"And with a vice-like grip, she held onto his ball, or is it balls?" Amelia put her quill down to study the pages of the anatomy book once again.

"Why is this bloody book so unclear on the testicles? Plural, so according to this term, there are multiple."

More pages flew past her ink-stained fingers. "But here it says that a man has a sac—singular. So, which is it?"

The flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows on the walls as she rummaged through another anatomy book, searching for any shred of information to help her write this scene.

"Only obscenity sells, wee one," the bookseller had laughed when Amelia came to offer her latest courtly romance book last week. His mocking voice had haunted her every moment since. How was she supposed to write obscenity books when she knew nothing about the subject? Hell, she had never even seen a man naked.

"Wallace, you eejit! I shall come knocking when my aunt kicks me out on the street." Amelia shouted at the rain-streaked window.

Staring at her reflection in the window she pouted her lips and folded her hands like aunt Elspeth always did. "When yer 26 yer must either be married or earn yer keep, lassy. A dinnae want to house an old lazy spinster, aye?" She sang in her aunt's chirping voice.

That was the deal she made 5 years ago, and aunt Elspeth never broke a deal. Even if it meant throwing her only niece out onto the street. Amelia let out a frustrated sigh. How in heaven's name was she supposed to earn her keep if no one wanted to buy her books?

30 days, she counted in her head, only 30 days until her 26 birthday.

Raindrops tapped rhythmically against the glass, a symphony that echoed her restlessness. It made her mind drift far from Edinburgh's darkened streets. This city once filled her with excitement. In the capital you can be whatever you want to be. That was what her mother used to tell her.

What a load of bollocks that turned out to be.

The hypocrisy of society's expectations was just as oppressive here as it was in Glasgow. Threatening to snuff out every dream of her freedom. The relentless pursuit of marriage and domesticity was like an inescapable trap and it was about to catch her.

She would rather die than let that happen.

Her books had to sell, there was no other option. "Obscenity, sells," Amelia repeated to herself.

And in order to write that, she needed to research obscenity—but how? Aunt Elspeth made her wash her mouth with soap when she found out that Amelia had kissed a boy. God knows what she would do if she asked about a man's testicles. The entire British Empire had to fall before aunt Elspeth would tell Amelia about what goes on between a man and a woman.

There were other options—books smuggled from far-off lands, hidden behind the shelves of dusty libraries, their pages worn thin by the hands of curious souls. But those books could only be found in a gentlemen's club, where she could not get in.

Desperation clawed at Amelia's chest, squeezing the breath from her lungs. Every plan she materialised in her mind ended with her either on the street or in jail. Both of which would diminish her chances of having to marry but also her chances of survival, and she wasn't about to give up on the latter.

With trembling hands, she browsed her anatomy books once again, craving anything of use. When those proved useless, she paced the room, her steps quick and restless, like a caged animal desperate for freedom. It was then, when all seemed lost, that Amelia's gaze fell upon the weathered tome nestled among the forgotten volumes of her study—a relic detailing the summoning of demons.

Its pages, aged and yellowed, seemed to beckon her, as if holding the answers to all her problems. In that moment, a daring thought sprang to her mind.

What if she summoned a demon?

She had heard the whispers of otherworldly entities with forbidden knowledge, that echoed through the literary circles she frequented. Amelia thought it was all bollocks at the time, even buying this tome as a jest.

But right now, it felt like her only option. Perhaps, within these ancient pages, she would find the key to that forbidden knowledge.

Amelia's fingertips traced the words, her eyes darting across the lines that promised unsurpassable knowledge. Each word sent a thrill through her, mingled with trepidation.

Could she truly summon a demon, an entity of darkness and seduction, to aid her?

The room, once adorned with comforting familiarity, now felt alien and foreboding. Long shadows danced like spectres in the dim candlelight, mirroring the conflict within her. Her thoughts were a tumultuous storm, battering against the fragile walls of her resolve. Fear gnawed at her core, whispering tales of damnation and irreversible consequences. But with every passing moment, desperation overruled her hesitation, propelling her closer to the precipice.

She closed her eyes, quelling the rising tide of emotions within her.

In the darkness behind her eyelids, flashes of scenes unfolded—the disapproving glances of her aunt, the condescending voices of the literary elite, and the fading ink of her unfulfilled dreams. The weight of society's expectations threatened to crush her spirit.

No, she would not be crushed.

Her fingers tangled in her dishevelled hair, pulling at the strands in frustration.

Who was she kidding? She couldn't summon a demon.

That was all just superstition, right?

But what if it wasn't? There were only 30 days left for Amelia to make it as a writer, so she already needed a miracle.

She had to try this option.

Resolute, Amelia opened her eyes and took a deep breath, carefully drawing a circle of salt and ancient ruins on the floorboards. She squared her shoulders and approached the circle. With determination etched upon her face, Amelia raised her voice, reciting the ancient incantation that would beckon forth a being from the realms beyond.

The room fell silent as the final syllable escaped her lips, swallowed by the weight of her decision.

A sudden gust of wind extinguished the candles, plunging the room into total darkness. Amelia's heart raced, the echoes of her heartbeat the only sound that filled this void.

And then he appeared.

Before her eyes, a man rose from the circle with the presence of a coiled serpent ready to strike. He was tall and looked eerily human until he opened his eyes. An otherworldly fire illuminated his eyes, boring into her soul as if assessing all her hopes and fears with one glance.

"Amelia Balfour," he said, as a mischievous smile played upon his lips.

She couldn't believe her eyes.

There was a demon standing in front of her. Every fibre of her being trembled in his presence but Amelia managed to keep her voice even.

"Yes. That is me. And what may I call you, demon?"

"Drop the labels, angel. My name is Lucian, but you may call me whatever you desire." Lucian purred, his voice dripping with seduction.

Amelia's gaze never wavered as she met the demon's penetrating stare. "And is this your true form?"

"Why? Does it displease you?" His red hair turned white and his skin grew a golden tan, transforming him into an entirely different man as he spoke.

"Don't be afraid. I can be whatever you want me to be, Amelia."

"I want you to be yourself," she replied, her voice laced with a mixture of determination and curiosity.

Lucian searched her eyes for a moment before his appearance transformed again.

Raven-black hair cascades in waves, framing his face with an air of untamed magnetism. Each strand seemed to possess a life of its own, as if whispering secrets and promises. His features were sculpted, his complexion flawless, as if chiselled from moonlit marble.

But it was the twisting ebony horns crowning his head that took her breath away.

He was a mesmerising blend of ethereal beauty and demonic allure and Amelia couldn't look away, even as he approached her.

"Very few mortals have asked to see my true form. Even fewer remained standing when they did." Lucian circled her, his movements fluid and sinuous.

Amelia furrowed her brows. "I thought we dropped the labels, or was I mistaken, Lucian?"

A wicked smile curved Lucian's lips, and he leaned in. "Aren't you a clever one. I knew you were interesting."

"Does that mean that you will help me?" she said.

A mix of excitement and intrigue washed over her and Amelia couldn't help but be relieved as she wandered throughout the room. "Because I am at a loss when it comes to writing obscenity and I need something more in debt than these bloody anatomy books."

Lucian leaned over her shoulder to glance at the open pages, his breath hot against her ear. "The answers you seek cannot be found in any book, angel. You'll need to experience the real thing."

Amelia's mind whirled as she heard this. Her senses were heightened, every sound and scent amplified in the charged air. "I—I can't. It's not proper. "

Lucian let his eyes shamelessly glide over Amelia's body. "If you cared about proper, you wouldn't have summoned me."

Amelia bit her lip, unwilling to let his heated gaze rattle her. "Fine. I need your knowledge about obscenity—you have knowledge about that, don't you?"

"Amelia, I have witnessed and partaken in human desire for centuries. I know things your brilliant little mind can't even comprehend." Lucian whispered, his voice a velvety caress. "But my aid comes at a price, as all things do."

A flicker of hesitation crossed Amelia's face, but the fire in her eyes remained unyielding as she turned around to face Lucian.

"Name your price," she said. "I am prepared to face any challenge."

A wicked smile curved Lucian's lips. "Any challenge you say? My, my, those are bold words for so young a lady. Did your mother never tell you to be wary of strange men? Because right now, you are opening all the—"

"Oh, haud yer wheesht and get to the point!"

Amelia's outburst brought a stunned silence over the room. The demon stared at her in surprise, and for a moment she feared that he would kill her on the spot, but instead he laughed.

"The little lass has fangs. Beautiful, clever and fiery. How very interesting."

Sheepishly Amelia chuckled along with him, freezing in her spot when he held out his hand.

"Very well, Amelia Balfour. I offer you my knowledge and expertise in the realm of sensuality and desire," he stated. "But, in return, I ask you to be my amtum–mine and mine alone."

Had she misheard him? Amelia's brows furrowed, caution suddenly washing over her. "Your amtum? What does that even mean?"

"My apologies, languages change so very quickly. You would most likely translate it as 'apprentice'." Lucian purred.

Something about his tone brought goosebumps to her skin, so she repeated slowly.

"You want me to be your apprentice, is that all? Not gold or my firstborn child?"

Lucian chuckled, the sound laced with dark amusement. "Such dull things to ask for. If I wanted a child, I would steal one from their crib, and your human gold means nothing to me. Where I come from we use diamonds as daggers."

Hell, she thought. He was talking about hell.

The mental image made her shiver, but she pushed it away and focused her attention on the deal.

"But why would you want to teach me? What's in it for you?"

"Amelia, darling, do you know how intoxicating the moans of a beautiful woman can be? How heavenly she looks when she has her first orgasm? There are things in this world far more valuable than diamonds and gold." he explained.

"I can sense the desire in you." Lucian continued. "You are afraid to give in, but I can show you a side of yourself you didn't even know existed. And as my amtum I will make sure that your words will weave spells of desire, captivating readers far and wide."

Amelia's mind whirled with conflicting thoughts, the allure of liberation warring with the potential consequences. "You're lying, there has to be some sort of a catch to this all. Will my readers become your puppets or something?"

"Oh trust me, I won't put anyone under a spell." Lucian laughed before turning back to the circle. "But if you don't want the deal that's fine, I'll be on my way."

"No, wait!" Amelia shouted.

She couldn't trust this—this demon, but his offer was a tempting one.

If only that little voice in the back of her head would shut up. Amelia's heart raced, a mixture of uncertainty and fear coursing through her veins. Her dreams were hanging by a thread and right now he was the only one offering her hope, even if it felt dangerous.

After a brief pause, she shook his hand resolutely, her decision made.

"Very well," she said. "I accept your terms, Lucian, if you promise me that no one else gets hurt."

Lucian's eyes gleamed with a mixture of fascination and amusement.

"You have my word," he said, his voice dripping with the promise of untold pleasures. "The pact is made, my amtum. I will teach you all I know about the realm of sensuality and desire."

Amelia's body tensed, her hand burning in his, his fingers digging into her palm. It was like he sucked a piece of her soul out with a blazing grip. The consequences of her pact loomed before her like a dark cloud, threatening to consume her.

But beneath all that fear, a spark of hope glimmered.

This was her chance to break free from the chains of Victorian society, to unleash her suppressed desires and seductive words into the world. With a steely determination, Amelia locked eyes with the captivating demon before her, her resolve strengthened.

"Let's write some obscenity."

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