Chelsey’s obsidian pupils slowly flushed with a faint peach hue, the last shreds of her reason burning away.
She tossed the half-elf carelessly to Jetri.
Wind magic caught the half-elf midair, lowering her gently.
Jetri’s tension eased—just for a moment.
*Damn it.* The thought struck him the instant he realized his lapse.
Before him, Chelsey traced a finger over lips glistening from her pink tongue’s caress.
She swayed closer, step by deliberate step.
Neither rushed nor hesitant.
Brimming with allure, intoxicating all who watched.
Jetri’s mind blurred. Whispers thick with desire flooded his ears; phantom hands—soft, delicate—brushed his skin.
An unspeakable hunger swelled within him.
To Chelsey, his trembling body was a feast laid bare.
*Illusion.*
Every sense drowned in the mirage.
Suddenly, the succubus was against him. Suddenly, they were entwined.
Moans and gasps felt utterly real.
Silken friction, tight heat—every sensation seared his nerves.
His fraying sanity screamed *falsehood*.
But the body betrays so easily.
He felt her softness, her fullness, as if real.
The succubus before him looked docile, obedient.
Jetri’s will teetered on the edge.
Then—the half-elf jolted awake from her bloodied slumber.
Her vision swam: Jetri stood naked before her, the succubus grinding against him.
Chelsey’s scant clothing might as well have been bare skin.
The demon’s gaze flicked down. She noticed the half-elf’s awakening.
A smirk curled Chelsey’s lips—cold, dismissive. This dying half-breed meant nothing.
The half-elf writhed.
Fingers clawed deep into the dirt. Muscles strained to lift her broken form.
Even the finest elven stalkers were insects before a Demon Lord’s might.
*Foolish. I chased her…*
Blood seeped between her gritted teeth.
Scabs tore open across her body; fresh crimson stained the earth beneath her.
Useless.
Crimson eyes burned with fury and despair. Slender fingers dug into the soil, nails caked with mud.
Useless.
For the first time, she craved Chelsey’s death.
She watched Jetri yield—step by obedient step—to the succubus’s guidance.
She wanted to scream. To stop him.
But Chelsey only tightened her embrace around Jetri, her voluptuous face nuzzling his shoulder. She winked at the half-elf, one finger raised to her lips.
*“Shh.”*
The half-elf’s mouth opened—no sound came.
The succubus savored this. Savored performing for her audience.
Struggling ceased. The half-elf’s eyes turned pleading, hollow.
She abandoned pride. Begged the demon.
Chelsey ignored her.
Instead, she nipped Jetri’s earlobe.
Under her coaxing touch, Jetri’s hand drifted where she wished.
Hunger blazed hotter in the succubus’s gaze.
Despair swallowed the half-elf whole.
*“Whore.”*
Jetri’s voice cut through the haze.
Chelsey froze, stunned.
The half-elf blinked.
*“Did you think such cheap tricks would break me?”* Jetri sneered.
His laugh dripped contempt.
*“How many have ridden you? A thousand? Ten thousand, you filthy slut?”* His tone turned icy.
Disgust flashed in his eyes.
The succubus finally snapped back.
Jetri’s body remained trapped—only his words were free.
*“Even your shadow stains my sight.”*
*“You truly believed I’d spill for* you*?”*
*“How ancient are you? Two thousand years? How many have rutted on you? Twenty thousand?”*
*“Filth. A Toverian alley-ditch is cleaner than you.”*
*“You—”*
Plump, honeyed lips silenced him.
His insults hadn’t shaken her—they’d ignited her.
Jetri’s eyes narrowed in bitter triumph.
This was his only weapon.
The alien sweetness in his mouth spun his head. Oxygen fled; darkness crept at his vision’s edge.
Then—a lurch. Weightlessness.
The scent of damp, rotting forest soil filled his nose.
The stench cleared his mind, just slightly.
He saw the half-elf.
She trembled, writhing in the dirt, straining toward him.
He saw tears carving paths through the grime on her face. Saw blood flecking her lips.
She struggled, then went still—mouth open in a soundless cry.
Jetri heard nothing.
This scene, this torment, was merely Chelsey’s favorite play.
The half-elf lay inches away.
The succubus pinned him down.
Jetri couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.
*“Chad…”* Chelsey’s voice dripped into his ear, velvet and poison.
She’d stolen his voice too. No more barbs for him.
*“Without this foolish half-breed, you wouldn’t be here…”* Her whisper carried to the paralyzed elf. *“Should I thank her for delivering you… or loathe her for shattering your strength?”*
The half-elf’s pointed ears twitched. Her sun-kissed face drained of color.
*“Ah…”* Chelsey nuzzled Jetri’s chest, her voice a purr. *“Perhaps… I secretly hoped you’d win.”*
*“Kill me again. Let me taste that despair. That suffocation.”*
*“Chad… Chad! Chad!! Chad-chad…”* She chanted his name, rose-pink hair spilling over his skin.
Black wings coiled around him, stroking, clinging.
*“You’re exquisite prey… and exquisite quarry.”* Her tongue flicked her lips. Obsidian irises drowned in peach fire. *“You match every fantasy. Pity—I should take you home instead of killing you…”*
*“If I can resist devouring you~”*
*“Mmm~~~”*
A shuddering moan.
The half-elf’s eyes turned to ash.
No miracle. No rescue. No hope.
The succubus finally claimed her long-craved prize.
She tasted Jetri at last.
Ecstatic flush deepened on her cheeks. Desire surged, wild and ravenous.
She prepared to consume him utterly—or carry him away.
Then—
Her flush drained to chalk. Lust shattered into shock.
*“NO! This—this isn’t right! YOU! RICHARD! HOW DARE YOU CARVE A TRIGGER RUNE ON YOUR—?!”*
