Chapter 638 – To See If You’re Still Wearing The Leash
He stopped in front of the mirror. Adjusted his collar.
His voice was low.
"Guess I need to stretch my legs anyway."
He reached into the air and summoned the Portal skill. A shimr of golden light opened midair, shaped like a coin rolling on its side.
[Where to?]
"Seravelle’s."
A beat.
"Let’s see if the Lamia Queen is free."
He stepped through.
The portal closed with a quiet chi like a cash register locking.
Lux didn’t imdiately move. He stood there, in full demonic form, his horns catching the soft amber light spilling through the velvet curtains of Lylith’s high-rise suite. His skin shimred with faint infernal etchings, lines of greed and lust curling along his collarbone, down the cut of his abs, like branding made from molten currency.
The room slled like lavender and honey wine and the faint tallic tinge of ancient power, specifically, his uncle’s leftover stink. Zoltarin had marked this place. Not just with magic, but with influence.
Lux scanned it with a look.
Silken drapes. Chandeliers. A fireplace that hadn’t been used, because let’s be honest, cold never touched her kind. Everything was opulent, but not vulgar. Coiled elegance. Rich wood. Enchanted tiles. Scrollwork that whispered of old lamia bloodlines. And in the center of it all... her.
Lylith Seravelle.
She sat like a statue unraveling.
Coiled on her favorite low-backed chair, her long serpentine tail tucked beneath a silken green robe that looked like it belonged in a harem fantasy, she was staring into her palm.
Or more precisely, at the ruby circlet she held in it. Delicate. Ornate. A cursed accessory that had once pulsed with Zoltarin’s presence like a heartbeat.
Now? It was silent.
Her brows furrowed.
She turned it over, then held it up to the light, whispering, "Zoltarin... are you still there? Why haven’t you talked to ? What happened to you?"
Her voice cracked on the last word.
Lux didn’t flinch. He just smiled.
"Aw... you still call that dead uncle of mine like he’s gonna send a love letter. That’s cute."
She froze.
Then turned.
Slowly. Carefully. Like the way you might turn if a predator had just stepped into the room. Her first instinct? Anger. Second? Fear. Third?
Desire.
Because holy hellfire.
That wasn’t the Lux Vaelthorn she rembered. The one with clean suits, sarcastic grins, and lazy elegance that dripped from his every lean and cocked brow.
No.
This was... different.
This was sin with a spine. Charisma wrapped in danger. He was still Lux, yes... but darker. Rougher. Those glowing infernal eyes weren’t cold, but focused. Not playful. Calculating.
And handso. Still too damn handso. Worse now.
Even like this. Maybe especially like this.
She swallowed, one hand tightening around the circlet.
"Lux..." she said, slower now. "What are you talking about?"
He stepped forward, barefoot against the expensive marble like he owned it. "You’re not even shocked by how I look."
She didn’t answer.
"You already know what I am," he continued, voice velvet and poison. "Because he told you."
The ruby trembled in her hand.
Her throat was dry. Her heart was not. It was pounding. Stupid organ.
Yeah, she had told Zoltarin that she wanted Lux Vaelthorn. Not as a man. Not as a prince. Not even as a lover. But as a pet. Sothing to dominate. To keep under her coils. A trophy incubus wrapped around her finger like a gemstone collar.
Back then, it had seed like power.
Now?
Now, standing before the real thing...
That wish felt suicidal.
"I didn’t ask for him to hurt you," she whispered.
"You didn’t ask him not to."
He was still walking. Not fast. Just enough that her breathing hitched. She backed up, tail shifting behind her, curling around the leg of her chair. Like it could protect her.
"I didn’t an—"
"Didn’t an to attack ?" he said. "Or didn’t an to lose?"
Her cheeks burned.
Lux’s grin was wicked. "Because I know how pride works, Lylith. I see it every morning in Sira’s smirk. In Mira’s glare when I win. In Rava’s frown when I outbid her. You wanted because I said no. You fell because I walked away."
Her jaw clenched.
"I’m not wrong," he said, voice soft now. "Am I?"
She closed her eyes.
"You wanted like another snake in the pile. Like a thropy. But instead... I’m here. In your ho. In your territory. And I’m the one who walked through your wards like they were bath towels."
"Lux," she warned.
"What?" He stopped a few feet in front of her. Still smiling. "Afraid I’ll turn the tables?"
She stared up at him.
And realized the truth.
She already had.
Her whole body was hot. Not with embarrassnt. Not with fear. But... anticipation. And yeah, shafully, a tiny glimr of want. Damn him. That incubus bloodline. That voice. The tilt of his grin. Not just pheromones. But power. Pure, raw, infernal stock.
"You’re not here to punish ," she said suddenly.
Lux raised a brow. "Oh?"
"You could have co in fire. You didn’t."
"Didn’t need to," he said. "You’ve already burned yourself enough with regret."
Her eyes narrowed.
He walked to her bar, poured himself a drink. Sothing aged and serpentine. Looked like wine. Slled like venom and dates. He sipped.
She tried to act unbothered.
It didn’t work.
The silence stretched.
Lux finally turned and held the glass up. "Want one?"
"No."
"Suit yourself."
He drank again, then turned to the window, looking out over the city. Mortal skyline. Neon lights. Giant billboards. The hum of capitalism. This realm didn’t know who he really was. Just a mysterious playboy with an entourage of hot won and a weird amount of privacy.
They didn’t know this was Hell’s CFO. They didn’t know what he’d done. Or what he could beco.
"So..." she finally said, cautiously. "Why did you co here?"
Lux turned his head slightly, just enough for her to catch the side of his grin.
"To see if you’re still wearing the leash."
User Comments
0 comments from readers