The Alpha Devil’s Dark Temptation
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Thanks to whatever dark gods still listened—Lucifer, Selene, or some crueler bastard who enjoyed watching me bleed—the time finally arrived.
Two months and thirteen days.
The room smelled of silverleaf, hellfire resin, and sacred spring water. Thick ritual oils gleamed on the low table: moon-blessed myrrh, starbloom essence, blood-red infernal sap.
Livia moved like a shadow, pouring the warm oil first across Maureen’s forehead—tracing the crescent scar at her throat—then lower, over the full, taut curve of her belly.