His To Use: Seduced By The Incubus

The Deal

Three

SELVIK VOSS

I took a slow sip from my glass, the burn settling in my chest. The rooftop bar was loud with music, laughter, clinking glasses, but I wasn’t really hearing any of it. I already knew she would come.

I purposely stopped my car earlier, so she'll tail me. And she did.

At the entrance, she stood there scanning, and searching for me obviously. She look angry and also somehow scared. Our eyes met across the crowd, and I couldn’t help the small scoff that left my lips. She had tracked me down here. Persistent.

I lifted my glass toward her in a lazy toast. Her jaw clenched, and she started pushing her way through the crowd, her eyes never leaving me.

When she stopped in front of me, her voice was loud. “You think this is funny?”

I tilted my head, smirk tugging at my lips. “Persistent.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Do you have some kind of skin disease or something?”

I chuckled, taking another sip. “Mouthy.”

She leaned closer, her voice dropping low. “What did you do to me? My face... this isn’t normal. You… you did something.”

I let my eyes roam over her, slow, and unbothered, making her squirm. Her body was tense, but damn, the way she looked… tight black dress, hair falling wild. I let the word slip out softly. “Hot.”

Her lips parted like she didn’t know whether to slap me or scream. I set my glass down and stood. “Follow me.”

She hesitated but moved when I started walking. She didn’t have a choice. I led her out from the crowd, past the bar, down the quiet hallway until the noise faded. Less eyes, less ears.

I turned and leaned against the wall, watching her. She crossed her arms, defensive. “Talk. What the hell is happening to me?”

I let the silence drag a moment, just to watch her fidget. Then I spoke. “The scabies will spread. Unless you accept my help.”

Her eyes widened. She touched her cheek, her nails almost digging into her skin. “How? How the hell do you know that? What did you do to me? What are you?”

I shrugged like it was nothing. “That’s not the question. The real question is... do you want my help or not?”

She glared at me, shaking her head. “You’re insane. You can’t be serious. You’re the one doing this to me, and now you’re offering to cure it? That’s twisted.”

I pushed off the wall, closing the space between us. She backed up a step, her breathing quick. I leaned down, my voice close to her ear. “Okay. Maybe I’ll just visit you again in your dreams.”

She froze, her eyes snapping up to me. Shock filled her face. She wasn’t good at hiding it. That reaction told me everything.

“You…” her voice shook, “you were in my dreams for real.”

I smirked, watching her crumble, confusion and fear battling on her face. She didn’t know what to believe. She didn’t know me at all... but she was starting to realize I wasn’t someone she could just dismiss.

Her hands trembled as she touched her cheek again, her eyes darting to mine. “Who the hell are you?” she whispered, her voice breaking slowly. “And how do I know you can actually cure my face?”

I told her to take off her facemask. She hesitated for a second, her fingers trembling, then she pulled it down. The scars and scabs on her face looked freshly carved into her skin. I snapped my fingers, a little click in the air, and told her, “Look at your face now.”

She fumbled for her phone, used the screen as a mirror. Her eyes widened, and her lips parting. The ugly scabs were gone. Smooth, clear skin glowed back at her. She looked like the girl she used to be. The shock she was having made her freeze. I snapped again, and just like that, the scars appeared back on her face.

Her face twisted in anger. “What the hell... are you playing games with me? If you can fix it, then do it. For free.”

I smirked. “Nothing in this world comes free. Everything has a price.”

Her whole body stiffened, and her shoulders pulling up as if bracing against me. I could feel her rage rolling off her, but beneath it was something else... fear, curiosity, desperation. Her hands balled into fists, pressing against her thighs like she needed to stop herself from shaking.

I leaned in close, close enough that my breath brushed her ear. Her body shivered even though she tried to stand firm. “Two months,” I whispered. “No questions. No refusals. Your body... mine to use, as I wish.”

Her head snapped toward me, with her eyes wide. “Are you insane? You think I’ll sell myself for this?”

I shrugged. “You came here looking for a miracle. Miracles cost more than money. You want your face? You give me what I want.”

Her jaw tightened, she spat back, “You’re disgusting. I’d rather rot with scars than let you touch me.”

But right then, the burn flared across her cheek. She hissed, clutching her face like fire was crawling under her skin. I didn’t move, I just watched her struggle.

She glared at me through the pain. “You bastard. Did you do this?”

I tilted my head, amused. “Maybe it’s the universe telling you the price can’t be avoided. Fight it if you want. But you’ll come back.”

Her breathing turned rough, angry. “You’re arrogant. You think I’ll run back to you begging? Dream on.”

“Then prove me wrong,” I said, slipping a black card from my pocket and holding it out. “My number. Call me… when your pride finally loses to pain.”

She stared at the card angrily. But her hand still shot out, snatching it from me. She shoved it into her bag.

“Keep dreaming, Selvik Voss,” she snapped, spinning on her heel. She stormed out, anger in every step, her back stiff like she was holding herself together by force.

But I let her go.

When I returned to my mansion, the night felt quiet. I stripped off my clothes, let the hot water wash over me in the bath, the steam fogging the mirrors. Her face kept flashing in my head... her defiance, her fear.

By the time I stepped into my bedroom, the clock struck two. My phone buzzed on the nightstand. One new message from Zyrella Hart, and my lips curved.

The text read: "I’ll do it."