Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Nyte clenched his fists, digging his claws into his palms as he stared at the door.
You could join me if you’d like, Nyte.
Ember’s complete lack of fear had been jarring enough, but her forwardness was even more so.
Though she’d claimed she hadn’t known she was a witch, how could he believe her when her charms were as potent as those of a succubus?
Why would she be so open in her interest if not for some nefarious purpose?
Humans dealt with demons to obtain power—to make deals, to forge pacts, to gain materials and forbidden knowledge so they could work more powerful magic than their mortal vessels could normally wield.
The most ambitious of them sometimes even tried to enslave beings like Nyte. To bind them with spells, to control them and use them as limitless sources of power.
This was different. Ember was different.
She’d not yet asserted any such claim on him, and that had left him embarrassingly off balance thus far.
He was the immortal being here, he was the one with the magic, the power.
She didn’t even know the restrictions placed upon him by the summoning spell! And still she was the one in control.
Nyte growled, glaring at the floor under the bed. Though the summoning circle had faded during the night, it was emblazoned in his memory, and he could almost see it there now, taunting him with its light.
Hells, but he had fallen. The way he’d retreated from her… He, a timeless demon coalesced from the night itself, had retreated from her, a mortal witch who didn’t even know what she was!
His tail whipped behind him, its end striking his leg with a painful sting. With a hiss, he forced it to still.
The sound of falling water came from behind the closed door. His attention snapped back toward it.
The shower. After she’d fallen asleep as though a nocturnus weren’t lurking in the corner of her bedroom, Nyte had tested the limits of the binding and explored his surroundings, including the privy.
Though there were familiar features in her home, they were greatly outweighed by the strange and new.
Even the tub and wash basin were different.
Strangest of all was the thin little box she’d kept on the stand beside her bed all night. It had lit up a few times, casting its glow on the ceiling, and when Nyte had investigated it, there’d been writing on its face. He understood the words, but their meaning eluded him.
Update has been applied successfully. Swipe up to get started.
He’d refused to touch the thing. He was in no mood to inadvertently trigger the scrying mirror—or whatever it was—and make his presence known to some witch on the other side who actually knew what they were doing.
The tone of the shower changed, suggesting that Ember had just stepped beneath the flow.
Did that mean she’d undressed? That she’d slid her nightgown off, revealing more of that smooth skin, more of those enticing curves? Was water now cascading over her full breasts, down her belly, along her long legs?
He’d rejected her invitation, but he was tempted to rematerialize on the other side of that door and enter the tub with her, to behold her body and run his hands over every inch of its softness.
Something stirred low in his belly, something he hadn’t felt in centuries. A hot, raw, primal thing beyond his comprehension that had come very close to seizing control whenever she’d touched him.
By the void, the feel of her hands on his skin was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Even the stroke of her finger along his jaw had left him tingling.
There was no denying it. He wanted the witch.
His tail flicked back and forth eagerly. Growling, he swept a hand backward, catching hold of the rebellious appendage and halting its insufferable motion.
Lust. That was all he was feeling now, and he’d been through it before. Where had it led him? What good had it done? The fleeting moments of pleasure and bliss hadn’t been worth the torment he’d endured afterward. He would not allow it to get the better of him again, especially not with a mortal.
And he knew exactly who to blame for all this.
“Starling, show yourself,” he snarled, turning away from the privy door.
“Tsk tsk. You are in such a poor temper, Nyte.” The sprite’s blue-white light appeared beneath the bed, and she flitted up to fly above him tauntingly before landing on his shoulder.
Her three eyes met his. “You have a naked woman in there who invited you to join her, and here you are, being snarly.”
He scowled at the sprite. “I am not being snarly.”
Starling put her four hands on her hips and bared her sharp, pointed teeth. “Starling, show yourself!”
“That is not how I sou—”
She raised her upper hands and clawed at the air. “Grr, grr, hiss, hiss.”
Nyte rolled his eyes. “Whenever you’re done, you and I need to have a serious conversation.”
“Pfft. All you have been is serious for hundreds of years! It is time to move on, Nyte.” Starling leapt into the air and hovered before him, waving her arms toward the privy. “She is perfect. I know you can see it as well as I do.”
Nyte’s tail twitched in his hand, agreeing with the sprite’s assessment. He squeezed it. “How do I break the tether?”
“There is no breaking it. You must let it run its course.” She tilted her head far, far to the side, practically bending herself in half. “Unless…one of you dies.”
“And you know full well that your little binding spell prevents me from doing her harm.”
“Of course I know! And I would be very, very cross with you if you were to allow harm to befall our witchling.”
“Our witchling, is she?”
Starling grinned. “Yes. At least until you make her yours.”
“It will not happen. All you’ve done is condemn me to a month of suffering.”
“If you are so averse to getting closer to Ember, you still have two hands. Only you can ease that suffering.”
Nyte glared at his companion. “That is not what I meant, and you know it.”
Starling clapped her hands with a giggle. “Oh, this will be so entertaining!”
He threw his tail back and leveled a finger at the sprite. “This is cruel. Our friendship has endured for eons, and this is what it’s become?”
“It is because I am your friend that I am doing this.” She flitted closer, hands on her hips once more, and glared at him. “You have sulked for far too long over someone who did not deserve what you gave her.”
“And she certainly didn’t deserve what she took, either.” Nyte absently rubbed at his chest as the ghost of that old ache stirred within him. “But why, why, would you think this mortal is the answer? She didn’t even know she’s a witch, damn it.”
Starling waved a hand. “Her magic is untapped, and that is all the better for you, is it not? If she does not know any spells, she cannot use them against you. As for why her…well, that is for you to discover, Nyte.”
“I will not repeat my mistake, Starling. I will not succumb again.”
“And I will not allow you to wallow in despair for the rest of your immortal life.” She notched her chin up. “Besides, I do not make mistakes. She will not be a mistake.”
“Oh, I’m sure I can list at least—”
The shower turned off, and Nyte’s attention returned to the closed door. Half-formed images teased at the edges of his mind, imaginings of Ember’s naked body, glistening with drops of water as she stepped out of the tub…
He growled through his teeth and swung his gaze back to Starling, only to find empty air where she’d been hovering. “Damn you. You know I’ve always found that rude.”
Faint, tinkling laughter answered him from somewhere unseen.
Nyte balled his fists and drew his wings in tight, tail whipping in agitation.
The sprite knew how to break this binding, how to reverse the summoning, she had to know, but she’d never tell him how.
She’d never been one to give up once she’d put a plan into motion.
Especially if it meant she’d be able to laugh at his expense.
Compose yourself. You cannot allow the mortal to see you in this state.
He’d already been caught off guard by Ember. He could allow himself no further slip-ups, could display no further weakness. She was a human, a witch who knew nothing of magic, and he was the embodiment of the night.
Whatever the terms of this binding, Nyte held the power. The situation was his to control, Starling be damned. He would not allow this mortal witch to—
The privy door opened, and Ember stepped out wearing nothing but the large blue towel wrapped around her lush body.
Fuuuuuuuuck.
Nyte stared at her, unable to look away. Her silver hair was twisted up and clipped high on her head, with damp, loose strands sticking to her neck, and her pale skin was rosy from the heat of the water. All he needed to do was rip that towel away and she’d be bare for his eyes to feast upon.
What color were her nipples? What did her cunt look like? What did it taste like?
Heat flared deep inside him and spread through his body, brightening the stars shining through his skin.
The magic that fueled him, that formed him, roiled and gathered at his groin, threatening to take shape.
Pressure built, thrumming, agonizing pressure, and he knew that if he allowed his cock to form, he’d be lost. He’d take this witch, take everything he wanted from her, and give her everything she wanted in return.
Was he really willing to submit to this lust just for a taste of her?
Ember stopped a couple feet away and smiled as she toyed with the tucked-in corner of the towel, securing the cloth around her. “If you want to see me naked, you only need to say so, Nyte.”
Fuck, the way she said his name, caressing it with her soft, sweet voice, would be his undoing.
With a growl, he spun away from her, giving her his back. “Beguiling witch.”
His tail swished back and forth behind him. He reached back and caught it, clutching it tight and wishing he could strangle the misbehaving appendage into submission.