Rayne

The power—raw, vibrant, intoxicating—was unlike anything I had ever encountered. It coursed through me, surging in waves that made every nerve hum with energy. Her power was not the predictable, brittle magic of Hell; it was wild, untamed, alive. All the might of Hell's flames paled in comparison to the vitality of what pulsed inside her.

Holding her close, our foreheads pressed together, I struggled to catch my breath. Her pulse hammered against mine, and I couldn't help but revel in the connection between us. The kiss had been an unexpected delight, the ultimate flourish to the intoxicating rush of her energy. My fingertips sparked with the magic I'd drawn from her, and for the first time in centuries, I felt invincible.

What I could do with this power...

As my hand brushed down her back, the realisation struck me with clarity. She was mine. Her power was mine. I could wield it, shape it, bend it to my will. The thought sent a shiver of excitement through me, a thrill I hadn't felt in eons.

"Rayne." Her voice, soft and uncertain, pulled me from my musings. She pulled back slightly, her wide, bright eyes searching mine. "Are you okay?"

I smiled, allowing my gaze to linger on her flushed cheeks, the delicate curve of her lips. How ironic it was, that a girl who would mourn a wasp would find herself tangled up with a demon. "Resplendent," I replied, my voice low and smooth. I held her a moment longer than necessary, savoring the feel of her in my arms.

Her cheeks darkened to a rosy hue, and the sight sent a spark of heat through my blood. The urge to kiss her again gnawed at me, fierce and insistent. I wanted to pull her close, to feel her body pressed against mine, to hear her whisper my name in that breathy, uncertain way.

"Rayne," she murmured again, her voice quieter this time, doubt shadowing her eyes. "About that kiss—"

My thumb swept across her lips, still red and swollen from our earlier connection. "Don't think about it, my pet," I murmured, my voice carrying a note of command.

The last thing I needed was her overthinking this moment, especially now that I understood what she carried within her. She was too valuable to lose, too vital to my plans. Reluctantly, I let her go, my arms falling to my sides as she stepped out of my lap. The absence of her warmth left me colder than I wanted to admit.

I stood, snapping my fingers, and the grime and blood vanished from our bodies with a shimmer of magic. The spell came effortlessly, the power she had given me still thrumming through my veins.

Skyler watched me warily, her arms wrapped around herself as though trying to hold everything together. Uncertainty flickered in her green eyes, shadowed by an unease she couldn't seem to shake. I stepped closer, my hands brushing lightly over her shoulders. Her tension radiated through the air between us, and I softened my tone, letting my words fall deliberately.

"Thank you," I said, my voice low, steady. "For saving me."

Her gaze dropped to where the demon's cleaver had torn into my side. She stared, her brow furrowing as though expecting the wound to reappear.

"I'm fine," I reassured her, offering a faint smile. "Thanks to you."

She exhaled, but the breath was uneven, her fingers twitching slightly. "Who was that demon?" she asked, her voice tight, hesitant. "And why did he attack me?"

Sliding my hand around her waist, I gently guided her out of the alley. She moved, but each step was stiff, mechanical, as if her body hadn't caught up to her racing thoughts.

"He was a lesser demon from my court," I explained evenly, careful to keep my tone calm. "Likely thought he could win favor by confronting the powerful witch who'd bound me."

Her pace faltered, her expression freezing in disbelief. "Bound you? I didn't bind you! I didn't mean to do any of this!"

"But he doesn't know that," I said smoothly, steering her toward the car. "To him, you're the formidable mortal who summoned and trapped a high demon. That's no small feat."

Her steps slowed even more, her face pale and tight with dread. "Are there more like him?"

"I'm afraid so," I replied, opening the car door for her. "Brainsplitter was just one of many. Lesser demons constantly vie for attention and status. They'll see you as an obstacle—or worse, an opportunity."

She stopped short, looking up at me with wide, fearful eyes. "Brainsplitter?"

"Yes," I said, almost lightly. "He's one of six brothers: Skullgrinder, Soulripper, Fleshrender, Bonebender, and Liverpicker."

Her lips parted in silent disbelief, her hands trembling at her sides.

"All of them are eager to curry favor with higher demons like myself," I continued, ignoring the way her breathing hitched. "But you needn't worry. As long as I'm here, none will harm you."

She stared at me, her expression unreadable, but her fear was tangible. When she finally moved, her steps were slow, her body rigid as I helped her into the car.

After settling into the driver's seat, I glanced at her. She was staring out the window, the tension in her shoulders unrelenting.

"Rayne," she asked suddenly, her voice quiet but sharp with concern. "Is my Grandma in danger?"

"Not with me around," I said, letting confidence settle into my tone as I started the car. The engine spluttered its usual protest, but I simply tapped the dash, a flicker of magic sparking from my fingers. The worn, clunky rattle smoothed into a steady, satisfying purr, and I couldn't help but smile.

"See?" I said, glancing at Skyler, whose wary eyes shifted from me to the now purring engine. "This is what I can do, provided, of course, I'm allowed to... top myself up with your magic."

Her brow furrowed, her arms crossing defensively as she sat back in her seat. She wasn't impressed—yet. But her distrust and resistance only made the challenge more intriguing.

Outside, the rain drummed softly against the roof of the car, a steady rhythm that mirrored her hesitation. I leaned back slightly in the driver's seat, letting the engine hum and the silence stretch. I could practically see the gears turning in her head, weighing her options, her responsibilities. Good. Let her think it was her decision.

Finally, she exhaled, her voice steady but reluctant. "I guess... we'll need to discuss feeding you. I can see now that keeping you strong might be necessary, especially if Brainsplitter's brothers come looking for retribution."

Victory surged through me like wildfire, but I schooled my expression, keeping my satisfaction tucked behind a calm facade. I didn't need her catching on to how well my plan was working.

"Wise choice," I said smoothly, pulling the car back onto the road. The rain blurred the edges of the world outside, but my focus remained razor-sharp. "And you'll be pleased to know, I'm not demanding. A simple top-up once a day should suffice."

I paused, letting the thought simmer before throwing out the bait. "Although," I added, as if it were an afterthought, "it would be far more convenient if you let me sleep next to you. Proximity makes the exchange much easier."

I bit back a grin, keeping my eyes on the road. "Of course," I said, my voice mild and agreeable. Not yet, my little witch. But soon.

Rain drummed softly on the roof, filling the space between us. I thought the conversation was over, but I caught the subtle way her hands twisted in her lap. Her shoulders stiffened as though bracing herself.

"Okay," she said finally, her voice quieter now. "Once a day."

I stayed silent, waiting. Her fingers fidgeted, her gaze dropping to her lap, her cheeks flushed with color. She hesitated, then glanced out the window, her profile shadowed by uncertainty.

"But..." she started, her voice low. "Is there a reason it feels... so intense?"

The question lingered, her discomfort palpable. She wasn't just asking about the energy transfer. Her mind was circling back to the kiss. Mine hadn't left it either. The weight of her in my lap, the warmth of her magic flowing into me, the way her lips had felt—soft, uncertain, perfect—it all came rushing back with startling clarity.

"It's the bond," I said finally, keeping my tone even. "Magic heightens everything. Makes it... stronger. It's normal."

Her fingers brushed her lips, her body tense. She turned her head further toward the window, as if she couldn't bear to look at me. "I don't like it," she muttered.

The corner of my mouth tugged upward. "You'll get used to it," I replied smoothly, my tone light, almost dismissive.

She folded her arms across her chest, her chin lifting slightly in defiance. I let the silence stretch out between us, not pushing her further. Let her wrestle with it, let her feel the pull of the bond she couldn't escape.

In time, she'd come to accept it—accept me.