I awaken with a jolt, the cavernous silence of the mansion pressing in on me. My skull thumps with an insistent ache, as though someone inside is hammering at my temples. I press trembling fingers to my forehead. No delicious aroma of frying eggs or fresh coffee drifts through the corridor. In its place is only the cold morning air, heavy with dust motes dancing in stray beams of sunlight.
"Holy shit, my head hurts," I mutter, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. The satin sheets slip from my knees in a whisper. I stand unsteadily and pad across polished marble floors toward the kitchen, each footfall echoing unnaturally. The cupboards and counters gleam, but no one's here. I call out, voice cracking with panic: "Caleif? Mira? Anyone?" The emptiness answers me.
A shiver slides down my spine. I turn, breath catching at the sight of her, perched by the island as though she'd always been there. Azazel. Her silver-white hair ripples over her shoulders like moonlight flowing on water, shadowed streaks weaving through the strands as though something dark stirred beneath. Her golden eyes glitter with amusement.
"Holy shit!" I scream, backing into a stool that clatters to the floor.
Azazel's laughter is low and melodious, the walls swallowing it. She steps forward, each movement deliberate, predatory. "You have completed the integration, Kamen. Now I will have what's mine." Her fingertip drags gently across my jaw, a chill razor tracing my skin.
Suddenly, the gauntlet's chime rings out—a crystalline note that makes me swallow hard. "Can we talk about thi—" I begin, but she slams me backward against the granite countertop. The world tilts as her lips press against my neck in a bruising kiss, her weight pinning me in place. My protests die in my throat.
"I've been alone for so long," she whispers, voice a silk thread winding around my senses, "and now there's someone strong enough for me to… have fun with." Her hands roam with purpose. The gauntlet's glow flares to a blinding 100 percent, humming with destructive power I can't control. For hours, she uses me over and over, her laughter echoing in my head as waves of pain and pleasure blur together until I lose count of time.
When at last she releases me, I collapse to the cold tile, limbs trembling as if struck by lightning. My flesh aches in places I didn't know could ache; every breath tastes of fear and exhaustion. The gauntlet dims to a dull, defeated glow against my skin.
Azazel rises, stretching luxuriously like a satisfied cat. "Was that as good for you as it was for me?" she purrs, voice soft and dangerous. Silver strands fan out around her, the shifting shadows in her hair pulsing as though alive. She seems utterly unbothered by what just transpired, as if it were a mere warm-up.
"I—I can't even move," I rasp, trying to lever myself up by clutching the countertop. My arms tremble and give way. "What the hell did you do to me?"
She laughs, a sound both sweet and terrifying. "I merely claimed what was promised, Kamen. You're still intact… mostly." Her eyes flicker from gold to violet, studying me like a rare specimen. "Integration with Estingoth has enhanced your… physical capabilities far beyond what I anticipated."
I finally manage to sit, leaning against the cabinets for support. "That wasn't exactly consensual," I mutter, though I remember too well how the gauntlet had thrummed in response, how a part of me had reacted despite every instinct screaming no.
"Wasn't it?" Azazel tilts her head, as if curious why I'd question it. "The gauntlet doesn't lie, Kamen. It reflects desire—yours and Estingoth's." She kneels beside me, her midnight-blue robes pooling like liquid shadow. "Don't worry. In time, you'll learn to enjoy our arrangement."
"Arrangement?" My stomach twists. "This isn't going to be a regular thing."
Her lips curve into a predatory smile. "Oh, but it is. When I offered my blood for the ritual, I didn't just stabilize your bond with Estingoth—I forged a new one with me." Her fingertip drifts across my jaw again, and I flinch. "My essence is woven into your transformation. I can find you anywhere, sense your every thought… and influence your responses." She glances meaningfully at my lap.
"You've got to be kidding me." I run a hand through my hair, heart pounding. "So now you own me?"
"Own is such an ugly word," she says, rising gracefully. In an instant, her garments shimmer and reshape into deep purple and midnight blue fabrics, embroidered with silver glyphs that catch the light. "I prefer to think of it as… exclusive access." She brushes a fingertip along my cheek. "And there are benefits—my power is partially yours to command, when I allow it."
I haul myself to my feet, knees wobbling. "Does Caleif know about this?" suspicion knotting in my chest.
Azazel's perfect features flicker with annoyance. "The demon girl? No. And I intend to keep it that way for now."
"Why?" I demand. "What are you hiding?"
She sighs, inspecting her nails. "Let's just say she and I have… competing interests concerning you. She wants a servant. I want something far more intimate."
A crash at the front door draws her gaze. Her smile tightens. "Speak of the devil." She leans in, pressing a final, electric kiss to my lips. "Remember our little secret." Then she melts into the shadows, dissolving as if she'd never existed.
Moments later, Caleif slips in, cradling grocery bags. She stops dead when she sees my disheveled state. "Kamen? Are you alright? You look… off."
I force a weak grin. "Just tripped out of bed. Weird dream." I wave a hand through my rumpled shirt. "Still shaking it off."
She regards me with worry. Before she can press on, Mira bursts in, arms laden with snacks. "We got those chips you love! And Caleif agreed to movie night."
I exhale, grateful for the normalcy. "Perfect," I say, voice hollow. As we unpack the groceries—crunchy chips, carton of eggs, tubs of ice cream—I can't rid myself of Azazel's touch lingering on my skin.
"You're quiet," Caleif notes, handing me the eggs. "How are you feeling after the integration? Any strange side effects?"
My heart hammers. Does she suspect? "N-no," I stammer, nearly dropping the eggs. "Just… still adjusting to sharing headspace with Estingoth."
She studies my arms. "Well, you look stronger. We should train later, see what new abilities you've awakened."
I nod, though dread coils in my gut. I hardly dare use the gauntlet now that Azazel's influence still flickers within me.
A warm pulse hums from the gauntlet—soft, unfamiliar. My spine tingles, as if invisible fingers trace up my back. A voice, silk and venom, slithers into my mind.
*Thinking of me already?*
I flinch, knocking over a box of cereal. Flakes scatter across the floor.
"Sorry!" I stammer, sweeping them up as Mira giggles.
*Get out of my head,* I send back, trembling.
*Oh, but it's so interesting in here,* she purrs. *So many delicious secrets and desires. Your gauntlet never lies, Kamen.*
Caleif watches me with concern. "Maybe you should rest," she suggests kindly. "This was a lot to go through."
"Yeah," I agree instantly, eager to escape. "I'll go lie down."
I retreat to my room and shut the door with a soft click. Alone in the dim hush, I whisper, "Estingoth, we need to talk."
The gauntlet glows, and his voice resonates in my mind: calm, ancient. "I suspected something was amiss. Blood magic always carries strings."
"Did you know what she planned?" I pace the small space, tugging at my sleeves.
"Not precisely," he admits. "But she cannot control you utterly. Your will remains your own."
"Tell that to my body," I snarl, then soften. "Sorry. I don't know what to do."
"We could confide in Caleif," he suggests. "She might unravel the bond."
I shake my head. "Not yet. Azazel warned of competing interests. I need time to understand."
Estingoth's tone turns resolute. "Through training, you will learn to command our power and resist her influence. The bond between us is strong."
A spark of determination ignites inside me. I settle onto the bed, back straight against the headboard. "Alright. Let's train. Show me what we can do together."
The gauntlet pulses, warm encouragement beneath my palm. For the first time since the morning's nightmare, I feel hope. I will grow stronger—enough to break Azazel's hold and protect those I care about. One step at a time, I'll master this bond and reclaim my life.