Elyra's consciousness returned in fragments – the flicker of candlelight against stone walls, the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, the throbbing pain behind her eyes. She lay curled on her side, her cheek pressed to the cold floor of the summoning chamber. Her robes were damp with sweat, clinging to her trembling body as if desperate to anchor her to the mortal realm.
She tried to inhale deeply, but the air felt heavy, thick with sulfur and something darker. Memories surged back: the blood ritual, the forbidden incantations, the circle of ash and chalk. And him.
The demon.
"Awake so soon?" a deep voice drawled from somewhere behind her, smooth and dark, curling around her mind like poisoned silk.
She flinched at the sound, every muscle tightening as instinct screamed at her to flee. But her limbs felt leaden, her magic muted and distant. She forced her eyes open and pushed herself onto trembling hands, blinking through the haze.
The chamber was dimly lit now. Most of the candles had burned low, their flames dancing lazily, casting elongated shadows that writhed along the walls like spirits seeking escape. The summoning circle was ruined, lines of chalk shattered where her body had collapsed, smeared with her blood.
He stood just beyond the broken circle, watching her. Rhaziel. His name alone sent a shiver of dread through her spine. He was impossibly tall, broad shoulders framed by vast, ragged wings that flickered between solid form and shadow. Horns curved back from his temples, black as obsidian, glistening faintly in the candlelight. His eyes burned gold, their depths endless and predatory. Dark hair fell over his brow in loose waves, framing features so devastatingly beautiful they hurt to look at.
He tilted his head, studying her with a faint, amused smile curving his full lips. "You mortals are so fragile," he mused, his voice reverberating through the stone chamber, vibrating in her bones. "Yet so… determined."
Elyra forced herself to sit up fully, ignoring the way her vision swam and her chest tightened painfully. Her hands curled into fists on her lap, nails digging into her palms.
"I command you," she rasped, though her voice trembled, betraying her fear. "You are bound to me. Obey."
Rhaziel chuckled softly, a sound as smooth and dangerous as oil poured over flame. "Command me?" He stepped forward, the shadows parting reluctantly around his towering form. "Little witch, your spell did not bind me to your will."
She swallowed hard, heart hammering as he crouched before her, bringing his burning gaze level with hers. He reached out with a claw-tipped finger, trailing it along her cheek with unsettling gentleness.
"It bound us together," he murmured, his voice lowering, darkening. "Your soul is tied to mine now. I feel your fear. Your pain. Your desire."
Elyra flinched, heat rising to her cheeks despite her terror. She tried to pull back, but his hand shot out, fingers curling around her throat with enough force to make her gasp. He didn't squeeze, but the threat in his grip was clear.
"You wanted power," he whispered, leaning closer until his lips nearly brushed hers. His eyes glowed brighter, golden fire swirling in black voids. "You summoned a demon of ruin to protect yourself. Did you think there would be no price?"
Tears burned at her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "I don't… I don't care about the price," she lied, her voice shaking. "I need you to—"
"To what?" he interrupted, his smile sharpening. "To slaughter your enemies? To destroy those who tormented you? To make you strong enough to stand alone?"
She said nothing, but her silence was answer enough. His smile widened, cruel and beautiful.
"Then we are aligned, little witch," he purred, releasing her throat only to grip her chin between thumb and forefinger. "Because I will raze this world to ash if it means keeping what is mine."
Her breath hitched. "I am not yours."
Rhaziel's eyes flickered with something darker, his smile fading. In an instant, his grip tightened, not enough to hurt but enough to remind her of his strength.
"You are bound to me," he growled softly, his voice vibrating with restrained power. "Your magic feeds me. Your soul nourishes mine. We are one now, whether you desire it or not."
He released her chin, his hand sliding to cradle her cheek, thumb brushing away a tear that slipped free. For a fleeting moment, his touch was almost gentle, his gaze softening with something unreadable.
"I can feel your heart," he whispered, his voice losing its mocking edge. "It calls to me like a dying star, desperate to burn one last time before it collapses."
She closed her eyes, tears slipping free despite her resolve. "What do you want from me?" she whispered.
He leaned forward, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke, each word dripping with dark promise.
"Everything," he breathed. "Your fear. Your power. Your purity. Your corruption. Your soul. I will consume it all, and in return, I will give you what you desire most."
She shivered, unable to move as his lips traced the curve of her neck, fangs grazing her skin with wicked delicacy.
"And what is that?" she whispered, her voice trembling with terror and something darker, deeper, that she refused to name.
He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, golden fire burning with endless hunger.
"Freedom," he said, his smile returning, cruel and impossibly beautiful. "Freedom from them. Freedom from yourself. Freedom… through me."
And as his mouth descended to claim hers in a kiss that tasted of ash and eternity, Elyra knew, with bone-deep certainty, that her soul was already lost.