by Cori Vidae
Was she part demon?
The pendant had been the final ingredient she’d needed. Her eyes had bulged when she saw a sketch of it in one of the library’s long-forgotten books.
“Celeste,” Santorava said. His voice was like thunder, rolling across the green grasslands of Celeste’s homeland.
“Hello,” she said, shifting awkwardly. She tried not to wince. ‘Hello’ was the best she could manage?
“I thought we agreed summoning me again would be dangerous for you,” Santorava said. “You could be caught.”
“I know I could be, but…” Celeste tried not lean toward Santorava’s warmth. “I found the pearl. It’s been in my family for generations. Will you tell me about it?”
The demon lord’s face hardened, and for a moment Celeste thought she’d pushed too far. “I am glad you found the pearl. But you ask too much.”
“I know,” Celeste said. “It has to do with Cheveyna, doesn’t it?”
Santorava’s gaze grew distant, peering beyond Celeste into the shadows and years beyond her, then to the pendant in his hand. “It does. To know Cheveyna’s story is to know Kraal itself. It is to know the pain of all my people.”
Celeste suppressed a shudder. People, he called them. They weren’t people. They were demons. Yet here she stood, in a secluded laboratory in the Glandel, trying not to visibly shudder in the aura of his beauty. There was humanity in those burning golden eyes as they remembered a time long past.
“Over a thousand years ago, by your world’s reckoning, Kraal was a land of fiery beauty and light. Our sun rose and fell as yours does, bringing balance to the cycle of life. By day, our world was full of warmth and laughter. We built grand cities that stretched to the heavens, catching the sun’s luminance in such a way to make even the most hardened Enfijjit pause and stare with wonder. And by night…”
Santorava paused and swallowed hard. Celeste resisted the urge to rest her hand on his arm. She meant to comfort him, but she also wanted to stroke those muscles, wrap herself within those hard, burning limbs.
“By night,” Santorava continued, holding out his arms to stare at the thin sheen of fire coursing over them, “as our red sun set, and the matching blood moon rose, our sacravella—our skin fire—would extinguish, leaving us cold and on the verge of death. A demon needs fire to live, and at night, without the sun, we fade away, like a torch in your world snuffed out.
“So—so how did you survive the nights?” Celeste managed.
“The devanas,” Santorava said, his voice full of awe. “They were our salvation, and our grace. Their sacravella ignited under moonlight, and so every night, to survive, we demons would find solace in their arms. They held us, guarded us, and kept us alive. By day we would do the same for them, when the sun burned away their moonlit sacravella. But at dawn and dusk, when sun and moon mingled equally in the sky, our fires would burn the brightest, and our lovemaking ignited all of Kraal.”
Celeste concealed a shuddering exhale. “And—and who was Cheveyna, then?” she said, cursing her stuttering nerves. She doubted Erina ever fumbled this much around Alesto.
Santorava finally turned his stare on Celeste. The powerful, unwavering gaze of his golden eyes consumed her. Instinct screamed to look away, but she forced herself to hold his stare. She would not cower before this man.
“Cheveyna was my limeni. My devana. My wife.”
“Oh,” Celeste said. “I didn’t realize… What happened to her?”
“She was the queen of our people. The most beautiful devana to ever grace Kraal. No other night beauty was as beloved as she. I loved her more than the grandest sunrise, more than the most sacred jewels of the Pearl Mountains. She was summoned, by a human Servicer, to this world. This was not an uncommon occurrence. Humans and Demonkin have long held to the old alliances. The rituals you called me with were once performed on a regular basis. Servicer and Demon would work together toward mutual understanding and benefit.
“One night, Cheveyna was summoned to this world. But the Servicer had other intentions. He trapped her, hoping to gain fame for his ability to tame a demon. She raged against his shackles, but he had taken every precaution to immunize against her assaults. He kept her until sunrise, at which point her sacravella extinguished, and she perished.”
“By the gods,” Celeste whispered.
“I ignited at that moment to a changed world. As the Lord of Kraal, I am tied to the sun, and Cheveyna, as its Lady, to the moon. With her passing, the very realm of Kraal changed. The sun never sets, and we have not seen the moon rise since the day she extinguished. She was only the first devana lost. The rest—deprived of the moon—all died when the moon failed to rise. Kraal is now a stale world of demons, lacking the grace and beauty that our lost devanas once brought.”
Silence filled the lab. Tears stung the corners of Celeste’s eyes.
“Forgive me,” Celeste said. “I did not know.”
“You cannot be blamed for ignorance.” Santorava dropped his gaze to the pendant cradled in his palm. “Her soul wanders this plane, now. Someday, I shall find her, and perhaps the moon shall rise again.”
“And the necklace…” Celeste looked at it. “Can it help you?”
Santorava stepped to the very edge of the fire pit and loomed over her. The ritual Celeste had performed to summon him prevented the demon lord from leaving the circle.
“Yes,” he whispered. Shivers trembled down Celeste’s arms. He met her gaze, and Celeste was stunned to see what might have been tears of flame welling in his eyes.
“How?” Celeste asked.
“It was Cheveyna’s,” Santorava said. “She wore it the day she died. I hope that a small piece of her still lives in it.”
Celeste stared into the pendant. It shimmered in Santorava’s light, seeming to drink it in and return it with its own fiery luminance.
Her burning question rose to her mind. “I want to see your world.”
Santorava shook his head. “No, Celeste. Your thoughts are clear to me. You cannot come to Kraal. The heat would consume you in a moment. It is a world of demons, not of humans.” His eyes held hers. “As lovely as you are, and as welcome as you would be, you would not survive in my world.”
Celeste took a deep breath. She’d thought of this. He’d explained this simple fact to her before. In the past few weeks after she’d first summoned him, when she’d wanted to know why she looked like them.
“But what about my eyes?” she managed, feeling a lump in her throat. “Perhaps I am part…” She took a deep breath. “Perhaps I have demon blood in me? Perhaps my eyes are like yours because I have demon ancestry?”
“No, Celeste,” Santorava said. “I have wondered the same. But it cannot be. Demon blood and human cannot mix like that. I do not know why your eyes are like mine, but—”
“Don’t say it,” Celeste interrupted. The strength of her voice surprised her. “I don’t know how it’s possible, either, but we are alike somehow. We have to be.” But she knew that she added the last in order to convince herself more than anything.
Santorava slowly lifted his burning arm toward her. Fear rose in her stomach, but not because she feared his touch; he couldn’t actually touch her. She’d tried the first time she summoned him. Touching him was like touching fire; her hand passed right through him, searing her skin if she let it linger too long.
His hand hovered near her cheek. “If I could bring you, I would,” he said. “You’ve shown me great kindness. After Cheveyna disappeared, I forbade all demons from accepting human summons. When we no longer responded, the humans stopped trying. Your calling was the first in many hundreds of years. You have proven to be a good friend.”
“Come with me,” Celeste said, an idea forming in her mind. “Just for a little while.” She pointed to the pendant. “Bind to the necklace. It should hold you safe for a while. Perhaps, with time, you can learn to bind to other things, longer term.”
Santorava hesitated. “I cannot, Celeste. There�
��s no reason for me to—”
“You can search this world,” Celeste said. “Perhaps you’ll find her, if her soul still lingers.”
“This isn’t my world, Celeste.”
“Nor is it hers,” Celeste said. She had almost said nor is it mine, but caught herself. The more she thought of it, the more she realized it was true. Celeste often felt isolated from the other people in her life. Her family had never understood her, and the Servicers of the Glandel hardly noticed she existed. As vast as the world was, there never seemed to be a place for an average-looking, golden-eyed, shy girl. Nothing in this world called to her, yet the demon world of Kraal resonated with her in a way she’d never felt before.
“Please,” Celeste said. “Bind to the pendant. If you can’t show me your sad world, let me show you mine.”
She forced herself to meet his eyes, and this time, he was the one who looked away. “Very well. I will try. Keep the pendant close, or else it shall be me who is in danger.”
He passed the necklace to her. The pearl illuminated as if lit with an inner fire. Santorava’s body began to shine so fiercely that Celeste covered her eyes with her free hand. The pearl warmed in her hand.
A flash brightened the room, then faded, leaving the lab in near darkness. Celeste opened her eyes and saw only smoldering embers in the fire pit that Santorava had stood in moments before. Tucking back a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, she gazed at the necklace. It glowed faintly in the dark. A thin sheen of light danced across the surface of the pearl.
“Santorava?” she whispered.
No response came. For a moment, she feared he’d left—or worse, he’d died somehow. But despite the lack of response, she could feel his presence. His warmth, his strength, his very self, clearly emanated from the pearl. He was in there, as certainly as she stood in the room.
A sudden awareness of the time washed over Celeste. How long had she been in the laboratory? Evening assembly was likely to be over.
Her hands trembling, Celeste unclasped the hook and pulled the string wide. The pendant had once belonged to the queen of the devanas. Santorava’s limeni had worn it. Celeste closed her eyes and imagined him, burning with passionate fire, reaching out to hold a woman—a woman who wore nothing besides the necklace. A woman who, in Celeste’s imagination, looked exactly like Celeste herself.
She took a deep breath, placed the pearl around her neck, and clasped the hook. A milky warmth spread through her body, heating her from within.
She slipped out of the laboratory and back to her room. A few acolytes roamed the Glandel, but none gave her a second glance. She estimated that the assembly was over, which meant it would be lights out soon.
Easing back into her room, Celeste found it deserted. She wondered where Erina was, then realized with a smile that her friend was likely reuniting with Alesto. If their past history was any indication, Erina would not return until the next morning.
Celeste returned the empty box to her wardrobe and moved to the window. She adjusted the curtains to ensure they were completely closed. A quick glance outside told her the sun was setting.
The pearl’s warmth kissed her skin. Celeste slid her fingers toward it, touching its heat. She twirled it between her fingertips, letting its radiance spill onto her hands.
Her cheeks flushed. Her hands trembled. Celeste felt her body change and react in a way it never had before. Her breasts heaved with the deep breaths she now took. Beneath her coarse acolyte robes, she sensed one of her nipples harden. A low moan escaped her lips.
Celeste didn’t know what exactly was happening, but one thing was for sure. She could feel Santorava with her. If she strained her mind, she could almost hear him whispering to her.
“Santorava,” she moaned. She ran a sweaty palm down the side of her body.
Her robes were too hot. With a groan of frustration, she dragged them off. Wearing only her thin undergarments, she crashed onto the bed and let her hand wander back to the necklace.
With her eyes closed, Celeste imagined the large man easing himself down on top of her. Her lips pressed together and she imagined him lowering his full mouth to hers.
Heat spread across her lips, matching her kiss. She parted her mouth wider, letting Santorava’s tongue slip into her. Now his weight and warmth were upon her, holding her. She snaked her arms around the demon lord, afraid to open her eyes in case he would not be there.
Wordless whispers filled her ear, speaking names for her that had no proper vocalizations. Santorava’s fiery kisses trailed down her neck. His invisible fingers gently combed the back of her head, pulling her hair. She pressed her fingers hard into his back, feeling resistance from his hard muscles.
The pendant around her neck seared her skin, but the pain felt good. Her skin came alive with fire. She pulled the demon lord closer, raising her head to kiss him harder. She took control, demanding with her actions that he go further.
“Fill me, Santorava,” Celeste begged. “Ignite me.”
The demon lord trembled under her touch, but his ferocity increased. She felt the first flames on her skin lick to life, starting at the base of her spine and spreading up and outward. She arched her back, and her undergarments burned away.
The world incinerated as Santorava devoured her with his mouth and hard body. But despite the passion, she could sense his heat fading just as hers increased. Somewhere in the middle of her fervor, she had the presence of mind to realize sunset had come, and he would fade.
She knew completely, in that moment, what had happened. And what needed to happen next. The realization dawned on her like the glory of a full moon filling a summer sky.
“Come to me,” Celeste said. “Share my fire. Take my sacravella.”
Trembling, she pulled Santorava down onto her, and let him slide inside her. He filled her more completely than she thought possible. Pleasure tore across her whole body. She lifted her legs and crossed her ankles around him, pulling him deeper.
She knew, without looking, that her body burned with a steady fire. A fire that, having been ignited by a demon lord, now burned away the shell of her old self, revealing her true form within. Now, with the sun set, and the moon rising, it was her duty to keep him alive. She willed her sacravella to envelope Santorava, binding them together in a passionate inferno.
Celeste arched her back more as her first climax approached. Her fingers dug into his back. A tide of pleasure exploded across her. She screamed again and again as Santorava thrust into her.
She came again, moaning and shuddering with pleasure. Santorava loomed higher over her, burning. His energy never waned. As she came off her most recent climax, Celeste kissed him gently, and he returned it, exploring her. She rocked within his strong arms, overwhelmed by every fiber of his being.
The night went on. They shared Celeste’s sacravella for hours. She explored Santorava’s formless body with her hands and mouth. She rolled and turned, asking him to take her from different angles. Each time the thrill was different, but always resulted in an eruption of pleasure. Santorava never slowed, and never tired.
Finally, as the night descended toward day, Santorava’s pace changed. He clutched her tighter, his thrusting becoming even more vigorous. He devoured her, kissing her insatiably. It was all Celeste could do to grip his shoulders and cling to him. With a moan of pleasure, he came, and heat, and power, unlike anything she’d ever felt, filled her. It spread from her lower body through every inch of her until her fingertips shuddered with vibrant energy.
They slowed, still holding each other, Celeste panting. She gently kissed him once more, her lips trembling.
“Santorava,” she whispered.
A scream ripped through the room.
Celeste whipped her head in its direction, opening her eyes for the first time.
Erina stood in the doorway, eyes wide with shock and terror. Behind her stood Gentufen Alesto.
Her roommate screamed again. A wave of panic charged through Celeste as she re
alized that blue flames coursed over her skin. She was afire! Painlessly, gloriously, afire!
Alesto barged past Erina and lifted both hands toward the ceiling. He spoke an incantation in a language Celeste didn’t understand. Before Celeste could protest, he snapped his hands down, and darkness consumed her.
She awoke an unknown time later, groggy with sleep. Blinking herself to wakefulness, she discovered her hands and feet were shackled to a chair with iron chains. She wore a thin robe, one she recognized as Erina’s. She still wore the pearl pendant, but the flames she’d felt during her lovemaking were gone.
Celeste could feel Santorava still with her, yet he did not stir. She whipped her gaze around at her surroundings and realized she was in the same lab where she’d summoned the demon lord.
Alesto walked over to her. Behind him, Erina dry washed her hands nervously. Her gaze bounced between Celeste and the gentufen.
“You dabbled in forbidden arts, acolyte.” Alesto sneered. “There’s a heavy penalty for that.”
“Then let me go,” Celeste said. “I will accept my expulsion.”
Alesto shook his head. “I’ve reviewed what you did in this lab. You summoned a demon lord, and have since bound yourself to him. Such a thing hasn’t happened in hundreds of years. The Superiors will reward me for providing them with a live sample. We just need to figure out how to separate you from the demon.”
“If you separate us, he will die,” Celeste said. “Let me help you communicate and understand him.”
Alesto shook his head. “A demon lord possessed you and took his advantage. This is what you get for summoning forces you cannot comprehend.”
