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***Chapter Two***
Dion shot up into a sitting position to look around himself. An action that he immediately regretted as a sharp pain tore through his head like someone was trying to split his head open with an ax. The pain was so intense that he barely felt it as he fell back onto the bed and let out a groan of pain. Dion had more than once been beaten into unconsciousness by Keith and his gang, as such when he felt himself regaining consciousness, his first thought was that Keith and his friends were probably still around. Hence his sharp reaction. As he lay there in excruciating agony, however, memories of what had actually happened had come to him in flashes.
When he had begun to chant the summoning incantation recorded in the book, he had felt like an absolute idiot. Apart from the fact that what he was doing probably wouldn't work, there was the fact of his oral injuries and his swollen tongue which left him butchering half the words he was pronouncing. In the middle of the incantation, however, the patterns he'd drawn on the ground had begun to emit an ominous red glow. Dion's heart had begun to race as he felt his room be flooded with a strange, almost suffocating power. Part of him had been consumed by fear as it suddenly struck him that he was indeed summoning a demon. For a split second, Dion had almost stopped, but then, the image of Keith and his friends had fleeted through his mind and his resolve had turned to steel.
He had gone on chanting the summoning incantation for another minute before things started to go wrong. When the book had spoken of soul energy, Dion had thought it was some esoteric concept that was akin to willpower or something like that. When a white fog-like substance had started to leave his body and sink into the summoning circle that he'd drawn on the floor, he'd realized just how mistaken he was. Every second of incantation had felt like an eternity as his soul energy have begun to leave him. He, however, had been engulfed by a feeling of dread like he'd never known before. Part of him had instinctively known that if he stopped chanting, the summoning would fail and no demon would come. The summoning circle, however, wouldn't stop draining him until he was just a husk on the floor.
As such, Dion had fought through the incredible fatigue that he felt and continued to chant to the best of his ability. A minute later, however, it had dawned on him that whether he finished the chant or not, he would die. He had lost too much of his soul energy already and still more of it was coming out. He had felt the urge to smile bitterly as he realized that even in his death, he had failed to get even with his tormentors. At this point, it would have been all too easy to give up and stop chanting. Dion, however, had never been one to give up easily. He simply didn't know how to. Even when it landed him in more trouble than giving up would, Dion would always push through to the end of whatever challenges lay before him. As such, in that moment, Dion had unconsciously decided that he wouldn't die from a failed summon. If he had to die, he would see to it that he left behind a parting gift for the cruel world that had driven him to this fate. A monster to terrorize them just as much as they had done to him.
"You would have failed!"
The words were spoken in a cold and callous tone of voice. Dion, however, barely even noticed it. Instead, a strange reaction took over his body. If Dion had been a cat, he would have doubled in size from all his fur standing on ends. Even as a human every hair on his body was standing on ends in reaction to that voice. It, however, wasn't fear that Dion was feeling. Instead, it was arousal so intense that it almost felt like his blood had been completely replaced by hormones. Almost instantly, his dick rose to full mast. And from what he was feeling, Dion doubted it would go down any time soon. So intense was his arousal, that even the pain he'd been suffering just a second before, had completely faded and been pushed to the back of his mind.
"Oh, sorry," The voice once again resounded. This time, however, the reaction by Dion's body wasn't as strong. "It's been a while," I forgot how feeble human minds are," She said with an air of superiority.
Dion opened his eyes to find a smiling Lythia seated in the corner of the room on a chair that Dion was sure hadn't been there before. It took every last ounce of willpower that Dion could muster to keep himself from jumping off the bed and pouncing on the one that had spoken. She wasn't human, that much was evident at first glance, and yet, Dion knew that no human woman would ever evoke the same kind of reaction in him that the one before her was eliciting from his body. Everything about her screamed sex.
From her darker than night hair and lips, to the swell of her bossom with was bare and on proud display for him. The two orbs on her chest seemed to defy gravity despite their humongous size. She was currently seated cross-legged which hid her pussy from view. Still, from the way her hips flared out in a delectable way, Dion couldn't help but think that if someone held a gun to his head and ordered him not to look at her ass as she walked away, he would die a happy man. The fact that all of her skin was a fiery red color, didn't take away from her beauty or sex appeal in the slightest. On her forehead, just below her hairline, two horns rose and curved backward in a half-moon shape. Her vibrant purple-colored eyes studied him with just as much interest as he was doing her.
On his part, Dion wasn't anything to write home about. He was an inch shy of six feet, standing at five feet eleven inches. His flame-red hair had always contrasted nicely with his deep jade green eyes. His face had always been on the edge of cute but never quite crossing over into sexy. Dion had been slightly chubby when he was younger. But between the stress of having drug addicts as parents, moving to a high crime neighborhood, and the fact that meals were not always certain in his house, he had very quickly burned through that childhood fat and turned into a string bean, tall but with barely any muscle to speak of.
Despite her soul-piercing gaze, a smile was playing on Lythia's lips. After she'd had some time to think about it. She'd gotten over her initial anger and annoyance at being wrongfully summoned in the place of some lesser demon. If anything, the more she thought about it, the happier she found herself with the situation. Given her absence from the human realm for the last five hundred millennia, whatever coven her brother had put together was sure to be orders of magnitude stronger than any coven that would summon her. Being summoned by a coven as she had initially expected to, would have been disadvantageous to her as it would have been far easier for her brother's coven to find her. Even now, Lythia was sure that her brother's coven had been ordered to scour the entire planet for whatever coven it was that had summoned her.
Never in a million years, would her brother think it possible that she had been summoned by a single individual and not a large coven. A boy barely knowledgeable in the occult had summoned a demon lord on his first try in his bedroom. Even more shocking still, he hadn't offered any sacrifice and had relied entirely on his own soul energy. It was a ridiculous thought that even she would have considered impossible before it happened to her. But while a coven would have offered her far more resources to work with, being summoned in this way offered her something that she found to be even more useful, stealth, and time to recover.
She'd succeeded in hiding it from her brother but for many millennia now, her powers had been waning. When her brother had attacked her, she had burned through about ninety percent of her power to be able to so nonchalantly block the kick. It was a risky thing to do, but it was a gamble she had been willing to make. The appearance of weakness alone would have been enough to do her in. She had to make her brother think that she was just as powerful as she had ever been. That was the only way she could have kept him at bay. If not for the fact that the princes of hell were cowards unwilling to risk their positions for the sake of fighting a demon lord, then she would have long since been discovered and made into one of their slaves. They, however, feared the possibility of being left weak and vulnerable after a fight with her. As such, they had stayed away. It was this image that she had expended almost all of her power to protect. This image of a powerful demon lord that could rival even a prince of hell was the shield that had kept her safe for millennia.
If a coven had summoned her, then they would have had grand expectations of her and made requests of her that she would probably have had a hard time fulfilling with the little amount of power she had remaining. Instead, a boy had summoned her to help him deal with his bullies. A task that her pinky finger alone was sufficient for. It was almost too good to be true. She could slowly nurse herself back to full power over the next few decades. In which time she planned to create a coven in the shadows that would rival anything that her brother had. Given that her brother would never in a million years think to look for a single summoner, she would remain hidden until the day she chose to reappear once more. Though it was through purely random chance, this boy had given her a golden opportunity to redeem herself and to pay back all those that had stabbed her in the back five hundred millennia ago. Her brother being top on that list.
While the boy was out cold, Lythia had used some of the little power she had remaining to cast her most powerful concealing spells on the house they were in. With the sloppy job the boy had done with the summoning circle and the spell afterward, it would be child's play for any demon currently in the human realm to figure out that a powerful demon had been summoned. Luckily for them, she hadn't sensed any demon within a hundred miles of the house. Which gave her enough time to properly conceal the house from detection by anyone. To get past her concealment spell, one would literally have to be inside the house to figure out that there is a demon here. The last of her power she planned to use to inscribe a concealing spell on him. She had, after all, tainted him with her soul energy. If he stepped out of the house, he would be a neon sign drawing attention to himself and her. Attention that at the moment, they couldn't afford to have on them.
"Who..." Dion had to interrupt his attempt to speak and to swallow first as he realized just how dry his throat had become at the sight of her. "Who are you?" He managed to croak after repeatedly swallowing.
"My name is Lythia, " She answered concisely. "You tried to summon a much weaker and pathetic demon. Luckily for you, you made a few mistakes both in the summoning circle and the incantation that led to me being here," She explained.
"I felt my soul energy running out," Dion said as the memories flashed through his mind. "How am I not dead?" He asked. He didn't know much about demons or the occult. He did, however, know what he'd felt while the white fog had been leaving. His death had been imminent, of that, Dion was sure.
"I poured a hefty amount of my soul energy into you," Lythia replied calmly. "In other words, I'm the only reason you are still alive," She relayed with a regal smile.
