> The forest was too quiet.
No wind.
No crickets.
Not even the rustle of night animals.
Only the soft whisper of pages turning in my hands—the pages of the Crimson Book.
I shouldn't have taken it from the forbidden vault beneath the old temple. But something about it called to me. Maybe it was the blood-red ink that shimmered when I touched it, or the way the symbols seemed to breathe. Or maybe… maybe it was the aching in my soul. That desperate longing to know why I was born different.
My fingers hovered above the final line of the spell, carved in a language I couldn't understand—but felt like I'd always known.
> "Ven'kareth Ravon El'Zairan…"
I spoke it aloud.
The instant the name left my lips, the earth trembled. The flames of my ritual candles hissed and snuffed out all at once.
Then came the silence.
And then… the scream.
It wasn't human. It came from the air itself, as if the night was being torn open. My heart thundered in my chest as a red light burst from the circle I'd drawn on the ground. Runes shimmered, flaring like angry stars.
And then… he appeared.
He stepped through the smoke like a shadow becoming flesh.
Tall. Towering. The air thickened around him. His eyes—crimson and cruel—locked onto mine. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. His body radiated darkness, fire licking at his boots, horns curving faintly from his black hair like a crown of war.
But he wasn't a beast.
He was… beautiful.
And terrifying.
And real.
> "Who dares summon me?" his voice was low, venomous—and ancient. It echoed through my bones.
I couldn't speak. My knees gave out. I fell onto the grass, heart pounding, blood roaring in my ears.
His gaze burned into me. "You," he said, stepping forward. "You're the one who called my name."
He crouched down in front of me. I flinched. His hand reached out—slowly—and stopped just inches from my face.
He tilted his head. His voice dropped.
> "A human girl… untrained. Unblessed. And yet… your soul smells like starlight."
I swallowed hard. "W-who are you?"
A cruel smirk curled his lips.
> "I am Ravon. Demon Lord of the Ember Realm. Slayer of Light. Breaker of seals. First-born of flame."
He leaned closer.
> "And now, little priestess… I'm yours."
Perfect 😈🖤 Let's continue Chapter One of Falling for a Demon Lord — this is the aftershock scene: Seraphina's emotions explode as Ravon closes in. The tension, danger, and strange pull between them will now take center stage.
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Falling for a Demon Lord
Chapter One – The Crimson Summoning (continued)
His words clung to the air like smoke.
> "And now, little priestess… I'm yours."
I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Every part of me screamed to run—but something deeper, something ancient, kept me rooted in place.
His presence wasn't just dark. It was overwhelming. Like standing too close to a fire you couldn't look away from.
I forced myself to breathe. "I didn't mean to—summon you. I didn't know—"
> "You spoke my true name," he cut in, eyes narrowing. "Only a soul marked by the curse could've opened the seal."
"Curse?" I whispered.
He stood fully, towering over me, cloak flickering like shadow and flame. His gaze swept over me with quiet contempt—then curiosity.
> "Your body is weak. Your magic's barely awakened. You're not a threat…"
He paused. "Yet I feel it. A link. You smell of starfire… of her."
My chest tightened. "Of who?"
He said nothing.
Instead, he raised his hand—and the air warped around his fingers. Heat shimmered. My skin tingled. Magic. Raw, violent magic.
I flinched as red flames curled toward me. But they didn't burn. They wrapped around my wrist like smoke… forming a glowing mark.
A seal.
> "What did you just do to me?!" I gasped.
> "Bound us," he said simply, stepping back. "Your soul called to mine. Now it is done. Our fates are knotted."
"No—no, break it!" I cried, scrambling back. "I don't want this! I didn't mean to—"
> "Intent does not undo blood-magic."
His voice was quiet now. Too quiet.
"You summoned me, priestess. I am yours. But that also means—"
He turned.
His wings—black as midnight, massive and unfolding—emerged from his back in one powerful sweep. The grass beneath his feet scorched.
> "—you are mine."
Then… he vanished.
Gone.
No flame. No warning. Just silence.
And the symbol on my wrist, still glowing like a dying star, pulsed once—then faded.
I was alone. But I knew deep in my bones…
He was watching.
And he'd be back.
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