In summoning desire, Silas awakened damnation.
Silas Cromwell is a Black bisexual plus-size transgender antiques dealer with a passion for the occult and a talent for uncovering rare and powerful artifacts. His business thrives, but his love life is in ruins. Since his divorce, he has endured one disastrous date after another, with his well-intentioned friends constantly pushing him toward the worst dates.
During a seemingly routine estate auction, Silas discovers an unusual 18th-century grimoire. Curious and intrigued, he brings it home. A single misread incantation changes everything. In a flash of fire and shadow, Silas summons a demon.
Bazaduill never wanted love, until it summoned him.
Bazaduill, the son of the vanished demon king Asmodeus, has inherited the Second Kingdom of Hell. To truly claim his throne, he must take a mate and produce an heir. He never intended to find one. He certainly never expected to be drawn to a mortal. But the moment Silas calls him, Bazaduill is consumed.
Now obsessed, Bazaduill will stop at nothing to make Silas his—body, soul, and heart.
about the serial
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Transphobia (Mild)
- Dubious Consent
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Stalking
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Male Pregnancy
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Child Birth
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Blood and Glore
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Divorce
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Infidelity (not the main couple)
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Racism (among demons)
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Classism (among demons)
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Sword Violence
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Murder
- Enemies to Lovers
- Breeding Kink
- Dirty Talk
- Boypussy
- Mpreg
- Transgender MMC
- Black Monster Romance
- Obsessed Love Interest
- Demon Seduction
- Grumpy MMC
There was nothing more sublime than the sounds of his brother’s blood curling screams as his obsidian blade sliced through scale, muscle, and bone into his chest.
His brother sunk to his knees as onyx color blood gushed from the wound and down his chest. His familiar golden eyes glared up at him angrily and Bazaduill bared his fangs at him as reached his handle around the pommel of the sword and yanked it hard.
He kicked his brother on to the floor and it was satisfying to shove him down on to the ground. To have his sword at his neck and his body under the heel of his boot.
“Look how the mighty have fallen, brother,” Bazaduill mocked, flashing his fangs in a feral smile. “Father’s favorite, his golden son brought low by a half-breed abomination.”
Lytar laughed, coughing blood as he glared into his eyes. “You think you have won? You may kill me, but you will never get the throne. Who will mate with someone like you? I may have lost, but you will lose the throne one way or another.”
Bazaduill felt a rage surge through him and in the next moment, his sword was swinging through air and Lytar’s head rolled away. Lytar walked over and picked it up, and showed it to the crowd of demons in the throne room.
“I am Bazaduill, son of Asmodeus of the second kingdom of hell, and you will bow down to me or die,” Bazaduill snarled. The crowd of demons bowed on to their feet.
His eyes trailed over the bodies of his vassals in front of him with a sneer. They may cower now, but he knew it was all facade. Eventually, one of them would make a play to seize his power.
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