Ramona gripped Zara’s hips, her thumb digging into the soft dip of her waist to hold her steady. She was methodical, her tongue tracing the heat of Zara’s center with a persistence that bordered on worship. Every time Zara bucked, her heels digging into the mattress, Ramona pressed closer, drinking in the low, guttural moans that were starting to sound less and less human.
The air in the room felt charged, static raising the fine hairs on Ramona’s arms. She could feel dark magic bleeding out of Zara, a wild, unrefined energy that tasted like smoke on the back of her throat. She quickened her pace, her tongue swirling in a demanding rhythm that forced Zara’s breath into short, sharp hitches.
“Ramona —please,” Zara choked out, her fingers curling into useless claws against the wooden slats.
Ramona didn’t let up. She pushed Zara further, her movements becoming more urgent as she felt the demon’s internal fire reach a breaking point. The tether above them began to hum a high, piercing frequency, the light turning molten.
With one final, desperate surge, Zara’s back arched completely off the bed. A low, vibrating growl erupted from her chest — a sound of pure, celestial ruin — as she shattered.
At the same time, the bed shattered, too, the spindles of the headboard splintering around the tether, the frame crashing to the floor. Ramona gasped, holding onto Zara’s body, but Zara hardly seemed to notice, slumped back against the pillows, her breath coming in ragged, uneven sobs.
Ramona stayed where she was for a moment, her forehead resting against the curve of Zara’s thigh, listening to the frantic, irregular thrum of a heart that beat much faster than a mortal’s.
Slowly, Ramona looked up. Zara’s eyes were heavy. She looked utterly undone.
Ramona moved to gently undo Zara’s ties, rubbing the demon’s wrists to make sure they weren’t too sore from tugging against their restraints. The golden tether lay draped across them like a discarded ribbon, pulsing with a slow, contented light.
“I think… I think the roommates heard that,” Ramona said in a breathless whisper.
Zara, her face buried in the crook of Ramona’s neck, let out a low laugh that vibrated through Ramona’s entire body. “Let them listen. I’ll charge them a consulting fee for the education.”
“You broke my bed,” Ramona said with a laugh.
“Webroke the bed. I believe you had a hand in it,” Zara panted, a wry smile on the edge of her mouth. “Or at least a ton?—”
“Zara,” Ramona scolded, her cheeks heating. She threw an arm over her eyes in embarrassment but couldn’t help laughing anyway. Even after Zara had waved a hand and transformed the wreckage into a sturdy frame with a wooden spindle headboard.
After a quiet moment, Ramona ran her fingers through Zara’s hair. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything, Mortal.”
“Is this…” She gestured vaguely between them. “The energy. The pull. Is it just the binding? The false connection Theron mentioned?”
Zara went still beside her. Then she propped herself up on one elbow, studying Ramona’s face with that an intensity that made Ramona want to hide and be seen all at once.
“I don’t know,” Zara said finally.
“You don’t know?” The disappointment bled through before Ramona could stop it. She’d expected… something. Certainty. Denial. Not this.
“I think many things can be true at once.” Zara’s thumb traced idle patterns on Ramona’s shoulder. “I think the binding influences how we feel. I think we have four weeks left together. I think that means we should enjoy this without worrying about what it all means.”
Rationally, Ramona knew she was right. Whatever this was between them had an expiration date. Zara would go back to Hell. Ramona would go back to selling crystals to tourists who thought sage could fix their problems. And she’d never knowfor certain if this desperate, consuming thing between them was real or just magical coercion with good marketing.
Who was she kidding? Did she really think a corporate demon was her soulmate?
The thought was so absurd she almost laughed. Almost.
“Hey.” Zara’s voice dropped lower. Softer. “Talk to me. I can feel your distress through the tether.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Ramona.”
Zara’s hand slid along her jaw, turning her face with gentle insistence. Her thumb brushed over Ramona’s bottom lip, and every uncomfortable feeling churning inside Ramona’s chest softened at the edges. Not gone. Just… quieter.
Zara leaned down until their foreheads touched. Close enough that Ramona could feel her breath.
“I’m here,” Zara whispered. “Right now. In this moment. And I very much enjoy being with you.” Her thumb continued its slow trace across Ramona’s mouth. “I think you might enjoy it, too. And if it’s the tether — if it’s all just magical compulsion and proximity and coincidence…” She pulled back just enough to catch Ramona’s eyes. “Who cares? It doesn’t make this feel less real to me.”
