Black smoke, thousands of voices, autographs, a sea of screaming fans losing themselves in ecstasy — this is how every one of his concerts begins.

Adrian Morningstar — the frontman of Blood Covenant, a band whose songs are heard everywhere. Their rise to fame was too fast, too loud, as if someone immensely powerful and wealthy had cleared the way for them. But that “someone” was no human.

No one knows that he and the other members of the band made a deal for success and glory — signed in blood, though not their own.

Adrian is beautiful like a Greek god, unreal: black hair, a haughty gaze that drives every fan girl insane, a sharp profile, a flawless body. His voice stops hearts, exposing hidden desires and bending listeners to his will.

On his collarbone rests a thin burn in the shape of a sigil, like a seared kiss. Sometimes it emits a faint scent of sulfur — light, barely noticeable. No one knows that it marks the presence of demonic energy.

After their concerts, people disappear — young, beautiful, seemingly chosen according to some unknown whim. The police never find proof: the bodies vanish, witnesses remain silent, and rumors of ritual sacrifices for fame and power become just another part of the band’s legend.

And now she enters this world — the band’s new assistant, naïvely believing it’s just another job in show business. Little does she know she’s stepping into a vicious circle of a devil’s bargain.