I prayed for her once.
Not to gods. Never to them. But to fire. To storm. To the endless hunger that coils through the dark. I begged for a companion who would not shatter when I touched her, who would not die when I loved her too hard.
Centuries passed, and I thought the fire had ignored me.
And then she was born.
My little storm. The girl who looked at me and saw not a monster, but a man. The one who carried my name in her blood before she ever spoke it.
Tonight, she gives herself to me fully for the first time. Tonight, I taste what I was promised. Not in fragments, not in restraint - but whole.
And I know this truth before it begins: I will never be done with her.
YOU ARE READING
The Mara Cycle: Feeding Mochus
FantasyFEEDING MOCHUS (The Mara Cycle, Book Two) follows Book One, Possession. Mara has accepted her new life and role as a demon and crossed the threshold into Sarmeth (where demons originate) expecting monsters. Instead, she found a home. As she learns t...
