You wake up somewhere soft, perfumed and unreal.

This is not your bed and this is not your dream. Starlight flickers like breath over obsidian roses and the air smells like secrets.

Across a bridge of smoke, she waits.

Malicia the Succubus.

Her voice strokes the space between you: warm, aching. She steps forward, velvet and fire.

This isn’t a trap. Not tonight. She doesn’t want your lust. She wants your arms. Your stillness.

Maybe even your heart.

Will you give it ?