Page 25 of Sins of the Succubus

With a wink, I vanish, leaving Neela alone with her thoughts and the carnage we've wrought.

15

NEELA

"What's happening to me?" I ask, gazing out the window at the waning moons.

The room still echoes with the silence that followed Dremlor's sudden departure and the subsequent shattering of his spell. I can almost hear the thudding of a dozen hearts as the patrons and staff of the bar came undone, their minds unraveling at the sight of those frozen tax collectors and the gruesome tableau that was left in our wake. My husband's face, a mask of shock and fear, is etched into my memory—a portrait of a man who has realized, too late, that he no longer holds all the power.

I'm lost in these thoughts, perched on the edge of my bed, when a familiar, otherworldly chill prickles the air. My breath hitches as Dremlor materializes before me, his form coalescing from the shadows. Even after all we've been through, the sight of him—all stark angles and burning eyes—stirs something deep within me. His true demonic visage, so fearsome and free, is a testament to his unwavering confidence and the strength that drew me to him in the first place.

"You're late," I say, my tone light, but there's an undercurrent of concern that I can't quite mask.

Dremlor's lips quirk into a half-smile, an acknowledgment of my attempt at humor. "Time is a fickle thing, my dear. It bends to my will."

Dremlor walks over and sits on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. Without hesitation, I go to him, curling up in his arms and resting against his chest. His embrace is stiff at first, unfamiliar with such tender contact, but after a moment, his muscles relax and he pulls me closer.

I can't remember the last time I felt someone's affectionate hold. Not since my mother was alive. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut, and I find myself clinging to Dremlor, drinking in his warmth.

"This is... new," I murmur, my voice muffled against his chest.

Dremlor's chuckle rumbles through me. "For both of us, it seems."

I tilt my head up to look at him. "Demons don't cuddle?"

"Not typically, no," he says, his fiery gaze meeting mine. "We're more inclined to rip and tear."

"Sounds lonely," I say, surprised by the pang of sympathy I feel.

His arms tighten around me. "Perhaps. But loneliness is a mortal concern."

I snort. "Sure it is.."

Dremlor's silence speaks volumes. I settle back against him, savoring the moment. It's been so long since I've felt safe, protected. Even if it's in the arms of a demon.

"I'm tired, Dremlor," I confess, my voice barely above a whisper. The weight of my existence, the relentless struggle for survival and agency, presses down on me like a physical force.

His hand moves to stroke my hair, the gesture surprisingly gentle. "Sleep, my dear Neela."

I close my eyes, letting his touch soothe me. "Sleep can't fix this kind of exhaustion," I confess in a sigh.

He pauses with thought. "Is it a mortal tiredness?"

Again, I heave a sigh. "Perhaps."

I sigh deeply, the weight of my existence pressing down on me. "Dremlor, I'm... I'm so burned out. Life's been such a relentless struggle that I've lost the ability to care about right and wrong anymore. Everything's just... gray."

Dremlor's fiery gaze softens as he listens. His hand, usually an instrument of destruction, gently cups my face. "Neela," he says, his voice uncharacteristically tender.

To my surprise, he leans in and kisses me. It's not the fierce, demanding kiss I'd expect from a demon, but something softer, almost... comforting. When he pulls away, I'm left breathless and confused.

"What was that for?" I whisper.

His lips twitch into an almost smile. "Just because."

I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It's strange, feeling safe in the arms of a being I once would have feared. This demon, capable of such violence and destruction, treats me with a kindness I've never known.

As I close my eyes, savoring this moment of peace, a realization hits me. Am I falling in love with Dremlor?

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