Sins of the Succubus

5. Dremlor

5

DREMLOR

I lean back in my chair, a smirk playing on my lips as I watch the scene unfold before me. The dark elf, all puffed up with his own importance, gesticulates wildly at the human woman. She's a sight to behold, that one. Her feline eyes flash with a fury that would make lesser beings cower.

"You'll do as I say, Neela," the dark elf snarls, his voice grating on my nerves. "Remember your place."

Neela. It rolls off the tongue like silk, fitting for a creature of such exquisite beauty. She stands her ground, chin raised in defiance.

"My place?" she hisses. "Is that what you call this hell you've trapped me in?"

I can't help but chuckle. Her spirit is as intoxicating as her appearance. The dark elf's face contorts with rage, his hand raised as if to strike her. I tense, ready to intervene, but Neela beats me to it.

"Go ahead," she taunts. "Give these fine patrons a show. I'm sure they'd love to see how you treat your prized possession."

Fuck me, but she's got balls. I've seen countless beings in my time, but never one quite like her. The despair that drew me here still clings to her like a second skin, yet beneath it burns a fire that refuses to be extinguished.

The dark elf lowers his hand, his eyes darting around the room. "This isn't over," he growls, before stomping off.

Neela's shoulders sag, the fire in her eyes dimming. She turns, catching my gaze. For a moment, the world falls away. Those eyes... they're not just beautiful, they're irresistible.

I watch as Neela approaches, her steps graceful despite the weight of despair hanging on her shoulders. Fuck, she's even more captivating up close. Those feline eyes draw me in, threatening to unravel my carefully crafted disguise.

"Welcome to our humble establishment," she says, her voice a low, melodious purr. "I'm Neela. Is there anything I can do for you tonight?"

The double meaning in her words isn't lost on me. Images of what I'd like her to do flash through my mind, but I push them aside. There's more to this woman than meets the eye, and I'm determined to uncover her secrets.

I clear my throat, suddenly aware of how unused to casual conversation I am. "Neela," I repeat, savoring the name on my tongue. "A fitting name for one so... intriguing."

She raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes. "Intriguing? That's a new one. Most patrons aren't quite so... eloquent."

I smirk, leaning back in my chair. "I'm not most patrons."

"No," she agrees, her gaze sweeping over me. "You're certainly not."

The air between us crackles with tension. I struggle to find the right words, cursing my lack of practice in mortal interactions.

"Perhaps you'd care to join me for a drink?" I finally manage, gesturing to the empty seat across from me.

Neela hesitates, her eyes darting to where her husband had disappeared. "I... I'm not sure that would be wise."

"Afraid of your keeper?" I taunt, immediately regretting my words as her face hardens.

"You don't know anything about me," she snaps, turning to leave.

Shit. I reach out, careful not to touch her. "Wait. I apologize. That was... uncalled for."

She pauses, surprise evident on her face. "Did you just... apologize?"

I shrug, uncomfortable with the admission of fault. "Don't get used to it. Now, about that drink?"

I watch as Neela's eyes dart between me and the drink I've offered. She's like a cornered shadowcat, all grace and danger, ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.

"I appreciate the offer, but I can't sit," she says, her voice low and cautious.

I lean back, crossing my arms. "And why the fuck not?"

She shifts her weight, uncomfortable. "It's not allowed. I'm… not allowed to sit."

A growl rumbles in my chest. "Darling, I don't give a fuck what's allowed. Sit down."

Neela's eyes widen, a mix of surprise and... is that interest? She hesitates for a moment, then slowly lowers herself into the chair across from me.

"You're not like the others," she murmurs, her gaze locked on mine.

I grunt. "Obviously. Don't insult me."

As we talk, I feel something unexpected stirring within me. It's not just her beauty or the intoxicating despair that drew me here. There's a spark in her, a fire that refuses to be extinguished despite the hell she's endured.

"Tell me, Neela," I say, leaning forward. "What do you want out of life?"

She laughs, a bitter sound. "Want? I stopped wanting things a long time ago."

"Bullshit," I counter. "Everyone wants something. Even if it's just to survive another day."

Neela's eyes flash, and for a moment, I catch a glimpse of the strength hidden beneath her fragile exterior. "Fine. I want freedom. I want to never feel another man's unwanted hands on me. I want..." She trails off, shaking her head.

"Go on," I urge. I can sense it. Her anger. Her fury. And it's delicious.

"I want to burn this whole fucking place to the ground," she whispers fiercely.

I can't help but grin. "Now that's more like it."

I've lived for eons, seen civilizations rise and fall, but I've never felt anything quite like this.

Neela seems equally affected. The suspicion in her eyes gradually gives way to curiosity, then to something warmer. She leans in, drinking in every word I say like a parched traveler at an oasis.

"I've never met anyone like you," she admits, a shy smile playing on her lips.

I lean back, smirking. "Of course you haven't."

I lean in closer, my eyes locked on Neela's. The fire in her gaze is intoxicating, a perfect match for the inferno raging inside me. "You know, darling, there's something about you that sets you apart from every other creature in this shithole."

Neela's lips curl into a smirk. "Oh? And what might that be?"

"You've got balls," I growl, a grin spreading across my face. "Most mortals would've pissed themselves by now, sitting across from someone like me."

She leans back, crossing her arms. "Maybe I'm not like most mortals."

"Fuck no, you're not," I agree, raising my glass in a mock toast. "To unique creatures in a world full of boring shit."

Neela laughs, a genuine sound that sends a shiver down my spine. "I'll drink to that," she says, clinking her glass against mine.

As we talk, I notice a change in Neela. The fear and hesitation that clouded her eyes earlier begin to fade, replaced by a growing confidence. She matches me quip for quip, her wit as sharp as a dagger.

"You know," she says, leaning forward conspiratorially, "Most men who come in here are all hands and no substance."

I snort. "Trust me, darling, I've got plenty of both."

Her eyes rake over me, lingering on my chest before meeting my gaze again. "I don't doubt it."

The air between us crackles with tension. I find myself leaning in, drawn to her like a moth to flame. "Tell me, Neela," I murmur, my voice low and husky, "what would you do if you could leave this place?"

She pauses, considering. "I'd see the world," she says finally. "I'd go wherever I wanted, do whatever I pleased. No one telling me what to do or how to act."

"Sounds like freedom," I muse.

"Freedom," she echoes, her eyes distant. "I wonder what that feels like."

I lean back, studying Neela with growing frustration. What the fuck is it about this woman? Her despair drew me here like a moth to flame, and her anger... fuck, it's intoxicating. But there's something else, something that's driving me mad trying to figure out.

"You're not what I expected," I growl, narrowing my eyes.

Neela raises an eyebrow. "Oh? And what did you expect?"

"A broken toy," I admit. "But you're... different."

She laughs, a bitter sound that sends a shiver down my spine. "Trust me, I'm plenty broken."

I lean forward, my voice low. "No. You're not. That's what's so fucking infuriating about you."

Her eyes widen, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. "You don't know me."

"I know enough," I counter. "I've seen countless souls crushed under the weight of their misery. But you? You're still fighting."

Neela's jaw clenches. "What choice do I have?" She stands, taking her last sip to show that she's done her part before excusing herself to get back to work.

Oh, everyone has a choice. And I'm more than ready to make mine.