders, sucking the little light in the space around her like a vortex. She’s so young, with the curves of a woman but the innocence of a child. Her nose is dotted with fifty-six of what humans call freckles. My demon eyes count them in a fraction of a second.
“Freckles,” I hiss.
Such an odd word.
I slow time, re-counting those little dots as a wave of jealousy burns through me that they’re part of her.
She draws a sharp breath as I return time to its normal pace here. Her gasp is caught in her throat as eyes the color of ice and sky lock onto my form, but she doesn't run. She just stares, wide blue irises fixed on me like she expected me.
Interesting.
Mortals normally flee or scream when they see me. Usually both. I’ve learned to stay slow, to keep my movements controlled if I want a human to stay long enough to be useful. But I sense no fear from her.
Well, maybe a little, I mean my cock is front and center and fucking glowing red and growing right in front of her. It’s even scaring me a bit if I’m being honest.
But, there’s fascination too. And something else. Something I don’t have a name for.
"Did you open the door, little witch?" My voice comes out low and smooth. Her pupils dilate as she focuses on my face. Heat crawls up her pale, freckled cheeks.
So small. So delicate. And yet… There is strength.
"I found a book..." The words are hesitant. She holds her bleeding finger tight as she continues. "It said to use blood, so I did. But I didn't think it would work."
I climb the stairs until we're eye level, and I get a better look at her.
She’s too young to be here alone. Soft skin, with full lips too mature for her youthful body, parted just a little as her chest rises and falls.