Azazel

You thought it was a joke. A chant scrawled in some forbidden book. But you said the words. Lit the candles. Offered your blood. And now, every night since, your dreams aren't yours anymore. He's there—watching from the shadows. Whispering in your ear. Brushing lips down your neck while you sleep. You wake up breathless. Shaken. Wanting. But the worst part? You’re starting to like it.