Page 4 of Demon Seed

Frightened, I crouch behind a fallen tree trunk, peering through a curtain of ferns toward the source of the firelight. The scene that unfolds before me steals what little breath I have left.

A demon stands in a small clearing, his back to me, arms raised toward the star-scattered sky. The firelight dances across his bare skin, illuminating the intricate crimson markings that identify him as royalty among his kind. Through the branches, I glimpse him. Broad-shouldered with dark wings furled neatly on his back. His face is all angles in the moonlight, with a stubbled jaw and watchful eyes. He speaks to someone nearby, insisting they go no farther, and his deep guttural voice kindles a maddening heat within me.

I bite my lip until I taste blood, fighting the urge to call out to him. My body trembles with need, with recognition. Every instinct tells me to go to him, present myself, and claim what some ancient part of me insists is mine.

A twig snaps beneath my weight as I shift position, and he cuts his words abruptly. The demon turns, his eyes scanning the darkness, and for one heart-stopping moment, our gazes lock.

As the wind shifts, carrying my scent toward him, he stiffens. His head lifts, nostrils flaring slightly.

And I know, with absolute certainty, that I’ve been discovered.

He’s nothing like I imagined demons would be. Tall and muscular, with tattooed skin that seems to absorb dim light rather than reflect it. Dark hair falls across his forehead, and when he turns—as if sensing my presence—his eyes catch mine across the distance.

Gold. His eyes are molten gold.

My knees nearly buckle, and the silver markings on my skin flare bright enough to give me away completely. A soft gasp escapes my lips as the first true wave of heat crashes through me.

It’s him.

“Who are you?” the demon calls, his voice like smoke and honey.

I can’t speak or barely breathe. The heat of my unexpected fertility rises with cruel timing, flooding my senses until I have to dig my nails into the tree bark to keep from rushing toward him.

His nostrils flare slightly. He knows.

“My name is Vesper,” he says, and my soul recognizes him as my fated mate. But that’s impossible. How could the gods bind me to such a vile creature? “And I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I’m Selene.”

Vesper

Iwatch her back away, the pulse in her throat fluttering like a trapped bird. Her name echoes in my mind—Selene—ancient and powerful as moonlight itself.

"I should go," Selene murmurs, but her body defies her words. Her lips part slightly and I feel her grow closer, even as her feet slowly retreat, crafting a tantalizing contradiction that sends a heated rush through my veins.

"Should you?" I ask, my voice thick with desire. The space between us crackles, pulsating with raw, untapped potential.

She closes her eyes briefly, a slight furrow appearing between her brows. "You don't understand. This isn't… normal. What I'm feeling—" She stops and swallows hard, her breath catching in her throat. "We've only just met."

I take a step closer, unable to help myself. The pull toward her is undeniable, like gravity itself reconfiguring to her slender, tempting form. "Does it feel like we've just met?"

Selene’s eyes widen, pupils dilating until only a thin ring of blue remains, a sign of her arousal. "No," she admits breathlessly. "It feels like?—"

"Like recognition," I finish for her as the air between us crackles with electric tension. The words hang between us,inadequate yet somehow perfect. My fingertips tingle with the need to touch her, to confirm she's real and not a fever dream my lonely mind has conjured.

Selene pushes her palms firmly against the rough bark of the tree behind her, trying to steady herself. "I don't do this," she whispers, as if convincing herself more than speaking to me. "I don't feel this."

"Neither do I." The words spill out, honest and raw. Whatever this connection is, it's unlike anything I've known before—powerful and intense.

When her eyes lock onto mine again, there's a change—a blend of surrender, longing, and a burning desire swirling in those captivating depths.

"Vesper.” The sound of my name on her tongue feels like a sultry invitation—at least in my lust-addled mind.

And I know, with the same certainty that pulses through my veins, that resisting this would be as futile as battling the relentless tide.

I've dominated the demon realm for eons, crushed legions beneath my will, and made even the undying shiver with just a whisper of my name. Yet here I am, immobilized between two towering oaks, devouring her with my gaze as though she's a forbidden apparition from a realm beyond.

Perhaps she is.

---