Afflicted by Fated Demon Mates

Prologue

Before…

When I finally open my eyes, I’m greeted with the pale light of the silver sun and Rhune’s handsome face hovering above mine. I’m lying flat on the ground, my head cradled in his lap, his wings curled around me like a shield.

For some reason, I can’t remember what just occurred or why I’m here. It’s all just… blank. “What… what happened?” I ask, my voice unusually hoarse.

“You had an attack.” Rhune’s voice is pitched with worry. “As soon as you saw your blood, you passed out and started convulsing again. Only this time, your eyes were wide open, and you were saying… things.” His grip tightens on my shoulders. “Do you really not remember anything?”

I shake my head slowly. My body feels heavy, and a horrible itchiness between my shoulder blades is making it hard to focus, not to mention the fact that my head feels like it’s about to explode.

I glance down at my palms and freeze.

My luminous skin glows faintly from somewhere beneath the surface—the silver light pools just beneath my skin, with nowhere left to go but out.

What the fuck…

Before I can even try to make sense of it, a sharp pain lances through my skull, so powerful it doubles me over into a dry heave. It’s worse than anything I’ve ever felt before, and for one horrible moment, it makes me want to beg for death.

Then, all at once, it stops. I’m left breathless, hollowed out, and strangely, terrifyingly complete.

That’s when the voice speaks.

It doesn’t belong to Rhune. It doesn’t belong to Nyx, or Dravik, or anyone I know. It doesn’t even belong to me.

Hey, girl.

I scream, stumbling back while my mates stare at me like I’ve lost my mind. I slap my hands over my ears, gaping at them. “Didn’t you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Rhune demands. “What is wrong?”

This convo is just between us, Willow. No boys allowed.

“Who the fuck are you?” I demand, looking around for the source of the voice, refusing to believe I’ve gone crazy and it’s all in my head. “Show yourself!”

It sighs dramatically, and when it speaks, its words are laced with something that sounds suspiciously like irritation. Stop whipping your head around like an owl. You look ridiculous.

My mates crowd around me, alarm written plainly across every one of their handsome faces. “Willow, what’s wrong?”

Gods, they’re dramatic, aren’t they? I could snap your fingers and turn them to ash, and they dote over you like you’re made of glass. There’s a low chuckling sound. Actually, it’s kind of cute. I will let them live. For now.

“For now?” I demand, shaken.

Yes, it says. When I inevitably tire of their antics, they can be disposed of. Males irritate me greatly, you see. In all my millennia, I have yet to discover one who is good for more than a romp or two in the furs.

“This is insane.” I shake my head, all the blood rushing from my face. A murderous, disembodied voice living rent-free in my head until I croak? An awakening? What on earth is going on?

“Willow? Talk to me, please. Tell us what’s going on.” Rhune’s desperate plea attempts to pull me out of my thoughts, but it’s no use.

“I’ve gone nuts,” I whisper. “I’ve officially snapped.”

A laugh breaks out in the back of my mind, high-pitched and powerful and cruel. Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not crazy. You’re a serafyn, Willow. We are serafyn.

“A what?”

Another laugh, this one far more malicious than the first.

Something born to destroy this entire world. And everything in it.