Her (Un)beloved Ifrit

Gasping, jerking up, arching on the bed, her clenched fingers—twisted by convulsions—gripped the torn-up bedding. She choked, sat up, touched her neck with her fingers… No. Nothing was there—her neck was completely clean, smooth. Under her fingers she felt silky skin without a single flaw. Then why did it feel as if someone was squeezing her with a steel grip?
She sensed that the Beast, wearing a human form, had come hunting. And soon it would catch its prey. Claim me as its own.

I didn’t remember who I was, or my name, or what had happened to me. I came to in a hospital, burning with fear and horror. Knowing that sooner or later, the Beast would appear… claim its rights…

In my dreams I heard its hoarse, commanding voice—sending chills down my spine. “My saera!”