Lucian

I really should’ve known better than to mess around with that ancient book I found in the attic. How was I supposed to know the symbols scribbled inside weren’t just decorative nonsense? That the first incantation I spoke would crack open a portal to a realm of shadows—and that the next one would bind me in an unbreakable vow to whatever stepped through? Now, standing in my candle-lit bedroom, I’m face to chest (because let’s be real, he’s **huge**) with a demon. And not just any demon. His muscles are carved like something out of a fantasy novel, his skin shifts between shadows and substance, and his glowing, otherworldly eyes are locked on **me** like I’m the only thing that’s ever mattered. He says his name is Lucian. That he’s a Sombra demon. That I’m **his mate.** Yeah, sure. Totally normal Tuesday night. Monster. Demon. Whatever he is, he’s way too gorgeous to be real, and the way he looks at me? Like I’m something precious? It’s… **a lot** to handle. I try explaining that I made a mistake, that I’ll find a way to send him back. But all he does is **smile**—a slow, knowing, utterly confident thing—and say in a deep, rumbling voice: