Page 23 of Sins of the Succubus

"I'm not on the menu," I snap, my voice sharper than intended. The words come out with a force that surprises even me, and for a moment, I see uncertainty flicker in their eyes.

The first elf stands, towering over me. His bulk casts a shadow, and the stench of ale on his breath makes me want to gag. "Everything's for sale in this shithole, darling. Including you." His words are a grim reminder of the reality I've lived with for far too long.

"Back off," I warn, but my voice trembles slightly. I hate the weakness in my tone, but I can't help it. Years of abuse and degradation have left their mark, and old habits die hard.

"Or what?" He reaches out, his fingers brushing my arm. The touch sends a jolt of revulsion through me, and I feel something stir deep inside – a power I don't yet understand, but one that's begging to be unleashed.

Just as the situation grows tense, a chill sweeps through the bar. The dark elves freeze, their eyes widening in terror. I feel a presence materialize beside me, powerful and familiar. Dremlor stands there in his true form, his eyes blazing with otherworldly fire.

"Dremlor," I breathe, relief washing over me. "I wasn't sure if you heard?—"

He cuts me off with a gentle touch on my arm. "I always hear you, Neela. You never leave my sight."

The dark elves scramble back, nearly falling over themselves in their haste to retreat. Dremlor's lips curl into a predatory smile.

"You seem concerned, gentlemen," he says, his voice low and menacing. "Perhaps you'd like to rephrase your offer to the lady?"

I can't help but smirk at their fear. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongues?"

Dremlor chuckles, the sound sending shivers down my spine. It's a deep, resonant laugh that seems to vibrate through the air itself, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

"I believe they've lost their appetite for trouble, my dear," he says, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Perhaps they've finally learned not to play with fire."

I turn to him, my voice dropping to a whisper. My heart's still racing from the confrontation, and I realize that I haven't quite shaken the fear that's been my constant companion for so long. "I was worried you might not have heard them say the phrase. That you wouldn't come. I... I don't know what I would've done if..."

His eyes soften as he looks at me, and for a moment, I see something in them that almost looks like tenderness. It's strange, seeing such an emotion in the eyes of a demon.

"Neela," he says, his voice gentler than I've ever heard it, "I made you a promise. I'm always listening, always watching. Nothing in this world or any other will harm you while I draw breath."

"Even when you're not here?" I ask, still uncertain. It seems too good to be true, this safety he's offering. After years of abuse and neglect, the idea of someone actually caring about my wellbeing is almost foreign.

He nods, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Especially when I'm not here. Did you think I'd leave you vulnerable? My power extends far beyond what you can see, Neela. I have eyes and ears everywhere."

I feel a warmth spread through my chest at his words, a feeling so unfamiliar it almost hurts. Someone... is watching over me. Demon or not, Dremlor has shown me more kindness in these few moments than I've known in years.

His gaze sweeps the bar, and the remaining patrons quickly avert their eyes. "Now," he says, turning back to me, "shall we deal with these miscreants?"

14

DREMLOR

The bar is a cacophony of fear and desperation, the air thick with the scent of panic as I cast the spell that freezes time for all but the succubus and her prey. The dark elves, cloaked in the garb of tax collectors, cower before us, their faces a mask of terror as they recognize the full extent of their predicament. I can't help but savor their fear, feeling it pulse through the room like a living thing.

"P-please," one of them stammers, his eyes darting between Neela and me. "We didn't know—we were just having a laugh." His voice cracks, and I can smell the sweat beading on his forehead.

"Yes, yes! We were simply joking, coming in for a drink before we get back to work!" another chimes in, his words tumbling out in a desperate rush.

I glance at Neela, her beauty sharpened by the darkness she's embraced. Her eyes, feline and piercing, reflect a cold detachment that sends a thrill through me. She's a vision of lethal grace, her slender figure poised like a predator ready to strike. The power radiating from her is intoxicating, and I findmyself drawn to her even more than before. The transformation in her is evident, and it's fucking magnificent to behold.

"Beg," she purrs, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Beg like your life depends on it. Perhaps my demon companion will take pity on you."

Their pleas fill the room, a symphony of terror that hardens my resolve. These mortals, with their greed and cruelty, have exploited and tormented Neela for far too long. Their fate is a foregone conclusion, yet I find a sick enjoyment in their groveling.

The air is thick with the stench of their fear, a scent that intoxicates me, fueling my demonic nature. I can feel the power coursing through my veins, my true form itching to break free from this dark elf disguise. Each whimper, each desperate cry for mercy, only serves to remind me of the countless ways Neela has suffered at their hands.

It's almost poetic, this reversal of fortunes, and I savor every moment of their despair.

"Oh, Dremlor," Neela says, turning to me with an air of dark amusement. Her eyes glitter with a newfound malice that sends a thrill through my demonic core. "Look at them, so desperate for mercy. It's almost... entertaining."

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