Awash In Crimson Wine Chapter 2 - Agatha X Succubus!Rio

Awash In Crimson Wine Chapter 2 - Agatha x Succubus!Rio

A/N HIII I wrote chapter 2 bcs I was bored and bcs I can!! Hope you enjoy :) lmk your thoughts!! I'm still getting everything together for this fic so i'm sry if any if this is incoherent, i'm just writing it for shiggles.

Chapter 2

The morning sun crept through the heavy curtains of Agatha’s room, casting the space in a dull amber light. She lay still in her bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, as the events of the previous night replayed in her mind. She could still feel the phantom touch of Rio’s hand on her skin, the mocking smile that refused to leave her thoughts. Despite herself, Agatha shuddered. It wasn’t just the heat of the encounter that unnerved her—it was how real it had felt.

Agatha Harknesshad lived for centuries, and with that the list of things that could catch her off guard slowly dwindled. But this? This was unlike anything she had ever summoned, or encountered. Succubi were dangerous enough in theory. In practice, they were disastrous.

She threw the covers off with a frustrated grunt and sat up, rubbing her temples. The dull ache in her thigh reminded her of the claw marks still etched into her skin, vivid proof that she wasn’t dreaming. With a quick glance, she confirmed they hadn’t healed. They were still as fresh as the moment Rio had raked her nails down Agatha’s leg.

"Of course," Agatha muttered under her breath. Her healing abilities had been significantly diminished since Wanda stripped her of most of her power, and it seemed the succubus had no intention of letting her forget it.

She stood, shrugging off her robe, and headed toward the small mirror by her dresser. Her reflection stared back at her, disheveled and haunted by sleeplessness. She could see it in her eyes—the nagging feeling that this was just the beginning of a far bigger mess than she had anticipated. She cursed under her breath and began gathering the tools she’d need to attempt a binding spell.

Rio Vidal wasn’t going to simply walk away. Agatha knew that much. Succubi weren’t known for their patience, and once summoned, they had a tendency to dig their claws in—literally and figuratively. But there were ways to contain them, to limit their influence. Agatha had just enough magic left to do that. At least, she hoped.

She lit a few candles on her desk and arranged a circle of protection, drawing sigils on the floor with white chalk. The room filled with the scent of sage and rosemary as she muttered ancient incantations, the words flowing from her lips like second nature. The ritual was complex, designed to keep Rio at a distance, to ensure she couldn’t invade Agatha’s dreams—or her waking life—without permission.

As she completed the final verse, the room grew still, the air thick with magic. Agatha exhaled, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. The binding was set.

“Not bad for a witch running on fumes,” she muttered, straightening up.

Before she could revel in her small victory, the candles flickered. Agatha froze. The room temperature rose  suddenly, and a voice—velvety, mocking—drifted from the shadows.

"Are you really trying to lock me out, darling?"

Agatha spun on her heel, eyes narrowing as Rio materialized from the dim light, her form graceful and unhurried, as though she had always been there, waiting. Her long, dark hair shimmered like molten ink, framing a face that radiated mischief. She wore a loose-fitting silk robe that clung to her curves in all the right places, exuding an effortless seduction that made Agatha’s pulse quicken against her will.

"I’m impressed," Rio continued, stepping closer, her fingers trailing along the edge of Agatha’s desk. "Even with your powers diminished, you’ve still got some fight left in you." She flashed a wicked grin. "But we both know this won’t hold me for long."

Agatha clenched her jaw, ignoring the wave of heat that stirred in her belly at Rio’s proximity. "You have no idea who you’re dealing with."

Rio raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh? And what exactly are you going to do?" Her voice dripped with amusement as she leaned in close, her breath hot against Agatha’s ear. "You can’t resist me. You’ve already tasted what I can offer, haven’t you?"

Agatha shoved away, trying to put as much distance between the two them as possible. She hated how Rio’s presence seemed to unravel her control, inch by inch, with every teasing word. Her magic flared, a pulse of anger that briefly lit the room in a soft glow. But Rio only smiled wider, as if she was enjoying the show.

"Your little spell might keep me at bay for now," Rio purred, stepping back and surveying the chalk markings on the floor. "But you and I both know I’ll find a way around it. I always do."

Agatha’s fingers twitched, the urge to lash out with magic rising within her. But she knew better. She had to keep her composure. Succubi thrived on chaos, on raw emotion. If she let Rio feed on her frustration, her lust, her need for control—it would only strengthen her.

Instead, Agatha forced herself to breathe, to center herself. She folded her arms, narrowing her gaze at Rio.

"What do you want, Vidal?" she asked, voice low and dangerous. "You’ve had your fun. You’ve toyed with me. Now state your terms, or get the hell out."

Rio’s smile didn’t falter. In fact, it seemed to grow even more playful, as if she was pleased with Agatha’s directness.

"You summoned me, darling," she said, casually running her fingers through her hair as she paced about the room. "You called to me with that little ritual of yours, and now, I’m here. To serve you, to fulfill your deepest desires."

Agatha snorted, her eyes rolling. "I didn’t summon you to be my lapdog."

"Oh, I know," Rio said with a wink. "But that doesn’t change the fact that you need me."

Agatha took a step forward, her patience wearing thin. "I don’t need you. I can fix this on my own."

Rio tilted her head, a small laugh escaping her lips. "Oh, sweet Agatha. You’re powerful, yes, but even you can’t reclaim your magic alone. Not without help."

Agatha paused, her gaze flickering with doubt for just a moment. Rio saw it—sensed it—and moved in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"I can make you strong again," Rio murmured. "Stronger than before. With me, you could take back everything Wanda took from you. And more."

Agatha’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding against her chest. It was a tempting offer, no doubt. To have her power back—all of it. To feel the weight of the magic coursing through her veins again, to command the world with a flick of her wrist. To never feel weak again.

But there was a cost. There always was.

"You think I don’t know your game?" Agatha’s voice was sharp, cutting through the haze of desire. "You’re a parasite. You feed on power, on control. You want me desperate, dependent. And I won’t give you that satisfaction."

Rio’s expression shifted, her playful demeanor slipping just slightly. "I don’t need you desperate," she said, her voice softening, almost sincere. "I just need you to want it."

Agatha’s eyes hardened, the moment of temptation passing. She shook her head, stepping back and glaring at the succubus.

"Leave," she commanded, her voice cold. "I’ll deal with you on my own terms. Not yours."

Rio studied her for a moment, her gaze lingering on Agatha’s face, searching for something. Finally, she sighed, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

"As you wish, darling," she said, turning away with a graceful flick of her hair. "But you know where to find me when you change your mind."

And with that, Rio vanished, leaving the room colder and quieter than before.

Agatha stood in the silence, her mind racing. She had won this round—but she knew it wouldn’t be the last. The succubus was patient, and Agatha could feel the weight of her own desire gnawing at the edges of her control.

She would have to be careful, this was only the beginning.

Agatha stood still, the echo of Rio's final words lingering in the air like the scent of smoldering incense. Her room felt unnervingly empty now, and yet, the weight of the succubus's presence remained, pressing against her like a too-heavy cloak. She exhaled sharply, her pulse still racing. Rio’s offer hung in her mind, teasing, prodding at her insecurities, whispering promises of power she desperately craved.

She clenched her fists, the dull pain from the claw marks still burning on her thigh. Agatha Harkness, for centuries in control of herself and her power, felt more vulnerable now than she had in decades.

How had it come to this?

The words of Rio Vidal, smooth and seductive, replayed in her mind. "With me, you could take back everything Wanda took from you. And more."

The offer was clear: strength, magic—everything she had lost. Everything Wanda had stripped from her when she’d been left a hollowed-out version of herself. She had tried to suppress that yearning, that desperate need for power, but it was there. It had always been there, gnawing at her since the moment Westview had crumbled and she was left powerless, stranded in a reality where her once-great magic was little more than a flicker.

And now, Rio knew. The succubus could sense it as easily as a predator sniffing out blood. Agatha hated that, hated being read so easily. She felt exposed to the demon in every sense of the word. But she hated something else even more: the truth behind Rio’s words. Without Wanda’s interference, Agatha would never have been in this position. She had been on the verge of something great before it had all come crashing down.

The bitterness welled up inside her, pushing the ache in her thigh further from her mind. She didn’t need Rio. Not like this.

But she couldn't deny that the temptation lingered.

Shaking her head, Agatha paced the room, trying to clear the fog the succubus had left in her wake. Every step sent a reminder of the throbbing wounds still etched into her skin. That succubus had marked her—claimed her, almost. And Agatha wasn’t sure if it was out of possessiveness, amusement, or something deeper. Perhaps Rio saw something vulnerable in Agatha that she had buried even from herself.

Her vision blurred slightly as her focus drifted, thoughts swirling in her mind like a storm. She had survived too much, endured too many battles, to let a creature like Rio Vidal pull her down into a pit she couldn’t crawl out of. The succubus’s words were enticing, yes, but she knew the truth behind those seductive promises: it was a trap. Power always came at a cost, and Agatha had spent centuries paying that price.

She turned from the mirror, her steps resolute as she crossed back toward the circle of protection she had crafted on the floor. The sigils still glowed faintly, a reminder that her magic, while diminished, wasn’t entirely gone. She wasn’t powerless. Not yet.

With a deep breath, Agatha knelt and began to reinforce the spell, tracing over the chalk marks with careful precision. Her mind wandered as she worked, thinking back to Rio’s smile, the way the demon had so easily taunted her, pushed her to the brink of wanting. She would need to be stronger if she was going to resist Rio’s influence. Stronger and smarter. 

Finishing the last mark on the floor, Agatha stood and surveyed her work. The protection spell would hold—at least for now. But deep down, she knew it wouldn’t be enough to keep Rio at bay forever. Succubi had a way of finding cracks in the strongest defenses, slipping through the smallest weaknesses.Her fingers twitched with the urge to summon more power, to strengthen her defenses further, but she knew that pushing her magic too hard would leave her more vulnerable. She needed to conserve what little she had left.

A small part of Agatha feared that if Rio returned, she wouldn’t be able to resist. You’re a parasite, Agatha had told her, her voice sharp, filled with certainty. You feed on power, on control. But the truth was, Agatha wasn’t so different. She had always craved power. And now with so little of it left, she was more vulnerable than ever to someone like Rio, someone like herself.

Agatha closed her eyes and exhaled, her mind steadying. She had faced worse than Rio Vidal in her long life. This was just another challenge, another obstacle. And she would handle it—on her own terms. But even as she stood there, preparing for whatever came next, she couldn’t shake the feeling of Rio’s eyes on her, watching her every move and waiting to strike at her weakest.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Her dream that night began like so many others, softly at first, with whispers of familiarity. Agatha found herself in an endless field of lavender, the wind brushing through the flowers in waves, carrying a sweet, intoxicating scent. It was peaceful—a momentary reprieve from the chaos of her waking life. But beneath the tranquility, there was an energy, a heat that simmered just out of sight, growing stronger with each breath she took.

Agatha moved through the lavender, her fingers grazing the tops of the flowers, but the farther she walked, the more the scene began to change. The air thickened, the sky dimmed, and a warmth spread through her body, not unpleasant but alarming in its intensity. She tried to shake off the feeling, to focus on the beauty of the field, but her mind betrayed her, drawing her toward the warmth instead of away from it.

The landscape blurred, the lavender wilting into darkness. Agatha felt her pulse quicken, her senses sharpen. And then, she saw her.

Rio Vidal emerged from the shadows like a flame licking the edges of Agatha’s subconscious. Her silhouette was illuminated by a low, flickering light, the curves of her body highlighted by the silken fabric that clung to her skin. The succubus’ eyes gleamed with mischief as she approached.

Agatha tried to pull back, tried to force herself awake, but her body refused to obey. The warmth that had been creeping over her flared into something more potent, more primal, as she felt Rio’s familiar tug.

“Dreaming of me, already?” Rio’s voice was a soft purr, rich with amusement. She circled Agatha slowly, her fingertips barely grazing the witch’s skin, sending sparks of sensation across her body.

Agatha shuddered as Rio’s touch moved lower, teasing at the edges of her awareness, blurring the lines between dream and reality. She felt herself leaning into the touch despite her resistance, her mind clouded with desire that she couldn’t control. Agatha’s throat went dry, and for a moment, she was trapped in Rio’s gaze, lost in her magnetic pull. The air around them thickened, charged with unspoken desire and the promise of something far more dangerous. Agatha opened her mouth to speak, to demand that Rio leave her dreams, but the words never came. Instead, Rio leaned in, her lips brushing Agatha’s just lightly enough to leave her wanting more. Agatha’s control slipped, her hands moving toward Rio’s waist as though they had a will of their own.

Before she could touch her, before she could give in completely, Agatha felt a sharp pain in her thigh—the same place where Rio had marked her the night before. The jolt snapped her back to herself, just as the dream began to unravel.

The lavender field vanished, the warmth faded, and Agatha awoke in a cold sweat, her heart hammering in her chest.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Agatha sat up, wiping the moisture from her forehead. The marks on her thigh were still there, vivid against her skin. More pressing, though, was the ache between her legs as she remembered the feeling of Rio’s lips against hers. She gritted her teeth, frustrated at how easily Rio could infiltrate her dreams, how helpless she felt against the succubus’s influence. With a groan she rolled out of bed and stood, forcing herself into her morning routine.

The rest of the day passed with a sort of strained calm. She spent hours poring over her ancient tomes, searching for anything that could help her regain her power—or at least keep Rio at bay. The candlelight flickered beside her as she turned the pages, her fingers trailing over spells she hadn’t used in centuries, some so old they had been forgotten by most witches. Nothing seemed useful, binding spells, protective charms, sigils for control—she’d tried them all. Agatha leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples as a dull headache set in. Wanda had stripped her of so much, and without the Darkhold, she was grasping at the few remnants of magic she had left.

She needed more power. Real power. And Rio’s offer still lingered in her mind, tempting her with every passing minute.

“No,” Agatha muttered to herself, shaking her head as though to clear it. She couldn’t trust Rio. Whatever she was offering, there would be a price—one that Agatha wasn’t willing to pay.

She closed the book in front of her with a sigh and stood, stretching her stiff muscles. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the room in deep shadows. For the first time that day, Agatha allowed herself to relax, believing she had some respite from Rio’s influence. The succubus hadn’t shown up all day, and the wards around her home seemed to be holding. Maybe she had won a small victory, if only for now.

As soon as that thought crossed her mind, the temperature in the room rose. Agatha stiffened, her senses immediately on high alert. She turned, and there, in the corner of the room, Rio materialized from the darkness.

“You didn’t really think I’d stay away, did you?” Rio’s voice was as smooth as silk, her figure emerging with that same effortless grace. She smiled as she stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

Agatha’s heart sank. Of course, it had been too easy.

“What do you want now?” Agatha growled, trying to mask the rush of heat that Rio’s presence always seemed to bring.

Rio chuckled softly, her fingers brushing over one of the books Agatha had left open. “Still searching for a way to regain your power, I see.” She glanced up, her smile widening. “You won’t find it in there, darling.”

Agatha crossed her arms, forcing herself to tear her eyes away from where Rio’s robe dipped at her chest and meet her gaze.  “And I suppose you know where I can find it?”

Rio took a step closer, her expression shifting from playful to serious. “I do, actually. But you won’t like the answer.”

Agatha raised an eyebrow. “Try me.”

Rio’s eyes flickered with something darker, more intense. She leaned in, and whispered almost mockingly in a sing-song voice. “I can help you get your power back, Agatha. All of it. More than you’ve ever had before.”

Agatha’s pulse quickened, the temptation curling around her like a vice. She wanted it—God, she wanted it—but she couldn’t ignore the warning bells ringing in her mind.

“There’s a catch,” she said flatly, her tone guarded.

Rio’s smile returned, though it was softer this time, almost sympathetic. “Of course there is. But it’s nothing you can’t handle.” She reached out, brushing her long nails along Agatha’s arm in a gesture that sent a shiver down the witch’s spine. “All I need is your trust.”

Agatha stepped back, narrowing her eyes. “And why the hell should I trust you?”

Rio’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—something dangerous. “I’m offering you exactly what you want, Agatha. Power. Control.”

“And what do you get out of it?” Agatha demanded, her voice rising in suspicion.

Rio’s smile widened, her gaze locking onto Agatha’s. “I get you.”

Agatha's breath caught in her chest, fear rising in the pit of her stomach. She recognized the look in Rio’s eyes, the hunger for someone who knows you have complete control over their desires. She had seen the look in Rio’s eyes reflected in her own many times before.

Rio stepped closer, her voice low and seductive. “Think about it, Agatha. You don’t have to make a decision right now. But the clock is ticking, and every day you wait, you lose more of yourself.”

Agatha stared at Rio, her mind torn between the danger of the offer and the overwhelming desire to be whole again. The silence stretched between them, thick with tension.

Rio leaned in ever so slightly, bringing her lips yet again to Agatha's ear. “I’ll be waiting,” she whispered, and planted a feather-light kiss on her cheek before disappearing into the shadows once more.

Agatha’s skin burned ever so slightly where Rio had kissed her, and as she raised her hand to her cheek she let out a soft groan. Pain was unfamiliar to her still, and the way it danced on her skin paired with the need for Rio’s touch sent electricity straight to her core. Agatha knew this torture was only the beginning, but already she could feel the frustration from Rio’s teasing touch being to take a toll on her body. The worst part was that she knew she couldn’t act on it. Leaning into the sexual desire brought on by the succubus only feeds its power, even if you aren’t reliving that desire through direct contact with the demon. She lets out a long, slow breath and decides what would be best now is to take a very long, very hot shower.

(“sailor song” by gigi perez starts playing)

Awash In Crimson Wine - Chapter 3

A/N chapter three PLEASE don’t comment about how quick i’m updating I am gay and unemployed.

Agatha’s eyes fluttered open to the same unsettling warmth from the night before. She was drifting again, suspended between sleep and wakefulness, but this time she knew what was coming. She could feel her body melting into the sheets, her muscles relaxed, her mind slipping into a haze. The softness around her beckoned her to stay, to linger in the comfort of the dream.

But this time, she recognized the presence. The heat wasn’t her own—it belonged to Rio.

The succubus appeared at the edge of her consciousness, moving through the dark like a flame against shadow. Agatha’s pulse quickened as Rio’s touch ghosted across her skin, the sensation of fingers tracing a path from her collarbone down to her wrist. Agatha clenched her hands into fists, trying to resist the pull, but the dream wouldn’t let her go.

"Fighting me again, darling?" Rio’s voice dripped with amusement, smooth as honey. She leaned over Agatha, her lips brushing close to Agatha’s ear. "You know you can’t win here."

Agatha struggled to speak, to force her mind to reject the overwhelming sensation of Rio’s presence, but the words tangled in her throat. Her body betrayed her—an electric pulse of desire shot through her limbs, making her back arch involuntarily.

"Shh," Rio whispered, sliding her hand down to Agatha’s hip. "Let go, Agatha. It’s easier that way."

For a fleeting moment, Agatha wanted to surrender. The temptation to give in, to feel that raw power coursing through her again, was overwhelming. It stirred a hunger she had long kept buried, a need that only Rio seemed to ignite. But then, through the fog of the dream, Agatha’s rational mind clawed its way back to the surface.

"No," she growled, finally finding her voice. With a force of will, she wrenched herself free from the haze, breaking the spell of the dream.

Agatha bolted upright in bed, gasping for air. The sheets clung to her sweat-dampened skin, and her heart pounded in her chest as though it was trying to escape. She cursed under her breath, her head spinning as the remnants of the dream clung to her consciousness like cobwebs.

She wasn’t going to let Rio win.

Shaking off the lingering sensation of Rio’s touch, Agatha dragged herself out of bed and into the cold, harsh light of the morning. She washed her face, ignoring her reflection in the mirror, and dressed with purposeful haste. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by Rio’s games. Not now.

Agatha spent the better part of the morning in her study, poring over ancient grimoires and scrolls, searching for a solution. The room smelled of old parchment and candles, the air thick with the energy of half-forgotten spells. She was looking for something—anything—that might help her reclaim the power that had been stripped away by Wanda. Every page she turned was a reminder of what she had lost.

But no matter how hard she tried to focus, Rio lingered at the edge of her thoughts. The succubus’s presence was like a shadow, always just out of reach, teasing her with memories of the dream and the heat that still clung to her skin.

Hours passed, and Agatha buried herself deeper into her research. She found a few promising leads—ancient rituals and spells that hinted at ways to restore lost magic—but nothing concrete. Nothing powerful enough to counter the succubus's influence, or to truly bring her back to her full strength.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room, Agatha sat back in her chair, rubbing her temples in frustration. She could feel the weight of the day pressing down on her, the fatigue settling into her bones. But at least Rio hadn’t shown herself again. Not in person, at least.

Maybe she’d managed to keep the succubus at bay.

Just as that thought crossed her mind, the air in the room shifted. The temperature rose, ever so slightly, and Agatha’s breath hitched in her throat.

"Miss me?" Rio’s voice was a velvet whisper, impossibly close.

Agatha’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing as the succubus materialized in the corner of the room, draped in that same loose silk robe, her dark hair falling in effortless waves over her shoulders. Her gaze was playful, mischievous, but there was something else there—a glint of intent that Agatha couldn’t quite place.

"I was wondering when you’d show up again," Agatha muttered, pushing herself up from her chair. She moved to the center of the room, keeping her distance from Rio, though she knew it wouldn’t matter. The succubus could close the gap in an instant if she wanted to.

"I was giving you some space," Rio said, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Letting you think. You seemed… tense." At that, Rio placed her hands on Agatha's shoulders and began to knead her sore muscles. The warmth of her touch seemed to momentarily melt all of Agatha's tension away, and she sighed and closed her eyes as she leaned in to the touch.

Agatha’s eyes snapped open as she pulled away and crossed her arms, her posture defensive. "You’re wasting your time. I’m not interested in your games."

Rio chuckled softly, the sound low and rich. "Oh, but you are, Agatha. You just don’t want to admit it." She took another step closer, her bare feet making no sound on the floor. "Tell me—did you enjoy your dream last night?"

Agatha’s jaw tightened. "Stay out of my head."

"I can’t help it," Rio said, her tone playful as she twirled a strand of her hair around one finger. "You’re practically inviting me in. All that frustration, all that desire… It's intoxicating."

Agatha glared at her, but Rio only smiled wider, knowing exactly how to push her buttons.

"I know what you want," Rio said, her voice softening, turning almost coaxing. She moved closer, her gaze locking with Agatha’s. "I can give it to you. All of it. Your power. Your strength. You want it back, don’t you?"

Agatha’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her expression neutral. "What’s your angle, Vidal? You’ve been dangling this offer in front of me like a carrot. What do you really want?"

Rio’s eyes gleamed. "I want you to see reason. You can’t fight this alone. You need me."

"And what do you get out of it?" Agatha pressed, her suspicion growing.

"Let’s just say, we have a… mutually beneficial arrangement," Rio said, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "I help you regain what was stolen from you. And in return…" She trailed off, as though savoring the moment. "You let me stick around. Keep things interesting."

Agatha felt a chill run down her spine. There was something in Rio’s tone, something beneath the surface, that hinted at a deeper, more dangerous game.

"And if I refuse?"

Rio’s smile faded slightly, her eyes narrowing. "You won’t. Because you can feel it, can’t you? That hunger inside you. The need for control. Power. You can deny it all you want, but it’s there. And it’s growing."

Agatha’s heart was still racing as she stared at Rio, the temptation woven into every word the succubus had whispered.

But this time, Agatha didn’t let Rio close the gap between them. Her jaw clenched, her fingers twitching as if ready to cast a spell, despite knowing she didn’t have enough power to fully deal with the succubus. Her mind was clearer now than it had been during the dream. She wasn’t going to let Rio have the upper hand.

"I don’t need you," Agatha said sharply, her voice cracking through the stillness of the room. "Whatever you're selling, I’m not buying."

Rio raised an eyebrow, her smirk fading as her playful demeanor began to slip. There was an edge in her eyes now, a flash of irritation. "You’re lying to yourself," she said, her voice colder, sharper. "But it doesn’t matter. You’ll see soon enough."

Agatha opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Rio’s figure began to shimmer, fading into the air. "This isn’t over, Agatha. You’re not as strong as you think."

In the blink of an eye, she was gone.

The room was silent again, but Agatha’s thoughts were anything but calm. Rio was pushing harder now, escalating her presence and influence. It wasn’t just a game of seduction anymore—there was an urgency beneath the surface that Agatha couldn’t ignore.

With a frustrated exhale, she turned back to her desk, her hands shaking slightly as she shoved aside the texts she had been reading. The truth was, Rio wasn’t wrong. The hunger for power was eating away at her. Every day without her full strength felt like a slow, inevitable unraveling. She needed to fix this, fast, before Rio found another way to worm her way in.

Agatha paced the room, her mind spinning. She needed more than just ancient spells—she needed a way to block Rio’s influence completely. But nothing she had tried so far had worked. The binding spell hadn’t held, and her defenses were weakening. She could feel Rio slipping into her thoughts, like a whisper she couldn’t ignore.

And Rio had hinted at something more—something she wasn’t saying. Agatha could feel it, like an itch beneath her skin. There was a bigger plan at play, and it wasn’t just about regaining power. The succubus had a goal, a deeper intention, but she was keeping it close to the chest.

Agatha leaned against the wall, her fingers drumming against her arms as she mulled over the possibilities. There had to be a way to trap Rio, to get her to reveal her true purpose. But how? How could she bait the succubus into showing her hand without letting her get too close?

Then it hit her.

Maybe the answer wasn’t in fighting Rio head-on. Maybe the way to beat her was to give her what she wanted—at least, for a moment. Agatha wasn’t powerless, not entirely. She still had her cunning, her centuries of experience. And she had something Rio craved: the promise of untapped, raw magic.

A plan began to form in Agatha’s mind, one that would require careful execution. If Rio thought Agatha was finally ready to surrender, ready to seek her help, she might drop her guard. And in that moment, Agatha could strike.

It was a dangerous game, but Agatha had played dangerous games before.

She pulled a nearby grimoire from the desk, flipping through the pages quickly until she found what she was looking for. A summoning spell—not to call on Rio, but to invoke a barrier between them. It wasn’t strong enough to sever the connection completely, but it might give her the upper hand in the short term, enough to protect her mind while she set the trap.

She spent the next hour preparing the ritual, her hands moving with purpose as she gathered ingredients and whispered incantations. The candles burned brighter than before, casting the room in an intense, golden glow. The air around her felt thick with magic, charged and volatile, as she worked through the final steps of the spell.

When the ritual was complete, Agatha felt the barrier settle into place—a thin, fragile layer of protection between her and Rio’s influence. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.

She stood in the center of the room, her chest rising and falling with steady breaths as she contemplated her next move. If this was going to work, she’d have to make Rio believe she was giving in, that she was desperate enough to accept the succubus’s offer. And then, when the time was right, she’d find out exactly what Rio wanted—and take control of the situation.

There was one problem. Agatha knew that if she played this game, if she let Rio in just enough to get what she needed, there was a very real chance that she wouldn’t be able to shut her out again. The line between control and surrender was razor-thin, and once Rio had a foothold in her life, it would be nearly impossible to uproot her completely.

Still, it was a risk she had to take. She couldn’t afford to keep losing ground—not to Rio, and not to her own growing need for power.

"Fine," Agatha muttered to herself, her resolve hardening. "Let’s see how she handles this."

The next night, Agatha sat in the same room, the candles burning low as she waited for Rio to make her move. The ritual had left her drained, and she could feel the pull of sleep tugging at her eyelids. But she knew better than to let her guard down.

And right on cue, the air in the room shifted again.

Rio appeared, materializing like smoke in the shadows, her form languid and predatory. Her eyes gleamed as she stepped forward, a slow smile spreading across her lips.

"You’ve been thinking about my offer," she said softly, her voice curling through the air like silk.

Agatha straightened, meeting Rio’s gaze with a cool, calculated expression. "Maybe I have."

Rio’s smile widened, but there was a flicker of suspicion in her eyes. "And what have you decided, darling?"

Agatha took a slow breath, letting her voice drop to a low murmur. "I’ll accept your help. But on my terms."

Rio’s eyes flashed with interest. "Go on."

Agatha didn’t flinch. "You want to help me reclaim my power? Fine. But I want to know the real cost. No games. No tricks. You tell me everything."

The succubus’s smile faltered for just a second, but she recovered quickly, her eyes narrowing with amusement. "You’re smarter than most, I’ll give you that. But I’m not the one playing games, Agatha."

Agatha crossed her arms, her gaze sharp. "Then prove it. Tell me what you’re really after."

Rio’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes as she took a step closer. "All in good time, darling. But first… you’ll need to trust me."

Agatha didn’t blink. "Trust is earned, not given."

Rio’s laugh was soft, almost too quiet. "We’ll see about that."