He'stooclose, an array of scents assault my nostrils—smoke. Pine and sandalwood. Cold winter air mixed with scorch. The scent hits me like a memory I’ve never had. He leans down, voice a low warning rumble. “You shouldn’t have called me, Piper Bellamy.”
“I didn’t call—”
“Because now,” he murmurs, “I’m bound to you.”
Bound… wait.Bound?! My heartbeat stops. Then races. Then vaults out of my ribcage entirely. “No,” I whisper. “No, no, no—absolutely not. You are not bound to me. I do not have a demon. I barely have time for a cat.”
He smirks. “You didthis.”
“I DID NOT—”
“You summoned me with emotion instead of ritual. That’s a bond invocation.” His grin is devastating. “You didn’t just summon any demon, witch.”
He leans in, close enough that his breath ghosts across my lips. “You summonedme.”
Chapter 2
Slade
Most summons feel like hooks. Violent. Abrupt. A yank through realms that tears the soul sideways. This one?
It felt like fingers sinking into my chest. Warm. Emotional.Toointimate.
I should’ve ignored it. And I usually do. But something in it—something sharp and bright and stubborn—sank deep.
Then the circle opened, the flames parted, and I stepped into a cramped little witch shop lit by twinkle lights and scented with dried herbs and panic. Andher—Piper Bellamy. Sitting there in jeans hugging thick thighs, curls wild around her head, chest rising in quick, furious breaths. A pendant glows at her neck—Amethyst, maybe?—and crescent-shaped moon earrings dangle from her ears. Blue eyes like frost and fire all at once. A body soft in ways I shouldn’t immediately notice.
Yet I do…Unfortunately.
She looks at me like I’m a home invasion.Fuck. I don’t get bound, or summoned by accident. And I certainly don’t get dragged through realms by witches who look like sin wrapped in sarcasm. But here we are.
She’s ranting now—hands flying, curls bouncing, chest heaving—and the more she spirals, themore I feel the bond tightening around my ribs. Annoying… Intriguing…Dangerous. “What are you staring at?” she snaps.
“You.”
Her breath stutters. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
I step closer. Deliberately. Slowly. Her back hits the counter with a satisfying little gasp. “Stop looming,” she demands, shoving weakly at my chest.
I let her shove me. She might as well punch a wall made of iron. A heated, amused spark crawls through me. “I’m not looming,” I say. “This is just how tall I am.”
“You’re doing it on purpose.”
I smirk. “Maybe.”
She crosses her arms, trying to look intimidating. It only draws my eyes to her breasts. I drag my gaze back to her face before she notices. Barely. “Why are you here?” she demands.
“I could ask you the same question.”
“I LIVE here.”
“And I don’t,” I counter. “Yet you dragged me into your realm anyway.”
Her jaw drops. “I didn’t drag anyone!”
I step closer. Close enough to feel her breath. Close enough to see panic spark in those blue eyes. I lift my hand slowly. Her lips part—and I wrap my hand around her throat.
