I turned toward the voice that had spoken to me, but no one was behind me. Cold fingers gripped my jaw and forced me to look forward.
"So you're the one who summoned me?" asked the young man in front of me, his voice deep yet youthful.
His crimson irises seemed to dance with the candlelight as they studied me closely. His appearance caught me off guard. I knew high-class demons often resembled humans, but this was nothing like what I had expected. I also knew I wasn't supposed to show weakness, yet I couldn't stop myself from feeling nervous.
"Y-yeah," I managed to say, cursing myself for stuttering.
He was so close I could feel his breath. He looked to be in his twenties, and at that distance his facial features were clearly distinguishable. Pale skin, sharp cheekbones, a pointed nose, and medium-length straight black hair that fell across his forehead. He could have passed for the son of a noble, if not for the color of his eyes and the two horns protruding from his head.
"Tell me your name," he ordered, with a smile I couldn't interpret.
"Jaden." The word slipped from my mouth against my will.
I frowned and, going against all sense of survival, brushed his hand away from my face.
"Did you cast a spell on me?" I asked angrily. He just stared at me.
"Must be my natural charm," he replied with a subtle smile on his lips, not bothering in the slightest with my question—if anything, simply ignoring it.
He turned away and began to walk around the room, examining it with amused curiosity. That's when I noticed the metal shackles around his wrists and ankles, which clashed with the elegance of his black clothes embroidered with silver.
"So this attempt at a summoning circle, you drew it yourself?" he said, first inspecting the floor and then stopping at the open book on the nightstand. "The lines are uneven, the magical powder is poor quality, the—"
"But it worked, didn't it?" I interrupted, forcing myself to sound confident. A difficult feat in front of his intimidating presence. "I... I summoned you, and you have to serve me. That's how it works, isn't it?"
He looked at me for a moment, as if I'd just said something funny. Shit, I thought, right before he stepped closer again.
"Did it really work?" he whispered, pressing the tip of his index finger to my throat.
I took a step back, but I was cornered against one of the walls and couldn't retreat any further. The air left my lungs under the weight of his red eyes drilling into me. Then he pulled his finger away from my neck, and I could breathe again.
"The truth is that despite your circle looking like it was drawn by a child, I have to admit—you somehow pulled it off," he said with a crooked smile. "Congratulations, Jaden. Your blood was particularly nourishing."
He ran his tongue over his lips, and I caught sight of two sharp fangs in his mouth. Irritation ran through me as I remembered how moments earlier I thought I would bleed out when my blood began to be absorbed by the ritual circle.
"But don't get the wrong idea," he added suddenly, his tone so serious the atmosphere grew oppressive.
The room darkened, and everything seemed to fall silent.
"Right now I'm bound to the ritual and can't harm the one who summoned me," he continued, pointing at my chest. "But I am not your servant. If I wanted to, I could return to the underworld this very moment. With those pathetic seals, not in ten thousand years would you be able to bind a high-ranking demon."
Shit. A hollow pit opened in my chest at his words. Of course it hadn't worked. Did I really believe a failure like me could control a demon? Maybe I'd been far too ambitious. I had managed to summon a high-class demon purely by luck, but I hadn't been able to seal him. A bitter smile formed on my lips. I had gambled everything and failed. Long ago I'd decided I was ready to die if something went wrong, but now I didn't even have the fortune of being killed.
The demon seemed to read my thoughts.
"But I'll offer you an alternative," he added, extending his hand toward me. "Make a blood pact with me."
I looked at him in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
He smiled as he walked away from me and sat on the edge of my bed.
"It's simple," he said. "You and I make a blood pact. I help you, you help me, and everyone's happy."
I frowned. If I was going to sell my soul, I wanted the details clear.
"How would we help each other?" I asked.
I was still pressed against the wall, and even though he was sitting just a few feet away, I didn't dare get closer. His eyes lingered on me for a few seconds before finally answering.
"You want power, don't you?" he asked, idly playing with his nails. "I'll give you power. You can take revenge, or do whatever it is you want to do. I honestly don't care."
"And what do you gain?" I pressed, irritation creeping into my voice at his smirk. "I don't believe you're helping me out of the kindness of your heart."
He seemed uncomfortable for a moment, then burst into laughter.
"I'm not going to take your soul, if that's what you're worried about. I couldn't care less about the soul of a pathetic human," he said, rising calmly from the bed. "Besides, you'll be glad to know that if you die, the pact will break, and I'll be sent back to the underworld. And to be clear, that's the last thing I want."
He strolled around the room again, stopping at the forbidden library's book and flipping through some of its pages. Then he faced me again, and I still hadn't moved an inch, only watching what he did.
"You won't be my master, but in a way my fate will be tied to yours. As for what I want from you... I'm afraid it's not time to tell you yet." He paused, letting his words sink in. "When you decided to summon a demon, you were ready to die. What more could you possibly lose?"
I stared at him for a few seconds, weighing his words. He was right.
"How do I know what you said about the blood pact is true?" I asked.
He sighed.
"Page 453," he replied, nodding toward the ritual book.
It annoyed me that he already knew what I was going to ask, but I went to the nightstand anyway and flipped to the page he indicated. There it was: the blood pact, exactly as he had described, word for word, including the steps to perform it.
I frowned.
"It says here that both parties must be bearers of dark mana, and that—"
"I'll handle that, don't worry," he interrupted, brushing off my words as he approached again. "So, what do you say?"
He was taller than me, so I had to tilt my head slightly to meet his eyes.
"As you said yourself, I have nothing to lose."
His smile widened, and a kind of knife made of dark energy appeared in his hand.
"Perfect." He sliced his palm. If it hurt, he didn't show it.
His blood was red too.
"Your hand," he demanded, and I offered it silently.
I couldn't help but wince when he cut into my palm carelessly, right over the wound that had barely stopped bleeding.
"If I make one more sacrifice today, I'll bleed out," I joked, partly to calm my nerves. He ignored me.
He clasped his bloody hand with mine, and the burning intensified. Then a strange, indescribable sensation spread from my chest to where our hands touched. Red particles swirled around us.
And then they vanished. A few seconds passed, and he released my hand, letting the mingled blood drip onto the floor at our feet.
"Congratulations, Jaden," he said, looking me in the eye. "You've made a pact with a demon."