Chapter 1 #2
When she ran from the coffee shop, irritation flared first, followed closely by disappointment.
If she believed that she could just slip away from me as though I didn’t know the city more intimately than its own infrastructure, then she was wrong.
As if I hadn’t already memorized her address the moment I had learned of it.
As though the taxi she entered could not be followed without effort or consequence.
Run, little rabbit.
The thought hadn’t been cruel.
It had been inevitable.
I had allowed her the illusion of distance because I wanted to see where she would go.
Whether she would seek refuge with another or retreat to the familiarity of her own door.
She had chosen home, and that had told me a lot.
That she was thoughtful enough not to want to include others or potentially bring trouble to their doors.
That she was selfless and put others before herself despite her desperation.
She was utter perfection.
Even when I appeared at her door, she didn’t scream or beg me to leave her be, despite her fear of me.
Then she ran from me as though she truly believed she could outrun something far older than fear itself.
But there was something other than just her fear I tasted in the air.
Something primal. Something she, no doubt, didn’t yet understand.
Desire.
Fate.
One soul recognizing the other.
Yet when she faltered, breathless and furious in my arms, what stirred within me was not the hunger I was accustomed to.
It was protection.
The statue hall confirmed it beyond denial.
When she froze, her hand gripped my jacket as though I was the only solid structure in that corridor of carved stone.
My demon didn’t rise to feed upon her fear, but it recoiled from it.
It rejected the taste of her distress entirely and sought instead to calm her, to steady her, to anchor her.
That was not how my demon was meant to function.
Many times before, I had drawn strength from terror, and without hesitation, I had extracted obedience from fear as easily as taking breath. And yet her discomfort tasted… wrong.
Destroying the hall filled with Hell’s Gods and Goddesses should have felt excessive. The statues had stood there for centuries, carved with methodical artistry. They were nothing more than an ornamental reminder of my royal heritage, nothing more.
Yet when she stood trembling before them, the decision had been easy to make. The way her fingers knotted in the front of my jacket, as though I were the only solid thing left in the world, made me feel like her hero rather than the villain she, no doubt, believed me to be.
Which was why I didn’t simply guide her through that hall.
I erased it.
One by one, the statues shattered beneath my will until nothing remained but fractured marble and drifting dust. When the final echo faded and the corridor fell silent again, I lifted her into my arms and carried her through the ruin myself, because I would not allow her to face them again.
It should have felt like dominance or another demonstration of my authority within my own domain. Instead, it felt dangerously close to responsibility. A deeply rooted need to protect that I had never experienced before.
It should have unsettled me more than it did.
But here I was, sitting upon my throne while Veneficus continued to exist around me.
When the truth was, the entire room could have crumbled to dust the moment she finally appeared.
Just the sight of her, and I felt my lungs fill with the sudden intake of breath.
She was a vision of both mortal and immortal perfection.
My Inanna.
The moment she stepped through the archway, the entire room shifted.
Not dramatically. Not in a way she would ever recognize.
But with subtle hints, like in the way conversations became focused on her.
The rare mortal I had let infiltrate my club.
The one I had claimed publicly that first night, something she knew nothing about.
Even the air seemed to settle differently around us. As though it understood instinctively that something of far greater importance had just entered the room. So, it was little wonder why my senses were on full alert, assessing for any potential dangers my world may present to my fragile mortal.
Needless to say, my gaze found her instantly, and for a moment, I forgot to breathe.
The world around us seemed to evaporate, leaving nothing but the two of us.
My goddess in a green dress, that I had chosen for her.
Chosen, knowing it would draw out the moss green flecks hidden within her eyes.
I had selected it with careful precision, even before picking her up this morning.
I knew it would look perfect on her. Yet, as she stepped through the parted crowd, emerald silk catching the light as it flowed around her legs, I felt it immediately.
With unsettling clarity, I realized the dress had very little to do with the perfection before me.
As she was the one who made it beautiful.
The fabric clung gently at her waist before falling in soft lines over her hips.
The teasing neckline revealed the delicate sweep of her collarbone in a way that felt almost indecent to witness from this distance.
Especially as her hair had been gathered up rather than allowed to fall freely.
The soft arrangement exposed the elegant line of her neck and shoulders, creating far too much temptation within me that was verging on dangerous.
I had to wonder if she could sense it too, as despite holding herself with careful composure, I could still see the tension she carried.
She was nervous.
Yet she had come anyway.
The realization stirred something deep within my chest, something dangerously close to admiration.
My sweet, brave Inanna.
The name surfaced in my thoughts again as she drew nearer, and I realized my restraint would be tested far more tonight than I had anticipated.
But it wasn’t just her beauty alone that held my attention.
It was the other presence that clung faintly to the edges of her.
I felt it the moment she crossed the threshold of the room.
Something subtle.
Faint enough that anyone less attuned to the currents of Hell itself might have dismissed it entirely, yet it was unmistakable all the same.
A demonic signature.
A fresh demonic signature.
My jaw tightened as the realization settled into place.
The trace was not strong enough to suggest the demon stood within the room itself.
Yet the connection to her lingered like the fading echo of a voice long after it had been spoken.
Which meant only one thing… recent contact.
Close enough that the essence had not yet fully dissipated.
So, the creature had been near her again.
A slow flare of cold fury ignited deep in my chest, though none of it reached my expression as I watched her approach my throne.
The runes I had concealed beneath the marble floor remained dormant for now.
Their intricate design hidden within the natural veins of the stone, waiting patiently for the moment I chose to awaken them.
They would only function if the signature remained strong enough, and until this point, I hadn’t been certain it would.
Because until now, the demon had been cautious in the past, keeping himself near the edges of my territory rather than stepping fully into it.
If he had approached her earlier that day, even briefly, the resonance might still linger.
And strongly enough for the circle to recognize it.
If not, the spell would remain as nothing more than dormant ink beneath the marble.
Even now, I couldn’t be entirely certain.
But as she continued forward, unknowingly stepping toward the precise point where the summoning runes waited beneath the floor, something changed. The faint thread of demonic energy clinging to her grew more distinct. Hope stirred within me that perhaps my gamble would pay off after all.
She slowed as she neared the raised platform. Torin stood beside her like a silent sentinel, his posture respectful yet watchful. Although the moment my gaze met his, he inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement. I curled two fingers toward myself in a simple gesture, beckoning her forward.
The command was small, yet unmistakable.
“It’s not wise to keep my lord waiting.” Torin’s voice was low as he murmured this reminder beside her. I watched with quiet interest as she forced herself to continue walking, despite the hesitation that briefly disrupted her stride. The air grew heavier with every step she took toward the throne.
Then she faltered, and I wasn’t surprised. Not when the weight of my attention had always unsettled mortals. But she had shown far more courage than most since the moment we met. Yet the world she now walked into was not one she had ever meant to navigate alone.
So, for that reason, I rose from my throne, and the effect was immediate. Demons across the club straightened in quiet acknowledgement as I stepped down and closed the distance between us. With every inch I crossed, the faint demonic signature clinging to her became clearer.
So, I was right.
He had been near her recently.
Which meant that the spell beneath the floor would recognize it, and the trap would work.
So, I stopped before her, close enough that I could feel the warmth of her body even without touching her.
The scent of her rose around me, enveloping my senses and making it increasingly difficult to keep my restraint.
It took effort not to pull her to me. Effort not to curl a fist in her hair and pull her neck taut before finally sinking my fangs into her delicate, pale flesh, tasting her at last. My gaze traveled slowly over her form, lingering deliberately where the emerald silk clung most intimately before returning to her face.
A deep-rooted hunger pulsed within me. A feeling I didn’t attempt to hide. Yet beneath the desire that coiled steadily through my chest lay something colder.
Calculation.
My gaze flicked briefly toward Torin.
A simple tilt of my chin was enough to get him to step away immediately, leaving us standing alone in the center of the room. One that had suddenly become very quiet indeed.
“Inanna,” I murmured softly.
A name that belonged only to her.
I extended my hand toward her, not to claim but to invite, allowing the choice to remain entirely hers.
When she finally placed her hand in mine, the contact sent a quiet surge of heat through my palm, just like the first time I touched her.
A heat that had nothing to do with the demonic energy I continued to sense lingering faintly around her.
I lifted her hand slowly, turning it slightly as I examined the satin glove encasing it, before lowering my mouth to brush my lips across her knuckles.
“You are exquisite.” The words left me more quietly than I intended, though the truth of them struck far deeper than mere flattery. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen, and fate had nothing to do with the intense attraction I felt toward her.
I released her hand slowly, allowing my thumb to brush once across the back of it before letting the contact fade entirely. Even through the thin satin separating our skin, the heat between us remained unmistakable.
Then I felt it.
The demonic signature flared slightly stronger.
He was closer than I had anticipated, and it was enough to bring me back to my plan to eradicate him, once and for all.
My gaze flicked briefly toward the marble floor beneath us, where the dormant runes awaited my command.
If she took two more steps forward, she would stand directly at the center of the spell.
Exactly where I needed her to be.
Perfect.
“Thank you for joining me,” I said smoothly, allowing the formality to return to my voice as though nothing unusual were about to unfold.
When, in truth, I was merely seconds from getting exactly what I wanted…
My Siren all to myself.