Page 4 of Incu-bliss

Inhale. Exhale.

Why can't I cleanse my mind of these scenes as easily as I breathe? Why do they hover like gnats? I have seen darkness before—have dealt it with my own hands—but there was something relentless, something particularly insidious about the desperation etched onto the faces of the unloved and discarded.

Why should a demon care? What do I know about love except that it’s what humans desire and need. The helpless cannot survive without kindness and care, but those are the ones often ignored. Fifty years of witnessing the careless nature of those wicked creatures who deem themselves worthy of heavenly redemption wore me down and robbed me of what little pleasure I gained from buying souls. A job I previously loved became unbearable.

I shift on the rug, feeling its scratch against my ankles. My fingers tense into fists, then relax again. The discipline required for this simple act of meditation seems beyond me now. Turning off my brain long enough to let it float away is impossible.

A loud thud from somewhere nearby startles me back to full awareness. My eyes snap open, my heart hammering against my rib cage as though fighting to escape. Even here, in what should be a sanctuary, I cannot find peace. The walls seem to lean in closer, suffocating. I need space.

I rise from the rug with a new resolve, smoothing out some of the wrinkles of frustration and rage within me. If peace doesn't come to me here, I may seek it elsewhere—perhaps even forge it from this chaos myself. A walk in nature might do me well.

With one last deep breath steadier than the ones before, I tread farther into this temple of tranquility—my footsteps muffled by plush, earth-toned carpets. There must be an exit nearby. The thought of returning to the chipper receptionist makes me cringe. Surely, a demon can sniff his way out of this maze they call a spa.

As I prowl through the halls, wandering aimlessly past creatures who are obviously much happier to be here than me, my senses are suddenly snared by an unfamiliar scent. It's sweeter, pure, and utterly intoxicating. My steps are slow, a primal instinct urging caution, yet my curiosity propels meforward. The scent strengthens, weaving vividly through the air like a melody that tugs at the core of my being.

Ahead, through a break in the crowd, I spot her, the female who now owns my heart. Even from this distance, she is unmistakably distinct. Her hair cascades like a waterfall of moonlight, stark against her dark dress. My heart, an organ I thought long dead, sparks with emotion and stirs with a peculiar ache.

She is not alone. Another figure stands beside her—a demon of lesser rank—whom she assists with an incantation, his aura brightening the longer she chants. The female's hands move with grace and precision, her focus entirely on her task. But the sight strikes an unexpected discord in my chest, a raw slash of jealousy that surprises me with its intensity.

Who is this demon who commands her attention when every fiber of my being screams for it to be mine? The realization that she ismyfated mate sears through me like wildfire. I've heard tales of such connections my entire life—a powerful and rare alignment of souls destined to find each other across lifetimes and landscapes. But I’ve never believed it. Even when my brother swore it was real, I doubted his conclusions. Now faced with reality, I find it both exhilarating and torturous. There are no guarantees she will accept me. How will I survive if she doesn’t?

As I step closer, the female’s head lifts and her piercing blue eyes scan the room, perhaps searching for my scent. In that fraction of a moment, our gazes lock, and a myriad of unspoken words pass between us. There’s recognition, but it’s overshadowed by an intense pull that draws us inexorably together. Time suspends, and the world blurs at its edges, leaving only her, clear in my sight.

Slowly, I step out from the shadows into the light. Every instinct tells me this moment is pivotal—not just for me, but forboth our intertwined destinies. Whatever comes next must be approached with care. Fate has brought us together, but where we go from here remains uncertain.

And yet one truth rings clear amidst all else: this female belongs by my side.

odette

. . .

“My name is Valek Villainous,and I’m your mate.” The infamous brother of the King of Demons sweeps me off my feet and slings me over his broad shoulder. Before I can address his strange declaration, he marches toward the exit, his gravelly voice calm but urgent. “Please, don’t be frightened. I am incapable of harming you. Destiny has decreed our union, and fate has granted me my fondest wish.” His words are edged with a hint of danger, his powerful presence radiating from every inch of his being. As we move through the dimly lit corridor, the air grows heavy, filling me with a palpable mix of fear and excitement—too much to think clearly.

“I don’t have a mate, Valek,” I protest, my heart racing in my chest.

His arms tighten around me, and the heat from his body seeps through my clothes. My blood boils with an intense desire to strike him down for his insolence, to turn him into a lowly toad beneath my feet. But amidst the anger, a flicker of excitement dances within me. Adrenaline courses through my veins, urging me to keep playing this game as long as I can bear it or until I figure out how to turn him down.

“Put me down this instant. Even if I am who or what you believe I am, this is not how you should do it.” Although my body still tingles at his touch, this is not the impression I want to make on my new clients, pressed against this rugged male in the middle of my morning rush. I have a reputation to maintain.

Valek sets me down with a sheepish grin as if he'd only just realized that his display of hypermasculinity might not be well-received. "Apologies," he says, his voice a rich baritone that seems to rumble straight into my bones. "Old habits die hard. But let's start anew, shall we?"

I study Valek for a moment and my initial irritation transforms into amusement. Here is a male—or rather, an ancient demon—who is used to being in control and having others bend to his will. And yet, there is something oddly endearing about him, a sincerity that can’t be faked.

"Very well," I reply, extending my hand as if we were at a formal gathering rather than in a crowded hallway adjacent to the restrooms. "I'm Odette."

"Valek," he says again, then gently takes my hand. His touch sends shivers up my spine—not of fear, but an unexpected thrill.

"So, Valek," I begin, drawing back my hand and putting a bit of distance between us. "You seem to have decided that I'm your 'mate.' Care to explain why you’d say something so outlandish? Witches are not bound by fate. We can reject our mates and choose our own life partners.”

Valek looks immediately taken aback, seemingly confused that I’m not taking his word for it. "It means that everything changed for me the moment I scented you. You became the center of my universe. My everything." He pauses, then searches my face for any sign of reciprocation.

“Do you realize how insane that sounds? Some people may experience instant attraction, but that doesn’t mean fate has chosen them for one another. I was raised to believe in it butdespite the folklore and those who swear it’s true, I believe in a more practical way of mating," I say, half joking, but also curiously piqued by his intense declaration.

Valek chuckles—a sound that seems too light for his imposing frame—and nods. "Earlier today, I didn’t believe in fate either. Demons rarely find their mate. But now I know how foolish I’ve been. Finding you is the single most significant event of my life. It feels like I’ve found the other half of my soul."

I feel an unfamiliar warmth blossom in my chest. The idea is ludicrous, fantastical even, and yet…my beloved niece recently found her fated mate, a bloodthirsty vampire who stole her heart the moment they met. How she described the primal urge, the visceral calling that overtook her senses, sounded impossible at the time. But now that I’m here, standing before Valek, something about her words rings true.

Is it possible that this male—no, this demon—is somehow meant to be the love of my life? Is Valek Villainous fate’s gift to me? The logical part of me wants to deny the possibility, but I can’t ignore the intense physical attraction I feel.

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