Hosting the Dark

Before You Wander Deeper

So… you’re opening my first book.

Brave. Curious. Possibly a little reckless.

Good — you’ll fit in perfectly here.

This story was born from my imagination — characters that whispered to me, scenes that refused to let go, and ideas that crawled out of the dark corners of my mind late at night when I probably should have been sleeping. I write in Slovene first — simple bones and raw feeling — and later I polish the English with AI’s help, smoothing the rough edges, but never the soul. The heart, the hunger, the world you’re about to enter — that is entirely mine.

What You Need to Know

This is an 18+ erotic novel.

Very erotic. Unapologetically explicit.

There are supernatural elements, seduction, mind-control enchantments, characters who surrender because magic whispers them into desire. Sometimes memories fade. Sometimes morality blurs.

Not everyone will find comfort here — and that’s the intention.

If any of this makes you uneasy, nervous… or deliciously intrigued — keep reading.

Warnings Ahead

Adult content

Dark seduction & supernatural feeding

Compulsion, mesmerism, and memory-softening magic

Basically: don’t read this to your grandma (unless she’s into that sort of thing).

Copyright © 2026 mARTyAll rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, except as permitted by applicable copyright law.

This world belongs to me.

Please do not copy it, steal it, or feed it to a demon without asking first.

Now, if you’re still here…

Breathe in. Step forward. Close the door behind you.

The shadows are warm, the hunger is waiting —

and so is the pleasure.

And one more thing —

I may be the author of this world, but I am also a student of it. If you finish this book with thoughts, impressions, feelings or shivers still in your bones…I welcome constructive feedback and criticism.

Tell me what moved you, what surprised you, what made your pulse quicken — or what you believe could be better. Your voice matters, perhaps more than you know.

Now, open the pages.

Enter with curiosity.

Stay if desire keeps you.

But leave the lights on… just in case.

The moment passed—and something broke.

Her body trembled beneath him, breath tearing loose in a sound that wasn’t pleasure anymore. It was thinner than that. Fragile. As if whatever had been holding her together had loosened its grip.

That was when the mist appeared.

At first it was barely visible—a pale breath slipping from her parted lips, from her skin, from the places where he still touched her. But it wasn’t warm. It curled upward in slow, spiraling threads, silver-white and translucent, like fog rising after rain.

Drawn toward him.

The moment it brushed his chest, it vanished.

Not fading. Not dispersing.

Taken.

His skin absorbed it like a starving thing, swallowing the mist whole. More followed, drawn unwillingly from her body in slow, fragile waves. The vapor thickened, humming faintly—a low vibration felt more than heard—as it was pulled from her, thread by thread.

Something ancient stirred inside him.

Recognizing. Remembering.

His eyes changed.

At first, barely—a dull red glint beneath the darkness. Then deeper. Darker. Richer. Like blood blooming through water as more of her essence flowed into him.

He leaned back, baring his throat to the night.

Opened himself.

As the mist touched him, his eyes burned brighter—red turning to crimson, crimson sinking into something older and wrong.

Glowing now.

A deep, unnatural red. Steady. Alive. Like embers buried beneath ash.

Her movements slowed.

The mist thinned as her body emptied, each thread weaker than the last. When the final whisper slipped free of her skin, the glow in his eyes steadied.

Satisfied.

Complete.

He dressed without looking at her.

Her limp, motionless body lay there.