Chapter 88. My Alone Time
Succubi Chapter 88. My Alone Time
I plopped face-first onto the bed.
Not gracefully. Not dramatically. Just the full dead-weight flop of someone who barely survived a siren boss fight, public emotional chaos, and a forehead kiss from a succubus dorm mom who was entirely too hot and entirely too observant.
My face hit the pillow. I exhaled into it.
Yeah… this was my alone time. My "reflect on life choices and trauma" hour. Normally, this was where I processed things—where I told myself I’d just survive long enough to graduate, maybe flirt a bit, keep my head down, and definitely not get nearly murdered in a simulation trap pocket dimension.
Except…
I wasn’t alone.
Sera plopped onto the bed beside me. Not sat. Not crawled in. No, she flopped, like a spoiled octopus that had just found a warm rock to claim. She practically molded herself into my side with all the weight and heat of a sleepy clingy demon girl who had no concept of personal space.
Luckily, her tentacles hadn’t come out. Yet.
Small blessings.
Still, she hugged me. Limbs loosely wrapped around mine, head against my chest, half-dozing, half-smirking. Her heartbeat slow, like she was permanently on airplane mode.
“You’re warm,” she murmured.
“I know,” I said, voice muffled by my pillow.
“I like you.”
I exhaled again. “I know,” I replied—quieter this time.
She shifted slightly, pressing closer, her cheek sliding against my shoulder like she was nuzzling a favorite pillow. “You wanna ask a lot of stuff, right?”
I opened my eyes, staring at the wall.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I mean… I thought the only people trying to kill me were the King’s subordinates. Enforcers. Executioners. That sort of thing.”
Sera was quiet for a moment.
Then, softly, “Yes… but also no.”
I turned my head, meeting her half-lidded, sleepy stare. Her expression was the same as always—relaxed, uncaring. But behind that? I could feel something weightier. Older. Wiser.
“There are demons here,” she continued, “who aren’t tied to the court. Some are runaways. Some… got stuck. And yeah, they kill. Each other. Mortals too.”
“Why?” I asked. I couldn’t help it. I genuinely didn’t understand. “Why kill like that? I don’t get it.”
Sera rolled onto her back, arms still tangled with mine, her voice dreamy but edged with tired honesty. “Because they need food to survive here.”
My brows furrowed. “Food?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Before you came, Lilith went back and forth between this realm and the Underworld. She brought food. Magic. Soul energy. Enough to feed us. Keep us sane. But not everyone does that. Some demons? They stay here. And they need to feed.”
I swallowed. “Feed… like—on people?”
Sera nodded. “Depends on the Sin.”
She lifted a finger. “Lust demons will have sex to eat. Literally. The energy exchange feeds them. But if they’re starving?” She looked at me. “They’ll suck a person dry. Drain their life force. Accidentally or on purpose. Depends on control.”
She raised another finger. “Others… the more physical ones? They kill. They eat flesh. Rip mana cores from other demons. Drink corrupted blood.”
“That’s… messed up,” I whispered.
“I know,” she said, eyes closed now. “That’s why we don’t make friends easily. You can’t just trust demons here. Even if they look nice. You might see them as friends.”
She opened one eye.
“They might see you as food.”
I stared at the ceiling for a long moment.
That hit different.
I’d always known demons were dangerous. Hell, I was a demon. But there was still part of me—some dumb optimistic corner—that wanted to believe we weren’t all monsters. That we could have friends. Teammates. Some kind of normal.
But Sera?
She wasn’t warning me like a teacher.
She was warning me like someone who’d seen it happen.
And survived it.
“...So,” I said slowly, “how do you know I’m not food?”
Sera opened both eyes this time. Her smile was small. Soft. A little nostalgic.
“I knew you were different the first day.”
I blinked. “...Different how?”
“Pride demon,” she said, like it was obvious. “It’s in your scent. The way your aura hums… rich and sharp. Hard to miss.”
She stretched like a lazy cat. “But you… looked clueless. You walked in like someone who’d never stepped foot in Hell. Like you were born in the mortal world. Raised soft. Lost. Even the way you talk—no pride training. No infernal etiquette. It was adorable.”
I groaned. “So… you didn’t try to eat me?”
She gave a half-smile. “Well… I considered it,” she joked.
My eyes widened.
“But I passed the vibe check.”
“Yup,” she said again, eyes twinkling.
My mouth opened. Closed. Then again. “You’re terrifying.”
Sera smirked and snuggled back into my side, like nothing had happened. “I know.”
We lay there for a while in silence. Just the soft ambient noise of the enchanted ceiling fan spinning above us and the distant mutter of someone making tea in the dorm kitchen.
I didn’t move.
Neither did she.
But my brain?
Still spinning.
“What about Evelyn?” I asked finally. “Would she…?”
Sera shrugged. “She’s Envy. That’s trickier. They don’t feed like Lust. Not physically. But if they don’t balance themselves…” She tapped her temple. “They rot inside. Jealousy. Hate. They burn out or lash out.”
“And Lilith?”
Sera paused.
Then, softly, “She’s Lust. But different. She learned to control it. Repress it. Channel it into her work. Her duties. Her… bonds.”
I nodded slowly.
Sera shifted beside me, her voice dropping lower. “She cares about us, you know.”
“I figured,” I muttered.
“She brought us food. Even when she was starving. Even when she put her life line for it.”
That made my throat tighten.
Sera’s arms wrapped tighter around me.
“Evan… We see you as more than just the King’s heir.”
I closed my eyes. “I know…”
This whole thing… this life… it was more twisted than I’d let myself believe. I wasn’t just some demon trying to blend in anymore. People wanted me dead. People fed on each other. Some people pretended to be friends—while waiting for you to bleed.
But this room?
This bed?
This lazy, dangerous, sleepy girl clinging to me like a favorite pillow?
It was safe.
“I’m not gonna let anyone eat me,” I whispered finally.
Sera giggled. “Except maybe me.”
I groaned into my pillow. “Please don’t.”
“No promises.”
And the last thing I heard before drifting into sleep…
Was her breath.
Warm.
Slow.
Safe.
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