Page 131 of Lustling

Tall. Broad. Beautiful in a way that feels like cruelty dressed in flesh. His hair falls long and black, streaked with silver. Power rolls off him in waves, filling the air like smoke until I can taste it.

He moves toward me like a predator already sure of its kill.

I step back, palms damp. “Who are you? What is this? What do you want?”

He chuckles low, amused. Stops in front of me. Fingers tip my chin upward. The touch is deceptively gentle, but it feels like the press of a blade against my throat.

“I’m Raziel Tenebris,” he murmurs. Velvet voice with razor edges.

“Tenebris…” The name feels old and wrong in my mouth.

He grins. “Means darkness. Subtle, right? Our father isn’t known for his optimism.”

“Ourfather?”

“I’m Deimos’s brother,” he says, arms spreading theatrically.

“Brother?”

He tilts his head. “He hasn’t mentioned me? Typical.”

“The only brothers I know of are Cassiel and Bastion. Who is your father?”

Raziel only smirks. “I think I’ll let my baby brother spill the family secrets.”

My pulse quickens. “Then what do you want?”

“I’m here to help you, little one.”

“How?”

He studies me, eyes blackening until they’re nearly voids. My breath catches under his gaze. It isn’t fear. It’s something older. Commanding.

Finally, he sighs. Fingers drop from my chin. “You’ve got a nasty little leash on you.”

My hand flies to my throat. “The necklace.”

“Pretty, isn’t it?” His smile is sharp. “Pretty things always cut the deepest. Let’s fix that.”

A flick of his wrist. Subtle, effortless. The choker doesn’t vanish, but it changes. The burn dies to a throb. The throb to nothing. Cold now, like dead bone.

The fog lifts. And then—power.

It slams back into me like a tide, roaring and endless. My knees buckle, breath tearing from my lungs as my magic floods my veins. For the first time in weeks, I feel whole. Alive. Dangerous.

And gods—hungry. So hungry.

The taste of him is in the air. Power. Smoke. Sin. My magic stretches toward it instinctively, a thread of hunger weaving into him before I can stop it.

His breath hitches. My lips part. I feel him. The pleasure. His restraint bending under the pull.

I gasp, staggering, drunk on it. “I have to,” I whisper, desperate, raw. “I’m starving.”

Raziel’s smile falters. His eyes flash once—and then a wall slams down. Solid. Impenetrable. My power collides with it and dies, leaving me empty, shaking.

His voice is velvet, but sharp enough to cut. “Not me, little succubus. Feed off your mates. Not me.”

I reel back, chest heaving. The hunger gnaws, furious at being denied.