Bound to My Demon Mate

Chapter 1

Sabrina

“Tell me your secrets,” I whisper, and instantly, I’m reminded why I’m sitting here alone. 

The ancient fluorescent lights flicker overhead as I wander through the deserted stacks of the library. The cavernous space is empty save for the occasional rustle of pages and the soft hum of the heating system. I trail my fingers along the spines of the books, feeling the rough texture of the old cloth bindings beneath my fingertips. 

I've always been drawn to the dark and mysterious, ever since I was a little girl. While other kids were reading fairy tales, I was devouring books like Goosebumps, scary stories, and whatever witchcraft and occult books I could get my hands on. So when I started college at Miskatonic University, a small, obscure school near Salem, it felt like I had finally found my place.

But I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Even here among the outcasts, I feel like an outcast.

So here I am at the library on a Friday night and even I'm not quite sure what I'm looking for. But I feel drawn deeper into the labyrinth of shelves as if some unseen force is guiding my steps. The further I’m spirited, the older the books seem to become, their titles faded and their covers worn smooth with age. 

As I turn a corner, I find myself in a section I've never seen before tucked away in a dusty alcove that feels strangely like home. The air feels different and heavy with the weight of secrets and forgotten knowledge, the books ancient with cracked spines and yellowed pages.

One book in particular catches my eye, a thick tome bound in black leather with strange symbols etched into the cover. I reach for it, my hand trembling slightly as I pull it from the shelf. It's heavier than I expected, and I can feel a faint tingle of energy as my fingers brush against the cover. 

As if in a trance, I tuck the book into my bag and make my way out of the library, the weight of the tome heavy against my hip. The cool night air hits my face as I step outside, and I take a deep breath, feeling a strange mix of excitement and unease.

The walk back to my dorm room seems to take forever, the shadows lengthening as I hurry across the deserted campus. By the time I reach my building, my heart is pounding in my chest, and my palms are slick with sweat. 

I fumble with my keys, my hands shaking as I unlock the door to my room. Once inside, I lean against the door, taking a moment to catch my breath. The book in my bag seems to pulse with a strange energy, calling to me.

With trembling fingers, I pull the tome from my bag and set it on my desk. In the dim light of my desk lamp, the symbols on the cover seem to glow and shimmer, as if alive. I trace my fingers over the inscription once more, a shiver running down my spine. 

I brush my fingertips over the faded inscription on the cover, tracing the strange symbols that seem to dance in the candlelight. "Okay, Sabrina, you can do this," I whisper to myself, trying to muster up some courage. "It's just a little summoning spell. What's the worst that could happen?"

Famous last words, right?

I take another deep breath and begin to read aloud from the book, my voice trembling slightly as I recite the unfamiliar words. The air around me feels thick with anticipation, and for a moment, I swear I can feel the crackle of energy on my skin.

But as I finish the incantation, nothing happens. No puff of smoke, no dramatic thunderclap, nothing. I slump back, feeling a little foolish and more than a little disappointed. "Well, that was anticlimactic," I mutter, blowing out the candles and climbing into bed.

I'm jolted awake in the middle of the night by a sudden crash, like something heavy hitting the floor. I sit bolt upright, my heart pounding in my chest as I fumble for the light switch.

And there, standing in the middle of my dorm room, is the most stunningly gorgeous man I have ever seen. He's tall and lean, with chiseled features and eyes that seem to smolder in the darkness. But there's something else about him, an aura of power and danger that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. "W-Who the hell are you?" I manage to choke out, my voice shaking. "And what are you doing in my room?"

The man looks at me, a slow, wicked smile spreading across his face. "You summoned me, little witch," he purrs, his voice like velvet and sin. "I sincerely hope you know what you’re doing."

Holy. Shit.

What have I gotten myself into?