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"I can promise you that you do in fact have the gift of magic buried inside you," Deimos finally said.
"How can you be sure?"
"You wouldn't have been able to enter this room if you weren't capable of witchcraft."
I reeled back, both in surprise and confusion. Before I got the chance to ask what he meant, the answer dawned on me, and I looked back at the double doors. "The runes."
"Yes," Deimos confirmed. "The runes are a protection spell, warding off any intruders who aren't gifted with magic. The fact you were able to cross over without the runes blocking your path confirms you are, indeed, a witch, Antonia."
The truth of his words grabbed me by the throat, blocking the air flow and leaving me to choke on the reality of what I dreaded most. Iwasa witch. My family were witches. Everyone in Salem was right about me. I looked down at my hands and shuddered, no longer able to recognize them as my own. I came to Salem to search for answers about my family, and this was the result. I never imagined this would be the way to unveil the truth of my ancestry. I didn't know who I was anymore. I was no longer Bal's wife. I was no longer the Antonia I thought I was before I got married. Now I was someone entirely new.
Who the fuck am I?
"No," I managed to whisper before covering my mouth with my hands to stifle the sobs that burst out of me. My eyes squeezing shut as fresh tears fell from my eyes.
"Why are you crying, Antonia?" Deimos asked me.
For a brief moment, I forgot all about him. I couldn't imagine what he thought of me, in his room having a panic attack over me confirming that my worst nightmare had come true. I was a fucking witch. I was evil and vile, just like the people of Salem accused me of being. "I-I'm a monster," I said in a shaky tone.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because I'm a witch!" I screamed, then waved to the door behind me for emphasis. "You said so yourself, I'm a witch! I'm a monster! Everybody was right about me all along. I can't…" I took a deep breath to try and compose myself before I continued speaking. "I can't believe that all the stories I was told about my family were real. The women in my family were all witches, weren't they?"
"Yes," I heard Deimos say. "I know they were witches, because I was the one who taught them the art of magic."
I froze at that. "You did?"
"I did, just as I plan to teach you magic as well."
"Woah, woah, woah!" I held up my hands in front of me and took two steps back. "I did not agree to start taking magic lessons. Sorry, but I want no part of this."
"Oh? Is that right?"
"It is,” I snapped, making sure I got my point across, so there’d be no confusion. “I'm sorry you went through all the trouble of bringing me here, Deimos—LordDeimos—but I want no part of this."
"You say that as if you have a choice in the matter, my dear. You agreed to be mine if I saved you from the fire. Now you're in debt to me." The way he said that, the deep, sinister bravado of his voice, shook me to my core. This was no ordinary man I was dealing with; this was a devil. He was the one who taught magic to my ancestors and was well equipped in magic himself if he was still able to make those shadowy limbs of his. Not to mention haunting me in the comfort of my own home. Just how powerful was Lord Deimos?
"There should still be a choice," I fired back, finding some courage in me but not enough to rid the fear of what this being could do to me.
"Hmmm." Deimos hummed as if he was thinking about my argument. "Fair enough. How about this; you learn magic and then you won't have to die. How about that?"
"Big talk for someone hiding in the dark instead of facing me like a real man," I blurted out the words before I had the time to think it over. My eyes widened at my stupidity, all while Deimos laughed in response.
"So, the little witch has some bite to her after all." Deimos sounded amused. "Keep that fire inside you, and you might to able to survive living here."
Deimos began muttering something under his breath, a spell if I had to guess. Suddenly the shadows surrounding his bed began to thicken and wrap themselves around the hunched over figure on the bed. It stretched over the bed then dove for the floor, vanishing in an instant only to shoot up from the ground in front of me. I shrieked, pressing myself back as the shadows shot up like a volcano erupting, molding itself and taking on a humanoid shape. Once it was complete, the shadows pulled back and sank back into the ground, leaving a tall, muscular figure standing before me with glowing red eyes.
My mouth parted in an "o" shape as I took in the demon standing before me. It had the features of a male with broad shoulders and bulging veins running down the arms. Rippling abs, thick pecs, and firm thighs. His fingers were long with jagged tipped talons for fingernails. His shoulders had rows of spikes protruding from the skin. His hair was long and went past his shoulders. On top of his head was a two set of horns that curved back. The lower set looped like a ram while the upper set pointed upward. As I looked down, I blushed, now realizing the figure was stark naked. His cock was soft yet thick with low hanging balls. Why I was imagining how long it would be when aroused was beyond me.
"Is this more pleasing for you, my dear? Having me face you in person?" Deimos asked in amusement while I stood there gaping like a fish gasping for air.
I wondered several times since that night what my shadow lover could potentially look like, but nothing prepared me for actually seeing him in person. I was facing a real-life demon. A devil, rather than a hellhound who still could resemble human. While Deimos had a humanoid appearance, he definitely stood out as the monster he truly was. Despite knowing that, I couldn't find it in me to look away.
Maybe it was the shock from everything that transpired in the last twenty-four hours, but I had to admit he was visually appealing to look at. This was how I knew I had bad taste in men, I always picked the ones that were no good for me. Why the hell—literally—would I consider a devil to be attractive? I was so enraptured with his beauty that I missed the hand that reached up to wrap his fingers around my neck. My body stiffened but he wasn't strangling me. He was only making sure I wouldn't move.
"I will say this one last time." Deimos leaned down and growled in my ear, "You will be learning magic, Antonia. If you do as I say and work hard on your studies, only then will I consider setting you free."
Why was it so important for him to teach me magic? What was his motivation? "You'dconsidersetting me free.” I pointed out. “That's not a guarantee."
