The Devil's Broken Doll
Like a coal being nudged after lying still for too long.
Her head snapped back on a cry, spine bowing, chains jerking taut. The Devil bent over her, chest to her back, mouth at her ear, his hands clamped around her hips as if holding her in place against the storm he’d unleashed.
Caelum’s fingers dug into the stone. The ember inside him flared. Not enough to light. But enough to hurt. A throbbing ache blossomed deep in his chest, syncing with the cadence of their movements. Every time the Devil drove into her, Caelum’s magic twitched, reaching. Every time she shuddered, the ember pulsed, as if answering her.