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My shoes squeak on the clean floor as I get to the door. I grab a raincoat that hangs and put it on, not caring whose it is. I quickly open the door and dart out the back. I pull my hood up over my head, hoping it will keep me somewhat dry.

It doesn’t.

The rain pours down, soaking me immediately. My white high-tops are instantly dirty from the drenched ground. Thunder booms and lightning cracks as I make my way through the thick forest.

I should be scared, knowing what lurks here. But I’m not. Not when I know what my prize will be for hiding.

I dash past towering ancient trees, their knotty roots entwined with the earth, plunging deeper into the heart of the forest. Uncertainty lingers with every step, yet an instinctual pull guides me forward, whispering that this path is the right one.

As it cascades from the lush green leaves above, the rhythmic patter of rain creates a soothing symphony that encases me, a melody of nature that calms my soul. Each droplet dances on the ground, merging with the rich, loamy soil beneath my feet.

Clusters of mushrooms spring forth from the wet earth, their vivid caps contrasting with the velvety moss that blankets the surrounding landscape like a soft green carpet.

Scattered throughout the forest, the vibrant canna lilies stand tall, boldly unfurling their brilliant petals.

They are among the few flowers resilient enough to thrive amidst the relentless rain, painting the damp, shaded corners of the woods with splashes of color against the backdrop of deep greens and browns.

I’ve been running for a few minutes now. I catch my breath quickly and notice a little shack covered in moss ahead. Broken windows adorn the front of the house, and there isn’t a door on the doorframe.

Curiosity piqued, I step inside, needing to get somewhere dry.

Inside the shack, the air is thick with an ancient, musty scent that mingles with the earthy aroma of herbs long since dried.

Rich green moss climbs the weathered walls, its soft texture contrasting with the rough stones beneath.

Handcrafted symbols, woven from delicate sticks, herbs, and once vibrant flowers, dangle from the ceiling like forgotten relics of an ancient ritual .

The center of the floor has a ceremonial circle, which seems to be burned into the ancient wood. Symbols are etched in the circle along with what looks to be a pentagram—north, east, south, west are placed at the cardinal points. Old, melted wax coats the center of the circle.

The atmosphere is undeniably witchy, thick with mystery and unspoken stories. A flicker of fear brushes against my spine, sending a shiver through my body, but I quickly set it aside, my curiosity pulling me deeper into this eerie space.

My necklace starts to thrum between my breasts.

Adonis is near.

I briefly look around at my surroundings. It’s small inside. Time and exposure has warped the wooden beams. I doubt anyone had truly lived here, but perhaps someone seeking solace once upon a time found temporary refuge within these walls.

The roof leaks—a gentle, rhythmic drip—while shadows dance along the corners, draped in thick, glimmering cobwebs that catch the light like ethereal veils.

Every creak of the floorboards beneath my feet seems to echo with the whispers of old magic.

I spot a small closet, which might have even been a pantry, and hide within.

The door creaks open, its broken hinges protesting as I push it aside with utmost care, mindful not to dislodge it entirely.

I duck beneath the low shelf, where dusty jars filled with mysterious contents line the space—some labeled with faded tags that hint at their arcane purpose, while others remain shrouded in secrecy.

I can almost hear the echoes of spells whispered.

My necklace starts to pulse again, this time more prominent.

I smile to myself, giddy for Adonis to find me.

I sit with my arms wrapped around my knees, pulling them to my chest. I remain quiet, biting my lower lip in anticipation .

My eyes dart anxiously around the cramped wooden closet; the scent of aged timber fills my senses. Once sturdy, the wood bears the telltale scars of termite damage, riddled with tiny holes and soft patches hinting at years of decay.

As I explore the closet’s shadows, something catches my attention—a small fragment protruding from the middle of the wall.

It appears to be an old piece of material, perhaps animal hide or a plant-based substance, its texture worn and brittle.

This object seems to have been tucked away in the wall for ages, a secret long concealed; yet, time has conspired against it, gradually peeling back its hiding place, leaving it exposed to the world once more.

I run my fingers over it.

Dust swirls in the air like tiny dancers, and I brush it away with a gentle wave. The fabric beneath my fingers feels luxuriously soft yet remarkably delicate, unmistakably remnants of animal skin. It resembles an ancient treasure map.

As I tug on it, the material effortlessly releases from the wall as though it has been waiting for me to discover it all along.

I take a moment to blow the accumulated dust off the surface, revealing intricate textures and faded patterns.

The fabric is artfully rolled up, bound by a vibrant red ribbon that contrasts beautifully with the muted tones of the material.

At its edge, a small wax seal glistens with inky blackness, hinting at the mystery and history contained within this unexpected find.

The page looks as if it’s been ripped out of a book.

The floors groan, as heavy footsteps near. My heart begins to pound in my chest. I tuck the paper into my bra, hoping to keep it dry.

“ Dani... Dani... Dani, ” Adonis’ voice resonates in the room, and I smile. “Out of all places, of course, you would stumble here. My curious goddess.”

So he knows what this place is? Interesting .

“As if I couldn’t find you in this shit-hole of a place...” He strides forward with heavy, echoing footsteps reverberating in the dank air. I can feel his presence drawing closer as he approaches me.

The closet door is ripped violently from its hinges, and I let out a startled squeal.

Adonis stands with a commanding presence, shirtless.

His tan skin glistens from the rain as it cascades down his sculpted chest, each droplet landing with a resonant splat on the floor, accentuating the power of his physique.

Jet black hair, damp from the downpour, clings to his forehead, falling over his beautiful, designed demonic mask.

The dimple on his chin deepens as he curves his mouth up into a half smile.

An expression of amusement, leaving me breathless as I sit on the ground, captivated by his presence.

He roughly grabs me by the back of my neck and drags me out of the closet. He lifts me to my feet, “Caught you,” his blue eyes shimmer behind his mask.

Before I can speak, he crashes his lips over mine in a hungry embrace. My hands roam his chest and abs, and I eagerly start to undo his belt.

He swats my hands away, “Turn around,” his tone is demanding.

I turn around, my breath becoming heavy with desire.

“No talking,” he says, and a gag suddenly hits my mouth.

I make a muffled sound against it, and Adonis slaps my ass.

Since my pants are wet, the blow makes my skin sting. And I fucking love it.

“In fact, no looking either.” His shadows creep up my body like snakes, forming a blindfold over my eyes. They caress my skin tenderly.

I hear him undo his belt.

“You want to know what this little house was?” He asks me while trailing his hand up and down my arms. He slowly starts unbuttoning my pants, and slides them down to my ankles .

His hands trace my thighs, going up and down, giving me goosebumps. He kisses my calves and then streams his lips and tongue up to my thighs and then to my ass. He bites me hard, and I whimper against the gag.

His fingers sink inside of me, and my knees buckle.

Shit, this feels so good.

“So wet for me. Always such a good girl.” His fingers work me, and I feel his breath hot on my ass. He sinks his teeth in, and I can feel the blood dripping from my cheek down my thigh.

Something about this has me wildly turned on.

His breath on my ass as he says, “Bend over for me, my goddess, put your hands out in front of you and touch the wall.” He helps me lean forward since I can’t see. My hands rest on the rotted wood, and suddenly, his tongue is inside of my puckered hole.

Fuck, yes, baby. I moan and say in my head, knowing that he is listening to me since I can’t talk.

He doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he sinks three fingers inside of my aching pussy, not giving me a moment to adjust, and eats my ass with that perfect fucking tongue.

The sensation is nothing short of heavenly. The texture of the soft wood grates underneath my fingernails as I dig them into the timeworn walls. My breath catches in my throat, and my eyes roll back.

My body tightens, and I quickly start to come.

He pulls away mid-orgasm, and I cry against the gag, needing to finish my release. I can hear the unmistakable sound of his belt being removed from the loops of his pants.

“It’s so easy… making that sweet cunt of yours come for me… your body is so responsive to me.”

Without warning, he strikes my ass with his belt.

The leather cracks against my cold, damp skin, sending a delicious wave of pain striking through my body like lightning.

My back instinctively arches, and my fingernails no doubt leave faint trails on the wall as I savor the mingling sensations of discomfort and exhilaration.

“This place, Dani, is where Octavia would come and perform her magic and spells.”

What the fuck .