She just wanted to help her basil plant. He was in the middle of a soul-soak. Now they’re magically tethered by a contract neither of them understands—and the only way out is “mutual satisfaction.” Whatever that means.
Evie Thorne’s dorm room may be cluttered and technically fire-coded against unsupervised rituals, but one smudged summoning circle and a mispronounced incantation later, she accidentally yanks Varrux the Soul-Eater out of his infernal spa day and into her very inconvenient life.
Now the grumpy demon lord is stuck in her cozy magical cottage with a judgmental familiar, cursed tea, and a sunshine summoner who organizes her spellbook with jam. She’s warmth and chaos. He’s doom, dread, and aggressively folded towels.
And the longer they’re stuck together, the harder it is to pretend they don’t actually like it.
