I signed a contract with the devil

"Back story"

Isla Vance had always been the stronger sister. Her younger sister, Elara, was a beautiful, bright, but delicate soul, struggling since childhood with a rare, degenerative blood disease. Isla, working three jobs and putting her own future on hold, poured every cent and ounce of energy into Elara's care, fighting against hospital bills and worsening diagnoses.

The doctors had finally delivered the crushing news: Elara needed a specific, incredibly rare bone marrow transplant within ten days, or she would die. The cost was astronomical, far beyond anything Isla could ever earn or borrow. Desperation had become a cold, heavy knot in her chest, driving away sleep and hope.

Two days remained before the deadline when a strange, ornate card appeared on her doorstep, carrying no postage stamp. It simply read: A Solution for the Incurable. Midnight, 15th Street Bridge.

Isla had always been a skeptic, practical and grounded. But with Elara coughing up blood in the next room, she had nowhere else to turn. Driven by fierce, protective love, she went.

She met the contract broker—a neutral, chillingly calm man with eyes like polished obsidian. He offered her a contract, simple in appearance, promising the immediate, full cure and health of Elara Vance. The price was vague, listed as Ownership of the Signatory, to be collected at the Contractor's discretion. The broker assured her that the contract was binding, irrevocable, and guaranteed results. He explained that the Contractor was a powerful entity named Lucien.

Isla read the words permanent cure and thought only of Elara’s smile. She snatched the pen, signed her name hastily, and the paper vanished instantly. Hours later, the hospital called: Elara was miraculously stable. All signs of the disease were gone.

Isla felt a moment of pure, blinding relief, followed immediately by the cold dread of knowing a debt was waiting. She knew she had sold herself, but she had saved her sister. That trade was worth any price. She only hoped the price would not be collected too soon.

*******

The air inside the room changed the moment the contract was signed. Isla barely registered the shift. She was completely focused on the fact that she had just sold her life to save her sister. The pen had felt unusually heavy in her hand, and the ink had soaked into the parchment as if it were drawn by a living thing. She did not read the small details. She could not focus on them. Her sister’s life was on the line, and that was the only thing that mattered to her.

The clock struck midnight the following day. The room instantly grew cold. Isla’s breath misted clearly in the air before her face. Her fingers trembled as she gripped the edge of the small table. The shadows deep in the corner of the room began to swirl rapidly, twisting and gathering into a solid mass. A figure stepped out from the resulting darkness. He was tall and imposing. His presence alone was so profound it made her knees feel weak.

His name was Lucien.

His dark horns caught the faint light, gleaming slightly. His skin was so pale it seemed to generate its own faint glow. His eyes were the color of molten gold, and they fixed on her with an intensity that made her feel stripped bare and exposed. He possessed a beauty that was unreal, the kind of perfection that belonged not in her ordinary living room but in a terrifying dream.

“Isla.” His voice was low and exceedingly smooth. The sound alone sent sharp shivers down her spine and across her skin. “You now belong entirely to me, every single part of you.”

She swallowed hard. Her heart pounded heavily and quickly in her chest. “I did not—I did not fully know what the contract contained when I signed it.”

Lucien tilted his head slowly to one side. A subtle smirk played across his lips. “Ignorance does not forgive your contract, my dear. You are now mine. I fully intend to collect what is owed.”

He took a step closer. Each movement was deliberate, and his gaze never shifted from hers. Isla stumbled backward until her spine hit the wall. Her pulse began to race uncontrollably. Lucien extended his hand. His fingers brushed lightly against her cheek, and she flinched instantly at the contact. His touch was cold, yet it sent a powerful, confusing heat pooling low in her stomach.

“You are shaking so much,” he murmured. His thumb traced the sharp line of her jaw. “Are you truly afraid of me?”

“Yes, I am afraid. Who would not be? Just look at you,” she whispered back. Her voice was barely a sound.

“Good.” His smirk widened, showing a flash of perfectly white teeth. He leaned in close, his breath warm and slow against her ear. “Fear always makes you much more cooperative, does it not?”

Before she could form any kind of response, his lips crashed down onto hers. The kiss was hard, demanding, and utterly possessive. Isla’s hands rose automatically to push against his chest, but he was solid and unmoving. His body pressed her tightly into the wall behind her. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, laying claim to her with a ferocious energy that instantly left her dizzy and unable to think clearly. She moaned, the sound swallowed completely by his dominant kiss. Her resistance shattered under the sheer force of his desire.

Lucien’s hands moved quickly down her body, gripping her hips and pulling her hard against him. She could feel the hard, thick length of his groin pressing into her lower stomach, and a small whimper escaped her throat, lost in the kiss. He broke the contact between their mouths. His lips trailed down her neck, and his teeth grazed her skin in a way that made her shudder strongly.

“You belong to me, Isla,” he growled. His voice was thick with raw lust. “Every inch of you is mine. I am going to make love to you with such intensity that you will forget your own identity.”

His specific words sent a sharp jolt of heat straight to her core. She instantly hated herself for how wet he was making her feel. Lucien’s hands moved to the lower hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head in one swift, efficient movement. Her lace bra followed immediately. He paused for only a brief moment, clearly taking the time to admire her breasts. His golden eyes visibly darkened with sudden hunger.

“Perfect,” he muttered. His hands cupped her breasts gently but firmly. His thumbs brushed slow circles over her nipples. Isla gasped sharply, her back arching into his touch without thinking. He lowered his head quickly. His lips closed firmly around one nipple, sucking hard and deep. She cried out, her fingers tangling tightly in his dark hair as he lavished attention on her breasts, moving between them with a satisfied groan of approval.