Page 19 of Lustling

‘You’re mine.’

The voice isn’t Deimos’s. It’s colder. Deeper. A claim written in blood.

I freeze. There’s someone in the doorway. A man. No—a thing. Shadow wreathed. Horned. Taller than any man has a right to be. Eyes like embers stare through me.

I can’t breathe. I try to speak, try to move, but my limbs won’t respond. I’m paralyzed beneath Deimos—who keeps moving, unaware.

‘I’m coming for you,’ the voice murmurs. ‘Soon.’

I wake with a choked sob, bolting upright. Sweat drenches my skin. My thighs are slick. The sheets are wrapped tight around me like restraints. But I’m alone. No voice. No horns.

Except…

In the mirror across the room—just for a moment—I see him. The horned man. Standing behind me. Smiling.

I blink. Gone.

But I don’t sleep again. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

SEVEN

Ipace the length of the room like a caged animal, my boots striking the floor with a rhythm too sharp to be casual. Each breath feels shallow, ragged, too loud in the heavy air. The fire crackles in the hearth, throwing restless light across the walls, but it does nothing to burn off the storm forming inside me. I can feel their eyes on me. Bastion sprawls across the couch like sin incarnate, his long legs spread wide. Cassiel is a shadow near the window, arms folded across his chest, the pale spill of moonlight catching in his hair and eyes until he looks like something carved from frost. They don’t speak. They’re waiting.

So I give them what they want. I tell them everything. How she stepped into the confessional. How her voice shook when she said my name—Father Deimos—like she’d been waiting her whole life for someone to give her permission to fall. How her fingers slipped beneath her skirt while I watched. How I fed on her pleasure. How I came, harder than I have in months, because of her. And more than that—how she fed on me. How I felt something inside her shift, like a coffin cracking, something dying or something ancient waking up.

Cassiel doesn’t speak. Bastion tips a bottle to his mouth and snorts, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “So?” Hisvoice is a drawl, eyes gleaming with amusement. “You jerked off to some good little church girl discovering masturbation. Thrilling.”

I stop pacing. Turn. My voice comes out low and sharp, steel sheathed in velvet. “She fed off me. Like a succubus.”

That gets their attention. Cassiel’s shoulders go still. Bastion’s smirk falters, just a fraction. “A virgin succubus?” Bastion scoffs after a beat. “Come on. That’s not a thing. Succubi are born dripping in sin, not repression.”

I glare at him, heat pulsing beneath my skin. “You didn’t see her. You didn’t smell her. You didn’t taste what she gave off. Her denial makes her hunger stronger. It’s like she’s been starving herself since birth.”

Cassiel’s voice is soft, but it cuts through the room like a blade. “She doesn’t know?”

“No,” I bite out. “She has no fucking clue. Her mind’s locked. I can sense her emotions, but I can’t get in. I’ve tried. It’s like she’s warded from the inside out, but she didn’t do it herself.”

Bastion leans forward, elbows on his knees, his eyes narrowing, the lazy amusement gone. “You’re serious.”

“She’s dangerous,” I say. “Or she will be.”

Cassiel studies me with a gaze too calm to be human. “And what are you planning to do?”

I don’t hesitate. “I’m going to force her transformation.”

Silence descends, thick and heavy as ash.

Bastion’s mouth twists into a feral grin. “Now that’s the Deimos I know. How?”

“By killing her.”

The words fall like stones into the firelight. Cassiel doesn’t move, but I feel the ripple of tension across the bond between us. Bastion laughs, low and biting. “Or,” he drawls, “we could break her without killing her. Chain her to the bed. Let her starve onthe edge of climax until she begs. Hell, let me fuck her while you watch. That’ll crack her open.”

I move before I think. My fist slams into the wall beside his head, wood splintering under my knuckles. Bastion doesn’t flinch. He grins wider, like he’s entertained by the violence trembling in me.

“No,” I growl.

His voice drops, testing. “Why not? Too far?”