Sins of the Succubus

15. Neela

15

NEELA

" W hat's happening to me?" I ask, gazing out the window at the waning moons.

The room still echoes with the silence that followed Dremlor's sudden departure and the subsequent shattering of his spell. I can almost hear the thudding of a dozen hearts as the patrons and staff of the bar came undone, their minds unraveling at the sight of those frozen tax collectors and the gruesome tableau that was left in our wake. My husband's face, a mask of shock and fear, is etched into my memory—a portrait of a man who has realized, too late, that he no longer holds all the power.

I'm lost in these thoughts, perched on the edge of my bed, when a familiar, otherworldly chill prickles the air. My breath hitches as Dremlor materializes before me, his form coalescing from the shadows. Even after all we've been through, the sight of him—all stark angles and burning eyes—stirs something deep within me. His true demonic visage, so fearsome and free, is a testament to his unwavering confidence and the strength that drew me to him in the first place.

"You're late," I say, my tone light, but there's an undercurrent of concern that I can't quite mask.

Dremlor's lips quirk into a half-smile, an acknowledgment of my attempt at humor. "Time is a fickle thing, my dear. It bends to my will."

Dremlor walks over and sits on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. Without hesitation, I go to him, curling up in his arms and resting against his chest. His embrace is stiff at first, unfamiliar with such tender contact, but after a moment, his muscles relax and he pulls me closer.

I can't remember the last time I felt someone's affectionate hold. Not since my mother was alive. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut, and I find myself clinging to Dremlor, drinking in his warmth.

"This is... new," I murmur, my voice muffled against his chest.

Dremlor's chuckle rumbles through me. "For both of us, it seems."

I tilt my head up to look at him. "Demons don't cuddle?"

"Not typically, no," he says, his fiery gaze meeting mine. "We're more inclined to rip and tear."

"Sounds lonely," I say, surprised by the pang of sympathy I feel.

His arms tighten around me. "Perhaps. But loneliness is a mortal concern."

I snort. "Sure it is.."

Dremlor's silence speaks volumes. I settle back against him, savoring the moment. It's been so long since I've felt safe, protected. Even if it's in the arms of a demon.

"I'm tired, Dremlor," I confess, my voice barely above a whisper. The weight of my existence, the relentless struggle for survival and agency, presses down on me like a physical force.

His hand moves to stroke my hair, the gesture surprisingly gentle. "Sleep, my dear Neela."

I close my eyes, letting his touch soothe me. "Sleep can't fix this kind of exhaustion," I confess in a sigh.

He pauses with thought. "Is it a mortal tiredness?"

Again, I heave a sigh. "Perhaps."

I sigh deeply, the weight of my existence pressing down on me. "Dremlor, I'm... I'm so burned out. Life's been such a relentless struggle that I've lost the ability to care about right and wrong anymore. Everything's just... gray."

Dremlor's fiery gaze softens as he listens. His hand, usually an instrument of destruction, gently cups my face. "Neela," he says, his voice uncharacteristically tender.

To my surprise, he leans in and kisses me. It's not the fierce, demanding kiss I'd expect from a demon, but something softer, almost... comforting. When he pulls away, I'm left breathless and confused.

"What was that for?" I whisper.

His lips twitch into an almost smile. "Just because."

I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It's strange, feeling safe in the arms of a being I once would have feared. This demon, capable of such violence and destruction, treats me with a kindness I've never known.

As I close my eyes, savoring this moment of peace, a realization hits me. Am I falling in love with Dremlor?

"You're still thinking in terms of mortal morality." His chest rises and falls with every breath. "This world you live in? It's devoid of true morality."

I frown, struggling to comprehend. "What do you mean?"

Dremlor sighs, a sound that seems to echo with the weight of eons. "Look around you. The dark elves, the corrupt priests, even your own husband. They all claim to be moral, yet they exploit and abuse without hesitation. True morality doesn't exist here."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I think of all the suffering I've endured, all justified by those who claimed moral superiority. "So what am I supposed to do? Just... embrace evil?"

Dremlor shakes his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Not exactly. To find your center, to truly understand yourself and this world, you may need to engage in acts that seem immoral by conventional standards."

I pull away slightly, confusion and fear warring within me. "But won't that make me just like them?"

"No," Dremlor says firmly. "Because unlike them, you'll be aware of the complexity. You'll be navigating it consciously, seeking understanding rather than blind self-interest."

I chew my lip, considering his words. "And this... this will bring me peace?"

Dremlor nods. "In time, yes. It's about gaining perspective, seeing beyond the simplistic notions of good and evil that have been forced upon you."

A thought strikes me, and I narrow my eyes at him. "Is that what you do? Is that why you're helping me?"

To my surprise, Dremlor laughs. It's a rich, deep sound that sends shivers down my spine. "Clever girl. You're right, in a way. I'm often seen as an evil demon, but the truth is far more complex."

"What do you mean?" I ask, intrigued despite myself.

Dremlor's expression grows serious. "I seek balance, Neela. I fight for the coexistence of good and evil. Without darkness, how can light have meaning? Without struggle, how can there be growth?"

I ponder his words, feeling as though I'm standing on the edge of a vast, unknown territory. "So by helping me embrace my darker side..."

"I'm helping you find true balance," Dremlor finishes. "And in doing so, perhaps we both learn something about the nature of existence."

I nestle deeper into Dremlor's embrace, savoring the unexpected comfort I find in his arms. The raw, primal energy that once defined him has softened, replaced by a tenderness I never thought possible from a demon.

"This is... nice," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dremlor's chest rumbles with a low chuckle. "Don't get used to it. I have a reputation to maintain."

I tilt my head up, meeting his fiery gaze. "Oh? And what reputation is that?"

"Fearsome. Terrifying. The stuff of nightmares," he says, but there's a playful glint in his eyes.

"Mm, very scary," I tease, snuggling closer. "I'm absolutely petrified."

His arms tighten around me, and I feel the tension in my body begin to melt away. For the first time in years, maybe ever, I feel truly safe. It's ironic that I find this security in the embrace of a being most would run from in terror.

"Dremlor?" I ask, fighting against the wave of drowsiness washing over me.

"Yes, Neela?"

"Thank you," I whisper, my eyes growing heavy. "For everything."

He doesn't respond with words, but I feel his lips press gently against the top of my head. It's such a small gesture, but it speaks volumes.

As I drift off to sleep, I realize that I've found more than just safety in Dremlor's arms. I've found solace, a respite from the constant fear and pain that has defined my life for so long. In this moment, wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, the world outside ceases to exist. There's only us, this room, and the promise of a future I never dared to imagine.

My last conscious thought before sleep claims me is a surprising one: I think I'm falling in love with a demon.