Rowan never thought his story would end in the gutter.
The rain had been cold that night, dripping through the cracked tiles of his apartment ceiling, soaking his thin blanket. He had lived his whole life on the edge—unremarkable grades, unremarkable jobs, unremarkable dreams. People forgot his face as easily as they ignored his words. He was the kind of man who existed only in the background of other people's stories. An extra.
And yet, death came for him anyway.
He didn't die in some heroic blaze, nor in some dramatic betrayal. No, it was quiet—his heart stopped, worn down by exhaustion and loneliness. He was thirty when his body finally gave in. Forgotten by the world, he slipped into darkness without anyone at his side.
But the darkness didn't last.
When Rowan opened his eyes, he was no longer in his rotting apartment. He lay beneath a heavy sky, clouds burning with violet light. His body ached, but his skin felt…different. His senses were sharper. The wind carried scents he had never noticed before—warmth, sweat, the faint sweetness of life.
And beneath it all, something gnawed at him. A hunger.
Not the familiar hunger of poverty or empty cupboards, but something deeper. Something primal, coiled in his blood. He pressed a trembling hand against his chest, feeling a faint thrum that wasn't his heartbeat.
> Feed…
The whisper echoed in his skull. He staggered to his feet, staring at his reflection in a shallow pool nearby.
The face looking back was his, but not quite. His hair, once dull, now carried a faint crimson sheen. His eyes, grey in life, glimmered with violet under the strange sky. A faint aura rippled from his body, subtle yet intoxicating, as if his very presence bent the world around him.
He didn't know it yet, but he had been reborn as an Incubus.
And in this world, Incubi were hunted. Feared. Despised.
Rowan stumbled forward, clutching his stomach as the hunger grew. The whisper inside him sharpened, urging him toward warmth—toward the glow of a nearby village. He didn't understand it, but instinct told him the truth: if he ignored this need, he would wither and die.
Rowan Hale, the forgotten extra, had been given a new life.
But survival came at a price.
To live, he would have to take.
To grow, he would have to seduce.
And from that night onward, his story would never again belong to someone else.
It would be written in desire, bound by hunger, and remembered in whispers of sin.
---
The night air was colder than it should have been. Rowan stumbled down a dirt path that wound through the trees, clutching his stomach as the hunger gnawed at him again. It was strange—his body felt strong, sharper than it had ever been in his old life, yet that strength was hollow. Every step reminded him that he was empty, incomplete, as if some vital thread inside him had been cut.
The village lights flickered in the distance. Small, warm glows scattered across wooden houses, smoke curling lazily from chimneys. Rowan's throat tightened at the sight. He could hear faint voices carrying through the night, laughter, the sounds of families sharing meals. It was ordinary, painfully ordinary, and for a moment he almost believed he could simply walk in, ask for shelter, and blend in as one of them.
But the whisper inside him returned, low and insistent. Feed.
His legs weakened. He collapsed to his knees, clutching the dirt. A dull ache burned behind his eyes, and the faint purple glow flickered across his vision again. Every sound sharpened—the beat of a chicken's wings, the slow creak of a window, the soft inhale of a girl inside one of the homes. The scent of life wrapped around him like a drug, and the hunger grew unbearable.
He pressed a hand against his mouth, shaking. He wasn't stupid. He understood now why his body screamed like this. He wasn't human. He wasn't even just cursed. He was something the world despised, something that lived off the essence of others. A demon. An Incubus.
The thought alone should have sickened him. Instead, it terrified him for another reason. Because even now, in this fragile moment, he wanted it. His instincts were already begging him to take, to draw closer, to drink the warmth that wasn't his.
A sudden voice cut through the haze.
"You there—are you alright?"
Rowan blinked and turned his head. A girl stood a few steps away, holding a basket of herbs in her arms. She looked no older than him, dressed simply in a brown dress with her hair tied back. Her eyes, a soft green, studied him with a mix of caution and concern.
He tried to speak, but his throat was dry. His words broke into a ragged whisper. "I… I'm fine."
It was a lie. His body trembled, his breath uneven.
The girl frowned and set her basket aside, crouching near him. "You don't look fine at all. You're pale. You should come inside before you collapse."
Her closeness made the hunger roar. Rowan's heart thudded as he inhaled her scent—warm, alive, sweet in a way that drove him nearly mad. He forced himself to look away, to steady his breathing, but his body was betraying him.
She touched his arm gently. "You're freezing."
The contact was too much. A spark shot through him, and in that instant the truth of what he was became undeniable. Energy stirred within him, pulling at the girl's warmth as if his very skin was trying to drink her. He jerked his arm back, horrified.
The girl blinked in surprise but didn't recoil. "You're trembling… you need help, don't you?"
Rowan swallowed hard. He didn't trust himself to speak. If he stayed, he might lose control. If he left, the hunger would tear him apart. His vision swam as he struggled to rise, but his legs failed him.
The girl hesitated for a moment, then slipped her arm under his, helping him stand. "My house is close. You can rest there until you're better."
Rowan should have refused. He should have run, hidden, done anything but step closer to the very thing his body craved. But the hunger was too strong. And though his mind screamed with warning, his lips whispered words he hadn't intended.
"…Thank you."
The girl smiled softly, unaware of the shadow she had just invited into her life.
Rowan Hale, forgotten extra, now demon reborn, crossed the threshold of the village healer's home. And with it, he began the first bond that would change his fate forever.