She listen's to him

His fingers hovered just above the journal, though he never touched it. It glowed faintly under his presence, pulsing with the same dark rhythm that now seemed to beat in her chest.

Lila stood still—still bare, still flushed, still changed—yet her fear gave way to something else as his voice slid through her like silk: curiosity, hunger, temptation. She could almost feel the weight of possibility pressing down on her like a warm, invisible hand.

“Show me,” she said, her voice hoarse.

The incubus smiled slowly, wickedly, and stepped behind her, close enough that she could feel his breath at her neck. “Now you’re learning.”

He guided her hands back to the journal, his fingers ghosting over hers. “Think bigger. Think deeper. The body was your first instinct. Good. Primal. But what if you could write desire itself? Obedience. Obsession. Want. You’ve only been scratching the surface.”

Lila swallowed, throat dry, blood humming beneath her skin. Her fingers trembled as she gripped the pen again.

“Try this,” he murmured, lips near her ear. “Write: Anyone who hears my voice will crave me.”

She hesitated—then the pen moved, almost on its own, dancing with her breathless heartbeat.

Anyone who hears my voice will crave me.

The ink shimmered. Dried.

And the moment it did, the incubus let out a soft, amused breath. “Say something.”

Lila turned slightly, eyes narrowed. “What kind of—”

His pupils dilated instantly. His nostrils flared. His grin broke, ragged and sharp.

“Well now,” he growled, licking his lower lip, “that works better than I expected.”

She stepped back, heart pounding.

“Careful,” he warned, voice thick with lust, “that kind of power is… dangerous. Delicious. Addicting.”

She looked down at the journal. Her pulse raced in her throat. The incubus’s eyes never left her.

“What else can I write?” she whispered.

He leaned in, breath curling hot against her collarbone. “Anything.”