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Deep beneath the sleeping volcano, the chamber pulsed with heat and power.
Lava flowed through runes etched into obsidian walls. The air smelled of ash, sweat, and something older — something primal. Alira stood naked in the center of the ritual circle, her body painted in glowing red symbols, each one radiating the magic of submission.
She was the last of her coven.
The only one willing to offer herself to the Flamebound.
A demon of fire and lust, bound centuries ago by her ancestors.
Now, as prophecy demanded, he would be released again.
But this time, not to destroy.
This time, to breed.
She raised her arms and chanted, hips swaying as energy gathered between her legs. The floor trembled. Sparks burst from the air. Then a...
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