The spirit's Choice
Victor couldn't see, but he sensed her. The air was filled with her warmth as if a breath against his flesh—soft, lingering, too intimate to be that of a ghost. Yet still his eyes remained shut as ordered, his heart rate steady but his chest constricted, as if with each beat he sank further into her presence.
Violet stood before him in silence. Not her true self—not yet. The form she wore currently was a brittle shade, a wary projection. She had never shown her true form so soon before. Hosts burned out rapidly, shattered under her weight. Men collapsed—first to lust, then to madness. She had interred more than she dared to remember.
But this one. this Victor. she couldn't avert her eyes. His features had honed themselves since he awakened the blood of the Celestial Black Lion, jawline chiseled like stone, aura with primal magnetism beating within. The more she gazed, the more difficult it was to fight the pull.
"How can he be so damn gorgeous?" she grumbled under her breath, near enough to despise the way the words escaped. Automatically, her hand reached up to cover her breast—only to recall that she still existed as a wraith of energy. She craved him. Desperately. To touch him. To feel him. To possess him.
And yet… she held back. This wasn't just lust. It was more dangerous. More binding. She needed to know everything about him before she risked eternity.
As Victor steadied his breath, a voice came to him, smooth as silk, sweet as poison.
"You look calm… but inside, your heart is trembling."
His chest constricted. That voice—it etched itself into him. He did not open his eyes. He murmured softly, respectfully, though a trace of nervousness betrayed him.
"I'm not sure… if we're truly compatible. Or perhaps… it's just that it's impossible to believe someone like you would want to be bound to me. It feels like a dream—too wonderful to be real."
Violet laughed—low, womanly, and playful.
"Hah… are you implying I'm not good enough for you?"
The tone was biting, but Victor sensed the dip of her smile, the sarcasm buried within. He wasn't an idiot. She wasn't upset—she was teasing.
"Of course not," he replied hastily, voice louder this time. "If anyone's unworthy here, it's me. But even if I'm not worthy of you, I'll still attempt to do this… because I want this.
For a moment, silence. Then a soft chuckle, almost amused by his clumsy honesty.
"I've had many hosts, Victor," she whispered, and a mist spread through the chamber—violet fog that kissed his skin, sank into his lungs. "Every one of them failed me. Desire drove them, power consumed them, madness took them. You'll forgive me if I'm careful."
Her ghostly hands cradled his head. Then her substance dissolved, pouring into him.
Victor's body convulsed. Agony streaked through every nerve—like claws scraping from within, like a conflagration ripping through his veins. He clenched teeth, gritting them, refusing to scream. Sweat trickled down his forehead, jaw clenched, teeth grinding.
[System Notification]
Great Spirit Violet is exploring your body and spirit.
Compatibility check in progress.
Warning: Pain levels above mortal capacity.
Violet was impressed. He held on. Others begged, wept, fainted. But he clung, stubborn and uncomplaining, as if pride would not allow him to crack.
"Idiot," she told herself, though her own lips smiled. If he fainted, she could get it done without a fight. But because he refused to release.
She drew his mind into a dreamscape. The mist built, cushioning the pain, conjuring illusions. For hours in that false world, she played games with him—teasing, testing, twisting. She probed his memories, dusted corners of his soul. She saw everything.
The orphan boy. The hunger for love never given to him. The loneliness hidden behind enforced smiles. The craving not for women, not for transitory pleasure, but for something solid—family, warmth, a place where he fit.
Her chest constricted suddenly. None of her other hosts were so different. They craved strength, control, constant indulgence. But this one craved something so. human.
And gods, he was gentle. Too gentle. That gentleness could shatter him, but it intrigued her too.
"Perhaps… this one won't disintegrate."
She stayed longer than she had to. Hours went by. She made him dream, made him smile, pushed his boundaries, even let him see her melancholy once. And yet… he accepted her.
When she retreated, her decision was set.
[System Alert]
Soul Resonance 91%.
Host compatibility acknowledged.
Contract: Pending.
Victor stirred. His body shook, drained, his head muddled from the ritual. He did not wake immediately—but instead leaned back into something warm. Skin. He moved, pillowing his head against her lap. A scent enveloped him—sweet, addictive, perilously tempting. He burrowed deeper, arms encircling her waist automatically.
Violet stiffened. No man had ever. just touched her. Not like this. Not so innocently. She should have pushed him away. But instead, her hand caressed through his hair, hesitant at first, then soft.
"Wake up, Victor," she breathed softly, as if begrudgingly kind. "We have a contract to seal. If you desire your dream. of family, of belonging. you need me.
But Victor only burrowed closer, nuzzling her belly like a hunger-starved boy.
Her lips twitched in a weird, unfamiliar smile. She loved men's want, their need, their vulnerability. But this. this filled her chest with pain.
But need took over. An hour of his heat, his contact, and her control unraveled. She bent down, delivering soft kisses on his ear, heat accumulating between her legs.
"Mm… obstinate lion," she breathed. Her hand crept lower, fingers closing around his groin. She whispered softly as she realized the size even when he was half-asleep. "Ahh… seven inches already without tapping its fullest potential? What would you do when you unleash its fullest capability, Victor?"
His eyes flew open with her touch.
And what he saw took his breath away.
Silver hair flowing like moonlight. Violet eyes smoldering with unearthly fire. Two curved black horns sprouted from her head, giving her the appearance of something less angelic and more forbidden goddess. Every curve of her form shrieked temptation, draped in the sort of beauty that didn't exist on this plane.
Victor went rigid, unable to speak, heart pounding. She was—beyond doubt—the most exquisite woman he had ever laid eyes on.
You…" his mouth opened, his lips shaking. "Violet… this is you?"
She smiled, fangs showing only for a fraction of an inch in the curve of her mouth.
"Who else would it be?"
Her voice sounded honeyed and full of seduction, but her eyes. her eyes reflected something warmer. Something perilously close to hope.
Victor gulped, caught between wonder and terror. He still held her hand, his fingers gripping hers tightly unconsciously.
"O. I don't want to be rude," he stuttered. "You gave me this life. You gave me this chance. I—"
She shut him up with laughter—rich, melodic, amused.
"You don't have to be so formal with me. I am desire, Victor, not pride. Don't adore me. Just desire me."
His breathing stopped as she stood on her toes, leaned in close. Her lips brushed his—heat, promise, danger all wrapped into one.
"Now… will you make me yours?"
And before he could respond, she kissed him. Deep. Wet. Claiming.