Luo Ling studied the figure lying on her side in her own bed—no, not her mom, but a non-human entity wearing her mother’s face.

Nearly identical features, yet far more bewitching. *Femme fatale?* she thought—*No, wait… breathtakingly beautiful.*

Tight leather hugged every curve, chest and midriff boldly exposed. Even with that modest, nearly flat chest, the allure was undeniable. Behind her loomed striking wings—each easily a meter long. A slender tail swayed hypnotically, its tip ending in that iconic heart shape. If this were a costume? Way too real.

No cosplay. Something beyond reason. The dissonance in her own body—the childish loli voice, the lowered sightline—none of it faked. She was living something surreal.

And honestly? Having her mom cosplay a succubus with *that* figure? Total travesty.

“Who… who are you?” Luo Ling finally asked, cringing at her own squeaky voice.

“Who else? I’m your mom,” the woman said, pointing at herself with a *duh* expression.

“No way. My mom would never dress this provocatively. She doesn’t even own makeup.”

“And *who* doesn’t know how to dress?”

A chill shot down Luo Ling’s spine. She stepped back. That killing intent—*exactly* like the time she’d muttered about her mom’s fashion sense… and got caught.

Still reclining, Mengya flicked a finger. Luo Ling floated upward, cradled by invisible force, drifting gently toward her.

One hand cupped Luo Ling’s cheek; the tail-tip traced the other. Voice soft yet commanding: “My daughter’s been naughty. Needs proper discipline.”

“Mom, no! I believe it’s you! Please—don’t make me drink *that*! I’m begging!” Luo Ling shrank like a startled quail.

“Fine. Since it’s your birthday, I’ll let it slide.”

The killing intent vanished. The floating force dissolved. She landed softly on the bed—just as when she’d woken.

“You’ve got questions. Ask. Mom’s listening.”

Mengya’s smile had softened—less mischief, more warmth.

Luo Ling hated lying in bed to talk… but after feeling that effortless power? Resistance was pointless. Being lifted felt like grabbing a duckling.

“I… Is it true? Are you… a succubus?” she stammered.

“My sharp girl. Recognized me right away.”

*Yeah, with wings and a heart-tipped tail? Hard to miss,* Luo Ling thought. Science-believing teen yesterday; mythical creature staring back today.

“Then… who are my birth parents?”

“Silly child. *I’m* your birth mother.”

“But—we don’t look alike! Were you entrusted with me? Or… found me?”

She’d wondered since middle school: different faces, zero dad sightings. “He’s gone,” Mom always said—no details. Snowy-night abandonment fantasies had played in her head for years.

“Ugh. Blame those trashy novels. Here—see for yourself.”

Mengya flicked her fingers. The full-length mirror glided into the room.

Luo Ling turned.

And froze.

Same mold as Mom’s face—but *more*. Mom’s succubus beauty was stunning; this reflection? Flawless. *Seriously, I could stan myself.*

Porcelain-doll features hit her sweet spot: sparkling eyes, cherry lips, jet-black hair to her waist. Tiny head-wings—not horns—added demonic charm to peak cuteness. Two words: *Perfect.*

She stood. Approached the mirror.

~140 cm tall. Bandeau barely covering her modest chest. Micro-skirt threatening modesty. Black thigh-highs tracing sleek lines. Elbow gloves. Total fabric? Comparable to Mom’s.

A tail twitched to life—slender, heart-tipped, with a tiny floating orb nestled in a hole. *Mom’s has that too…*

Wings? Petite. Had to turn sideways for the mirror to catch them. Combined span under a meter. *Ugh. So jealous.* She’d dreamed of majestic wings during her edgy phase.

Still… she loved it. *If I still had my weapon, I’d be firing celebratory shots right now.* Too bad—disarmed.

After minutes of mirror-gazing, Mengya cleared her throat. “Done? Still think we don’t look alike?”

Luo Ling stiffened. She’d known. Just refused to bury the hope of staying human.

“Mom… I was human! You *just* turned me today, right? There’s still a way back!”

Clutching that straw like a lifeline. Eighteen years as human. Normal people don’t accept this overnight. *Be normal. Please.*

“No, sweetheart. You were born a succubus. You’ve only *lived* as human.”

Mengya’s gaze held zero deception.

The last straw snapped. Worldview shattered. Stone.

“Don’t worry. Plenty of time to adjust. School starts in over a month.”

Luo Ling sighed softly. “Fine. Guess I’ll figure out life… as this.”

She flopped backward.

“OWWW!” A blood-curdling shriek tore through the room.

Mengya flipped her gently. “Clumsy! You bent your wing!”

Luo Ling just wailed, tears streaming—pure hurt-child mode.

“Fixing it now. Sting coming. Hold on.”

“AAAAH!”

A sharp *click*. The bone reset.

Mengya smoothed the spot. Helped her sit. Tears still welled.

“All better? Still hurt?” Mom stroked her back—just like childhood scrapes.

“Mm… no…” Luo Ling whispered, curled in her arms like a lamb. *This… feels real.* Magic healed the break. No doubt.

Once calm: “Mom… why tell me *today*?”

“You’re off to college. Mom won’t be there. Time to learn to hunt. Or you’ll starve.”

*Hunt?*

Luo Ling’s blood ran cold. *Does that mean… doing… those things… with people?*

A dread deeper than broken wings settled in her chest.