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Summary
Alastor is no fool; he knows exactly where his soul will be going once his clock stops ticking. It’s pointless to argue and, in his opinion, even more pointless to show up empty handed.
He spends progressively more time attempting to contact the other side for some kind of mutually beneficial arrangement, bodies piling up in his wake. While Alastor has never been a stranger to nightmares, the surge of them he experiences with each failed ritual attempt is becoming catastrophic to his ability to function until the only time sleep claims him is by force.
But when those restless nights are replaced with hazy visages of dark hands combing through his hair, petal-soft lips upon his forehead, and the impossible sensation of wings cradling him, he realizes that he has attracted the attention of something much larger than a mere dealmaking demon.
But, Alastor is not a foolish man.
So, when this creature of dreams offers him a deal, what can he do but accept?