Deal With The Devil

Deal With The Devil

Torya · Ongoing · 44.5k Words

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Introduction

"Devil?" I watch as his red eyes light up in amusement, his fangs gleaming in the moonlit night before he answers, grinning. "I like the sound of that."

~

Solaris Mont's life was the normal and average everyday human teenager life until one night when she goes camping with her family, they are attacked by a group of travelling vampires and while the rest of her family is dead, she is the only one alive.

Not as a human anymore but a transitioning vampire and everyone knew that blood like hers were the type that was sort after the most.

Knowing she would be killed eventually, she decides to do everything she's wanted on her bucket list but all of this involves money, and this is where the Vampire Lord, Theon Vasilakis comes in.

He swears to give her everything she would want and keep her existence a secret only if she swears in return to let him be by her side as she does all of this, while drinking her blood whenever he wanted.

Solaris knows more than anyone else after the tragedy that had befallen her not to trust the words of his kind, but why does it feel like he is the only one that she can?

Chapter 1

"You really should be more careful." The voice sounds ancient, raw with power and an elegance that has me freezing even though I should be running as far away from it as possible. "Your blood is fresh enough to alert anyone within a hundred mile radius on where you are."

He's gotten close enough for me to see his face and the moment I do, my heart almost drops down to my stomach.

He is tall. Horrendously so, and his hair is in such a pitch black state that it blends with the darkness easily but I spot it easily because it covers some parts of his face, like a veil while his eyes... They're a glowing red, settling on me with emotions I knew quite well.

Desire.

And what made it worse? I knew more than anyone else that red eyes meant that him, whoever he was, was a pure blood. The highest of any Vampire rank.

Shit. Shit. Fuck.

He stops only a few inches away from me as an amused look comes to his face. It's like staring into one of the many sculptures I've seen in my books. It looks like it had been sculpted into divine proportions, his jawline angled so perfectly that I know fully well that if I dared trail my hand on it, I would end up getting cut, his eyes in slits that seemed to stare down at me like a god expectant of entertainment from a mortal, and his nose, straight and regal.

I will not speak of his lips. There would be no need for me to torture myself further.

"You're not scared." He says this not as a statement but a fact. I say nothing and watch him slowly go to his knees, a hand of his hand stretched out as he looks at me, saying with a voice that sounds like a Master speaking to its pet. "You're going to bleed to death if I don't stop it."

I don't say a word. Perhaps, I should die. I don't know why he hasn't attacked me yet. He's supposed to but if he doesn't, I know what he probably wants. I know what his kind does. They keep people like me as a snack they fed till it was about to deplete and recharged me again.

I'd rather bleed out than turn into a Capri sun.

"Do you wish to die?" He asks. I nod. The amusement on his face grows and he grins now. I see his fangs and I swallow. "As your Lord, it wouldn't be proper if I let you die, would it?"

I frown at him. He notices this and chuckles. "I promise it won't hurt." And after that, reaches out for my leg. I wince when he raises my pants leg up. I don't need to look to see the big gash there. It's almost as if I can feel my life leaving my body as it flows out but I don't care.

I don't really care for a lot of things, found it distracting, and yet, for some reason, my eyes are on the male in front of me. What could he possibly want from me? Your blood, my brain says in a duh tone, but I ignore it's sarcasm, keeping my eyes fixed on him though they widen significantly when I watch him lean close to the wound and trail his tongue over the cut.

I am not the type to feel things... easily, but the sensation is ticklish, like my nerves were bristling with electricity and travelling straight to my core and the blissful look on his Greek god looking face wasn't helping.

When he pulls away, I don't feel my blood trailing out of my wound anymore and when he looks at me, I notice the red liquid tainting his lower lips as he asks, "Would you like me to help with your pulsing pussy too?"

My brain suddenly goes blank at his words because no one has ever spoken that way to me. He didn't say it flirtingly. He spoke like he would happily do it without asking anything in return and my mouth finally works, "No, thank you."

"Ah, so you do speak." He says this with a smile and rises from the floor. I don't think he knows what personal space is because he gets closer, and poor me, who's leaning unto a tree bark for support can't seem to escape. "And your voice is quite lovely. You should please use it consistently."

Why was he so fucking polite? "What do you want from me?"

I don't know how I keep shocking him, but I do. His eyebrows knit at my words and his hand reach out to my face but before he gets close, I snap my teeth at him. I should be more careful with my... Animal like instincts but he doesn't seem to mind it. Instead, he's smiling at what I had done and says softly, "What can you offer me?"

"Nothing." I say, and it's true. There's nothing I could give.

His red eyes glow. "Now, you know that's not true."

Of course. My blood. How could I forget that? Well, it wasn't fair, was it? I didn't ask to be bitten and not die. If anything, I want to die. Life is stressful and I am extremely lazy, terribly so. It is why I have not a single thing I can say I am glad I have done before he takes me away and turns me into his personal milkshake.

I regret that a little. I should have set the school on fire when I had the chance.

"You do that a lot." He points out. "Think in your head instead of speaking. I wonder why that is."

"Because I've never had to speak to people." I answer, because it's not hard to and it is true. I was always so caught up in my room reading or discovering things, or studying, not that I would call myself a nerd. I wasn't good at anything, talk less of being one.

"For a human, you are..." He seems to look for the right word, and when he does find it, I'm the one now surprised. "Interesting."

Usually, I hear unstable, deranged, crazy and a freak. This is new. I don't like it. I don't like him. How he won't move away from me. How's he refusing to behave like other vampires that I know (I don't know any). And why won't he just let me go?

My stomach grumbles and immediately, his eyes go to it. I say nothing about it and place my hand over it, rubbing it softly. Of course, out of all the times it could disgrace me, it's now. Thankfully, he doesn't mention it and looks back at it then asks, "Isn't there something that you would want to do while you are alive right now? Anything?"

"I've never tasted caviar." I don't know why I say that but I do. He looks genuinely confused at my response but I don't try to correct him. Instead, I think hard on everything else. "And I'd like to try bungee jumping and let out the parachute ten minutes before I land. I'd also... Well, I'll like to lay on silk for a while. And of course, I'd like to find out why women enjoy being penetrated during sex when the clit is clearly outside. I could never understand it." Then I sigh, "But it's all expensive."

"The last one is not." He points out.

I glare at him. Of course it is. What if I realized I like being penetrated and get addicted? "It's expensive."

He chuckles now. "Of course," Then I see it. The wicked/mischievous glint that comes to his eyes (because I can't tell the difference to be honest) as he says, "What if we make a deal then?"

I scoff. "Why will I make a deal with the devil?"

"Devil?" I watch as his red eyes light up in amusement, his fangs gleaming in the moonlit night before he answers, grinning. "I like the sound of that."

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