Succubi Chapter 95. I'm Not Strong Enough…
I wiped the sweat from my brow.
The towel was still hanging around my neck, damp from the shower, but it didn't matter. The sweat wasn't from heat or steam. It was from the weight in my chest, the kind that no amount of cold water could wash away.
And then it slipped out, quiet, like a confession I didn't mean to say out loud.
"I'm not strong enough…"
The words bounced back at me from the wall I leaned against, dull, pathetic, heavy. My throat tightened. My pride? Shattered glass on the floor.
I hated myself for thinking it, hell, for knowing it. Because logically, sure, it made sense. I'd only been here a few days. Not even a full week. And the progress I'd made already was… honestly, impressive. Faster than most. Faster than some of the third years, maybe. But "faster than most" didn't stop a siren's claws from cutting into my chest earlier. Didn't stop the moment I froze and realized if Evelyn hadn't shown up when she did, I'd be a corpse.
I clenched my jaw. "Shit…"
The air shifted. I wasn't alone. Not really. I tilted my head just slightly and, yeah, I could feel it… the shift in the atmosphere. The weight of eyes.
They knew. Or at least one of them did.
I risked a glance.
And saw her.
Sera.
Her head tilted just enough, her eyes half-lidded like always, but sharper now, aware. Focused. She knew I was standing there, eavesdropping on their little war council. Her gaze lingered, lazy on the outside but deliberate on the inside.
But she didn't say anything.
And me?
I didn't either.
I couldn't.
Because it wasn't just my body that hurt. It wasn't just bruises or cuts. It was my pride. My ego. The very thing I thought made me… me.
It hurt. Bad.
And the stupid part? The dumb, embarrassing truth?
I liked it here.
I loved it here.
This dorm, these girls… they weren't just some forced harem scenario or a punishment by fate. In just a few days, it felt like… family. A chaotic, cursed, sometimes terrifying family, sure. But mine.
And the thought of losing them? Losing this?
That scared me more than dying.
Because dying is simple. Quick. Done.
Losing them? Watching it fall apart because I wasn't strong enough? That would destroy me.
So I didn't say anything.
Instead, I slipped into Shadow Step, my body melting into the corner like smoke, and reappeared in my room.
Empty. Quiet.
I dropped my shower bag mechanically, hanging the towel by habit. My feet carried me to the velvet sofa in the center—the one I'd been so proud of before. The one I'd bragged about to Queenie, called my throne like some cocky little demon prince.
But now?
It didn't feel like a throne anymore.
It felt like a chair for a broken king.
I slumped down into it, my body heavy, my soul heavier.
"Don't let the mistake control you…"
The words slipped out again. Professor Callahan's voice echoed in my head, that lecture earlier today about failure, about growth. I remembered every word of it. And I couldn't tell if it was supposed to comfort me or gut me deeper.
I leaned back. My head fell against the sofa's high edge, eyes fluttering shut.
Dunno.
Maybe I wanted to sleep.
Maybe I just wanted to stop thinking. Stop spiraling into futures I couldn't predict, into losses I couldn't stop, into fears I couldn't kill with a blade.
The silence stretched.
Until it didn't.
-Click!
The sound of my door unlocking. Opening.
I froze.
Didn't even open my eyes.
Footsteps. Soft. Familiar.
And then the scent hit me.
Not perfume. Not soap. Not blood.
Sera.
I knew it instantly.
After yesterday, carrying her on my back, feeling her drool into my shoulder like a lazy cat. After tonight, her tentacles wrapped around me, feeding me like I was a child she'd adopted. After every little cling, every lazy hum, every touch…
Yeah.
I knew her scent.
And I knew it was her.
She was here.
Getting closer.
And I didn't move. Didn't flinch. Didn't open my eyes.
Because for the first time tonight… I wasn't sure if I wanted to be found.
But she found me anyway.
"Evan…" she whispered, her voice softer than I'd ever heard it.
And then I felt it.
Her tentacles.
They brushed against me. Cheek, hand, arm. A faint, silken touch like living ribbons sliding across my skin. Normally I'd flinch. I always flinched. I wasn't a fan of slimy things, never had been. Tentacles freaked me out, made me twitch like I'd been dunked in cold slime. But this time?
This time I didn't care.
Maybe it was the way her tone carried worry instead of teasing. Maybe it was because deep down, I knew she wasn't trying to seduce me. Not this time. She was… comforting me.
And then she climbed onto my lap.
Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Her knees pressed against the velvet seat on either side of me. Her weight settled against my thighs, soft but steady. Her hand cupped my cheek, warm and trembling slightly.
"Evan," she whispered again, her eyes glowing faintly, sleepy half-lids betraying something raw beneath. "Are you okay?"
I opened my eyes. Met hers. And for once, she didn't look lazy or smug or mischievous.
She looked… worried.
I tried to force a smile. It came out weak, brittle. "Yeah. I just—"
"You heard what we were talking about," she interrupted gently.
I sighed, shoulders slumping. "I only caught a bit."
Her thumb brushed my jaw, soft. "The attacks aren't because of you. You need to know that."
I frowned. "…Then why?"
"The King is hunting all demons," she said quietly, almost like she hated saying it out loud. "And some demons… they'd rather kill each other than feed on humans. It's fuller. More satisfying. Darker."
I swallowed. My throat was tight. "Yeah. I get it. I understand."
She tilted her head, her hair brushing my forehead as she leaned closer. "Then why do you look so sad?"
I exhaled slowly. Looked away. "…Because I'm not strong enough. And I hate it."
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