The Devil's Bargain
892 Words
Luna awoke on cold stone, breath sharp in her lungs, the copper tang of blood still on her tongue.
The candles had gone out.
Her ritual circle was now just a memory—a smear of ash and ancient runes blown apart like dust after a storm. The air crackled with residual energy, but it wasn’t her magic anymore. It was something older. Wilder.
Hellborn.
She sat up slowly, her limbs heavy, heart thrumming like a war drum. Her palm was still marked, the center of it burned black where his lips had touched.
A kiss that had etched itself into her soul.
You summoned the Devil, Luna Vale.
Now you belong to me.
She swallowed hard.
No. I don’t belong to anyone.
Her eyes darted to the shadows in the corner of the room—because she felt him before she saw him.
He was there.
Perched lazily on the edge of her ritual altar like a serpent lounging on stone. Draken. Unbothered. Half in darkness, half lit by the dull red glow of the eclipse still lingering in the sky.
“Sleep well?” he asked, voice like wine and sin. “Your body needed rest. The first marking always takes more than you expect.”
Luna rose to her feet, drawing her robe tight around her. Her hands trembled only slightly.
“You weren’t invited to stay.”
He chuckled, low and slow. “Neither was your desire. But here we are.”
“I’m sending you back.”
“Try,” he said, smiling. “I’ll even let you.”
She bristled. She wasn’t some novice witch stumbling through incantations. She was High Priestess of the Eclipse Coven, born with blood rites in her veins, chosen by the Moon to command light and shadow.
She began the banishment chant—forceful, furious.
“In the name of the veiled ones, I sever this link—”
“—And cast thee back to fire, to ash, to—”
“Blah, blah, blah,” Draken said, waving a clawed hand in mock boredom.
The runes glowed faintly... then flickered. Died.
Luna’s breath caught.
He stood, in one smooth, fluid motion. Closer now. Too close.
“You’re powerful, Luna,” he said, voice low. “But that ritual was never meant to banish something like me. You called with craving, not purity. You used blood not just for summoning, but for surrender.”
“I didn’t surrender anything,” she hissed.
“Oh?” he tilted his head. “Then why are you still wet with magic that smells like longing?”
Her cheeks burned, but she held her ground. “What do you want from me?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he stepped forward, his hand brushing her jaw—fingertips cool, almost reverent.
“I should want your soul,” he said softly. “But I don’t. I want you. Whole. Wounded. Witch and woman.”
“For what? To torment?”
“To tempt,” he said, lips just inches from hers. “To watch you become what you were always meant to be.”
She willed herself not to lean in.
He smiled wider.
“You feel it already, don’t you? The shift inside you. The hunger. Your magic has tasted mine. And now it won’t be satisfied with spells and herbs and chants. It will only answer me.”
“No,” she said—too quickly. “I’m in control.”
“You were,” he agreed. “But now… we share that control.”
Luna’s breathing quickened.
Every word he said was poison and poetry. She knew she should cast him out, find a way to sever the tether, cleanse herself before the coven sensed what she had done.
But her body remembered his touch. Her magic remembered his fire.
“Then let’s make a deal,” she said, eyes narrowing. “A true one. Terms. Boundaries.”
His smile twisted into something far more dangerous. “Ah. Now you’re speaking my language.”
He extended his hand, claws retracting into a perfectly sculpted palm. “What are your terms, High Priestess?”
“You don’t touch me again without permission.”
“Reasonable,” he said. “For now.”
“You don’t interfere with my coven.”
“Done.”
“And I’ll allow your presence, temporarily, only to learn how to undo the mark you left.”
He paused. Then nodded, slowly.
“And my terms?”
She stiffened. “What are they?”
“You don’t lie to yourself about what you want.”
He stepped back, shadows curling around his shoulders like a cloak.
“If I feel a single false command—if I sense denial when your magic begs for surrender—I will remind you what desire really is. No more pretending, Luna. Not with me.”
She swallowed hard.
“Deal.”
Their hands clasped.
Power surged between them. A flash of red light and heat pulsed in the air. Magic sealed the pact.
The Devil’s Bargain.
“Sleep while you can,” he said, already fading into shadow. “You’ll crave me by morning.”
He vanished.
And Luna stood alone in her broken circle, the weight of darkness humming in her veins, knowing—some part of her already did.
- Writer
