The Summoned Demon: 2. The Demon Appears

The air around him was too hot, like standing too close to an open oven. Mara’s skin prickled as if every pore were awake, every nerve stretched taut. She should have been running, clawing at the door, but her legs wouldn’t listen.

The demon didn’t need to move quickly; his presence filled every corner of the room. Still, he stalked toward her like a predator that knew the prey wasn’t going anywhere. His steps were slow, deliberate, each one a reminder of how trapped she was inside her own ritual.

“You smell like need,” he said, inhaling deeply, his nostrils flaring as though scenting her arousal in the air. His eyes burned brighter, and she had to press her thighs together to fight the embarrassing pulse between them.

“I didn’t—” Her voice cracked, pathetic. “I didn’t summon you for this.”

He laughed. Low. Dark. It sank into her stomach and left her shaking. “Liar. You called for fulfillment. You dripped blood onto the circle for desire. I am desire. What else coul