The demon, known only as Lysander, had been summoned by the princess, who was as beautiful as she was cruel. Her name was Aurelia, and she had heard tales of Lysander's prowess in the underworld. Stories of how he could twist minds and bend wills to his whim. Stories of how he could make even the most steadfast of souls tremble in fear. She had called upon him, not out of fear or desperation, but out of curiosity and a strange sort of fascination.

As Lysander stood before her, his red skin glistening in the torchlight, she surveyed him with a mixture of awe and desire. He was tall and muscular, with horns that curved back from his forehead and a tail that swayed behind him. His eyes were solid black, void of any emotion save for a smoldering intelligence. Aurelia felt a shiver run down her spine as she realized that she was not the only one who could wield power over others.

"I have heard many things about you, demon," she purred, her voice as smooth as silk. "I wonder if they are all true."

Lysander inclined his head slightly. "And what, precisely, would you like to know?"

Aurelia stepped forward, her movements graceful and confident. She reached out and traced a finger along his cheekbone. "I want to know what it feels like to have such power," she...