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DescriptionYou must be 18 to read this 9500 word (~ 38 pages) erotic paranormal horror short story.
Contains voyeurism, an incubus masquerading as a woman's husband, and M/M sex.
In a move designed to consolidate its power, the Harmonian TriCouncil gave Miranda Nightengale to another and sent them away from Rhira. Enraged by the loss of his soul mate, Phillip Devlin Moreau left Harmonia and sacrificed his wings to absorb the soul of an immortal Incubus.
Intent on revenge against the TriCouncil, Phillip searched for a descendant of Miranda. After 700 years, his quest has come to an end. All he has to do is seduce Fiona Nightengale Richardson to create the instrument of his revenge - a child.
Reader Rating: Not rated (0 Ratings)
His prey drove away. Their headlights illuminated the desolate cliff side as night encroached, the sun setting in crimson fire. Assured they wouldn't return, Phillip Devlin Moreau banished the illusion of a silver Miata convertible parked in the driveway.
Gazing at the unfamiliar stars overhead, he remembered a time spent patrolling the skies of Rhira as a winged member of the Harmonian race. When the rapture of flight meant more than the gratification gained from sex. Before his wings were sacrificed in pursuit of revenge. Before he became a vessel for the Incubus's dark soul.
A seagull's cry brought his thoughts back to Earth. He released his grip on the front porch as his strength returned. Crafting the house and surrounding landscape from the threads of illusion siphoned away most of his power. He'd be vulnerable until Fiona Nightengale Richardson and her husband Lance moved in and he could feed.
Phillip descended the porch steps and strolled around the side of the house to the backyard. Memories cascaded in time with the crashing waves, as Fiona resembled Miranda enough for them to have been twin sisters. Seven hundred years he searched for the descendants of Miranda Nightengale. His love, his mate.
The woman who should have been his.
He lost her to the Harmonian TriCouncil's machinations. They'd panicked at the idea of a Nightengale-Moreau union. The council had convinced her to mate with another and leave their homeworld, Rhira. He'd abandoned his place within the golden palace and forfeited the air currents in order to pursue her.
Four hundred years ago he found her descendants. He waited another three hundred before a daughter with an incomplete mating-bond and enough power to mate with him came of age.
His plan for revenge began with the birth of a child from his and Miranda's bloodlines. A son could bring down the corrupt council and free the Harmonians from the council's tyranny. A daughter could be taught to rule from the bedroom.
Phillip peered into the dark forest shadows, seeking a predator among the trees. Waist high, two amber eyes regarded him with a burning hatred.
"There you are, my dear. Come to me, Cassandra." He added a touch of power to enforce the command. All succubae carried the taint of his incubus blood even if he didn't sire them directly.
This one required careful handling. She craved her independence. A lot like him. He knew once she produced the child required of her, she would leave Rhira and his dominion. Sadness engulfed him each time a daughter of his heart departed.
She leapt across the yard. Her wings spread open to encompass their full span. She landed next to him on all four limbs. Her hair billowed out behind her, a cascade of burnt red. Her bare skin glowed in the moonlight, a pale silvery gray.
He examined her with a critical eye. Her breasts were nicely rounded, her nipples pert from the cool air. Her hips were wide enough to bear children and attract the attention of a male. She was indeed ready to progress to the next stage.
"Fiona's husband carries Harmonian blood. You can fulfill your obligation to me earlier than expected."
"My pleasure," she murmured. Her wings vibrated like a humming bird and the high-pitched lilt in her voice betrayed her impatience. And her contempt for him.
Phillip absorbed the negative emotions radiating from her. Ice-cold power coursed through his body. He raised his hand and forced her to bow her head. "You will only get your chance at freedom if you follow my orders. This mission is not about you. It is mine. Do not thwart me."
"Yes, my lord," she gasped. Her head sagged, and her wings brushed the ground.
Satisfied with her submission, he ordered, "Go, find a place to rest. We must wait for them to take possession of the house."
Wind brushed his face as she flew into the air. Graceful, she arced in the sky around the home. She hovered near the second-story bathroom window before dissolving into mist and penetrating the house. She could have walked through the walls, but that wasn't this daughter's way. She preferred to push the boundaries of power and his patience.
The roar of crashing waves drew him to the cliff's edge. Seven hundred years weighed upon him—a bitter, empty existence that should have been more. Tendrils of obsidian power snaked from the inner core of the incubus soul and wrapped around his heart. "You are not alone," it whispered in the night.
His thoughts refocused on the revenge within his grasp. Fiona Nightengale Richardson would pay for her many-times-removed grandmother's betrayal. She'd provide the child he desired.
He removed his shirt and reveled in the caress of the ocean breeze against his skin. His heart filled with a longing for the sky. Even the unquenchable hunger of the dark power within him could not match the thrill of gliding between air currents. But in the end, his revenge would be worth the forfeiture of his wings.
His knees buckled. He dissolved into a fine mist and entered the locked house. To survive he leeched the emotions of others. At night, he gorged himself on their dreams, reveling in the loss of control by the subconscious mind. Soon enough he would indulge in the seduction of his main target.
For now, he corralled the lust for revenge coursing through him like a wild stallion. It would have to sustain him until Fiona arrived.
Only in the ecstasy of sex could his fantasies come alive.
Betrayed by the IncubusBy: Nicole Graysen