Chapter 390 – Let’s Drop The Masks
His back arched slightly as the transformation took hold. Shadow curled around his spine. A pulse of heat shimred in the air.
When it faded—
His horns were visible, curling elegantly back. His wings, sleek and sharp, folded behind him like dark silk. His tail swayed lazily. His eyes glowed deeper—more infernal. More him.
And yet—he didn’t feel threatening.
Just... more real.
Mira’s eyes road slowly over him, appreciative and unbothered.
"...Those look good on you," she murmured.
"Thanks," he replied.
"I thought your real form would be uglier."
"It is," Lux said dryly. "This is my refined form. The real one’s... not built for mansions."
"Battle mode?"
"Sothing like that. Too big. Too much muscle. No wine etiquette. Bite to kill."
Mira laughed softly. "Well, I like this one."
Her tail flicked again. Slowly. Purposefully.
Lux stepped further into the room.
The lighting was soft. The walls were lined with scrolls and shimring calligraphy, floating softly with mana. Her bed was round, draped in silk curtains that looked older than so minor kingdoms. The scent of incense clung to everything—sothing musky and sweet, like dragon oil and sandalwood.
"Tea?" Mira offered lazily.
He tilted his head. "Sure."
She poured him a cup. Then poured another for herself. They sat together, facing each other across the low, lacquered table.
Neither spoke for a mont.
Until Mira finally asked, "Do you always hold yourself back?"
Lux didn’t blink. "Depends."
"On what?"
"On whether the situation calls for destruction or diplomacy."
Mira snorted. "You’re such a CFO."
"Thank you."
"But not with won?"
He sipped his tea. "I don’t manipulate lovers. I manipulate rivals, enemies, and people who try to screw over. Sex? Affection? That’s different."
Mira raised a brow. "Even with Naomi?"
He smiled faintly. "Yes. It’s just..." He paused. "Play."
"And with ?" Mira asked softly.
He looked at her.
"No gas," he said.
Mira stared at him for a long second. Then she leaned forward.
"No gas," she echoed. "But I still like to test people."
"I know."
"I have pride," she added.
"So do I."
"Then let’s drop the masks," she said.
She stood.
Just her.
Horns. Tail. Pale dragon scales rippling down her back in a pattern like pearls. She walked toward him slowly, confident, barefoot. Her power shimred behind her eyes—centuries of royal blood condensed into one perfect gaze.
She reached him, close enough to touch.
Lux didn’t move.
Didn’t smirk.
Didn’t charm.
He just looked at her. Really looked.
And sothing about that unsettled her more than any cocky grin ever could.
Mira Xianlong was used to power.
To hunger.
To looks that crawled down her scales with intention.
But this?
This silent observation.
This quiet calculation.
This stillness.
It felt like standing in front of a vault door—sealed, heavy, impossible to shake. And the worst part?
She wanted in.
She needed to know what was behind it.
So she kissed him.
Like really kissed him.
Tongue.
Teeth.
Heat.
It wasn’t soft or hesitant. It was a challenge. A spark to dry kindling.
And—
He tasted like temptation.
Like pride dipped in wine.
Like contracts written in blood and sealed with sin.
Power. Seduction. Control.
Her pulse spiked.
Her breath caught.
She didn’t even like slow burns, but this?
This was her kind of fire.
She pulled back, lips flushed, pupils sharp. "You didn’t move," she murmured. "Didn’t even flinch."
Lux tilted his head slightly. "Why would I?"
She blinked. "I don’t know. Because you’re an incubus? Because you’re horny?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I am."
Then his hands moved.
Just like that—
From stillness to motion.
His palms slid to her waist, deliberate. Warm. Possessive.
"But..." he said softly, "since I’m an incubus, I can distinguish sothing important."
Her heart thudded.
Lux’s grip tightened ever so slightly, grounding. "I can tell the difference between a touch that wants to fuck—"
His thumb brushed just under her ribs.
"—and one that wants to know."
His eyes caught hers.
Sharp. Knowing.
"This one," he said, "was a test."
His voice dropped an octave. "You want to understand . Right?"
Mira froze.
Caught.
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward.
It was raw.
Exposed.
Uncomfortable in that honest kind of way.
She pulled back just a breath—just enough space to smirk.
"Damn." Her voice was low, smoky. "You’re good."
"I know."
"You’re right."
"I usually am."
She snorted. "Cocky bastard."
"Dragon hoarder."
They stared at each other again.
Then Mira’s expression shifted. Sothing darker behind her eyes. Sothing hungrier.
She reached out, brushing her fingers along his collarbone, then higher—across his neck, to the edge of his jaw. Her touch was slow. Curious. Savoring.
Then upward.
Her fingers found the base of his horns.
And yeah—this was different than hers.
Lux’s horns were thicker. Heavier. Sharper ridges.
Dragon horns were ornantal. Lux’s were weaponized.
He didn’t stop her.
She wrapped her fingers around the base and leaned in, whispering against his skin.
"I want to taste you, Lux."
He didn’t respond.
So she tilted her head, teeth grazing the edge of his neck.
"Don’t you want to know how dragon lips feel wrapped around a Greed prince’s sins?"
Lux let out a breath—one that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.
His hands slid lower.
Past her waist.
Over her hips.
Down her thighs.
"And don’t you want to know what a Lust demon does when soone dares to tease him this long?" he whispered.
Mira shivered.
But she wasn’t afraid.
She was excited.
He leaned forward. Nose brushing her temple, voice brushing her pride. "Or maybe you want to lose control for once. You test everyone. But no one’s ever passed, have they?"
She narrowed her eyes. "No one’s ever deserved to."
"Then let earn it."
He kissed her.
And this ti—he moved.
The kiss wasn’t sweet.
It was dominance. A contract sealed in breath and skin.
Mira gasped against him, but her claws dug into his shoulders, dragging him closer like she was daring him to try harder.
User Comments
0 comments from readers