"Don't say a word....don't scream or I will snap this pretty little neck of yours into pieces.."

Frances gulped, trying desperately to remember which enchantments she should be using, but she was just a novice witch who'd recently joined the Soul Coven and had no idea who'd take her from her bed in the middle of the night.

Suddenly, she felt herself falling into a deep slumber, but her feet were leaving the ground—she was sure of that.

"Is this her?"

"She's the virgin, yes?"

"I guess so—unless you fucked her on the way here."

Emmanuel scoffed, staring down at the witch before him—laying in his bed, her lips curled up into a smile. She must have been dreaming of something nice—too bad her nightmares were about to begin once she woke up.

"Let her sleep," Emmanuel told his guard, "This will get me back into the good graces of his fucking highness."

"I mean, you did fuck up on that battlefield.."

Emmanuel scoffed, "I have an incompetent platoon."

The guard sneered, but took his leave.

Emmanuel sat down next to her on the bed. He wanted her to sleep as long as possible. Once the night of the blood moon was upon them, she'd need her energy.

Too bad she had to be such a pretty little thing. Emmanuel felt himself becoming aroused, but he turned away from her and studied the new army strategies to take down the kingdom.

A little moan came from the bed—a moan that went straight to his cock. He peered down at the woman—barely 20, if that, but Emmanuel wasn't much older—not in their world anyway.

He was half-human, half-incubus—a rarity in the Shadow Realm, but it did happen. He was closing in on 27 when he just stopped aging and had been that age ever since.

He'd grown up with his father's side of the family—the hoodlums of the Realm. His mother had died in childbirth, but she would have. His father had wanted to impregnate a human and he did—luring his mother from her home, charming her, mating and then..she died.

As much as he wanted to hate his father, he couldn't.

Or maybe he did, but he didn't want to admit he was just like him.

"Hello..?"

Emmanuel looked down at the little witch who's dark brown hair and the biggest almond colored eyes he'd ever seen widened even more as she wiped the sleep from them.

Startled, she gasped and sat up quickly, wringing her hands and trying her best to enchant Emmanuel.

"Are you new at this?"

"W-what?"

"You can't seem to get your spells straight..."

"I—I...who are you?!"

"Your worst nightmare..."

She frowned, the effect lost on her.

Emmanuel sighed. He'd always wanted to use that line and now she'd ruined it.

"What's your name?"

"Frances Banks and you're an incubus!"

Emmanuel snickered, "There she is! The little witch is coming to life now..."

Frances looked him up and down--his light hair and muscled body loomed over her. The big dark hazel eyes were like embers of fire staring into her sou

"I thought incubi were ugly.."

Emmanuel smirked, "Are you saying I'm not?"

His lean body and broad shoulders, dirty blonde hair and dark brown eyes with the envied eyelashes were not lost on Frances. He was bigger than what she'd expected—a tank, really.

"My name is Emmanuel, but that's all you're getting for now. Do you need to drink? Use the loo?"

"Where am I?"

"The Badlands..."

Frances tried to move, but Emmanuel held her down. She struggled until getting up the courage to chant something Emmanuel didn't understand. Whatever she said caused him to crumple over in pain.

"Let me go!"

Frances hopped out of the bed and raced for the door, but Emmanuel caught her by the waist and dragged her kicking and screaming to the bed again.

"What am I doing here?! I want to go home!"

Emmanuel whirled her around and pulled her into his chest, both of them breathing heavily—the scent of her intoxicating every fiber of his being.

"You are home."