A heavenly essence. Something bright that slid through my senses and settled low in my chest like a promise I had never been meant to keep. My demon surged in response, not in hunger but in something dangerously close to worship, and thatalone nearly shattered my control. An obsession growling like soul weed and flowering like a blood rose.
I tipped the vial.
The smallest drop touched my tongue.
And my world fucking changed!
Power tore through me, violent and exquisite, threading itself through bone and flesh…through demon and Fae alike.It was not a surge meant to overwhelm but a binding, precise and undeniable, locking into place with the finality of a judgment rendered.
Electus.
The word burned itself into my consciousness. My Chosen One. My Fated Mate.
There was no mistaking it now. No illusion. No interference. No goddamn doubt!
Eliza Shadowmere was mine.
15
WHEN THE FLY WELCOMES THE SPIDER
ELIZA
Ididn’t know why I was back inside the club.
Didn’t know what would ever possess me to return. Well, that wasn’t exactly true, as I knew one insane reason I would sneak back in here, and he had a name.
Wyedari Oblivion.
Veneficus stretched out before me in all its dark, seductive opulence, the low pulse of music vibrating through the building. The air was thick with heat, with danger, and something far heavier than fear…
It was desire.
The low lights glowed an ominous red, casting everything in shadowed, gothic luxury, and for a moment, I simply stood there, locked like a deer caught in headlights.
But then came a sound. An intimate whisper brushing against my thoughts like a breath against my skin. My name wasn’t spoken, yet I knew it was meant for me. The low murmur curling inward rather than outward, warm and coaxing. One threaded with quiet authority.
‘Come closer, little one.’The words were not a demand, but an invitation wrapped in inevitability. As if there was no doubt that I would comply. The alluring voice settled into my chest and loosened something there, easing the tension and anxiety from my limbs. Although the fear didn’t vanish completely. No, it softened and blurred at the edges. It reshaped into something heavier, something far more dangerous. Until standing still felt impossible, like resisting gravity itself.
So, I started walking.
I didn’t question why or where I was going because some part of me already knew. The path opened ahead of me as if the club itself was guiding my steps. A room full of bodies parting without resistance, faces turning toward me as I passed. I could hear their laughter, their murmured conversations. The clink of glasses and soft sway of bodies. Yet all of it felt distant, muted, like sound heard underwater. My attention was pulled forward irresistibly toward the raised platform at the far end of the room.
Toward…
Oblivion’s throne.
The dark and demonic chair waited for me beneath the glow of a shifting light. Its imposing carved frame was beautiful in a way that made my stomach twist. But it was nothing compared to the masterful figure who commanded its space.
Hell’s judge and executioner.
He was exactly as he had appeared the night before, massive and composed. One arm resting against the throne as if it were an extension of his body. His gaze fixed on me with quiet, devastating certainty. His startling eyes caught the light like a blade just drawn, dangerous in a way that made my breath hitch. When his gaze met mine, the reaction was instant, a quiet tug low in my belly that I hadn’t been prepared for. A command that did not need words, but he added them anyway.
“Closer now.”A smooth and rich tone slipped through the noise of the club and settled directly inside my head. It wasn’t loud, wasn’t forceful, but it wrapped around my thoughts all the same. It was spellbinding, coaxing, threaded with something that made my pulse stumble.
I took another step and then another.
But that was when the image ahead of me flickered.
