Reborn as a Succubus: Time To Live My Best Life!

Armia lay on her bed. In one hand, she was holding a stuffed lionwolf, in the other she was holding Isabella's wand, fiddling with it.

The golden finish gleamed in the soft light of her room, and she couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship.

It was surprisingly sturdy, as she found out from giving it a few squeezes, likely reinforced to withstand Armia's darian strength.

[Hm, so this wasn't a spur-of-the-moment thing? She had this made specifically for me...]

Armia wasn't too sure what to make of that.

[I have to admit,] Armia thought, however. [It does look... special. I haven't actually gotten a chance to use these things yet.]

She found herself smiling.

[I'm actually kind of excited.]

As she examined the wand, her mind drifted back to the events in the bathroom earlier that day. The memory of Melisa's tight heat around her cock, how they had worked in tandem, her pounding into Melisa from behind while the nim serviced Isabella with her mouth.

Almost against her will, Armia's thoughts wandered further. She found herself imagining what it might feel like to sink her cock into Isabella's tight asshole, to feel those firm kitsune muscles clenching around her.

[No!] Armia shook her head violently, trying to banish the image. [Isabella's annoying. Irritating. I don't want... that.]

But even as she tried to convince herself, a small part of her couldn't help but wonder...

A knock at the door startled Armia out of her reverie. She quickly composed herself, smoothing down her skirt and clearing her throat.

"Come in," she called, her voice only slightly strained.

Darien poked his head in, a folded piece of paper in his hand.

"Hey, sis," he said, holding out the letter. "This just came for you."

Armia took the letter, her brow furrowing in curiosity.

Darien looked down and then up.

"Oh, and, by the way, you're hard," he stated casually, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Don't go walking outta here like that."

Armia's face flushed.

"I- Darien!"

"Hey, you have a crush on that nim girl, I-" he dodged the pillow Armia threw at him.

"Get out!" Armia growled.

Darien laughed as he ducked out, closing the door behind him.

"Love you too, sis!"

Armia shook her head, letting her weight fall back against her pink bed.

[Ugh...]

As her brother's footsteps faded, Armia examined the envelope.

[Whoa... That's one important-looking seal.]

With slightly trembling hands, Armia broke the seal and unfolded the letter. Her eyes scanned the elegant script, her heart rate picking up with each line.

"Dear Miss Duskscale," it read, "I hope this letter finds you well. Our conversation at the recent gala left quite an impression on me, and I find myself with an offer I believe you might find intriguing. I will be visiting Syux Academy in a few days and would very much like to discuss this opportunity with you in person. Yours sincerely, General Neal Ironheart."

Armia read the letter twice more, her mind whirling with possibilities.

[An offer? From General Neal himself? This could be... this could be huge.]

She thought back to their conversation at the gala, how the general had seemed genuinely interested in her thoughts. At the time, she had assumed it was mere politeness, but now...

[What is this about?]

That question brought no answer, but a mix of excitement and nerves fluttered in her stomach.

[I guess I'll find out soon.]

---

{Melistair}

Melistair wiped the sweat from his brow, his purple skin glistening under the hot sun.

The construction site was buzzing with activity all around him, the familiar sounds of hammering and shouting filling the air. Usually, this would be Melistair well in his element.

But today, something was off.

[Fuck,] he thought, gritting his teeth as he caught yet another group of workers glancing his way and whispering. [Can't a nim just do his damn job in peace?]

He understood, however, that he was definitely asking for too much.

Ever since the news had broken about Melisa saving the king's life, Melistair's life had become... complicated over these last handful of days.

His daughter's sketched face was plastered across every newspaper in Syux, and, well, as soon as people heard the Melisa in question had the surname Blackflame, it didn't take long for people to put two and two together.

Thus, Melistair began to hear so much about it all that he pretty much had the whole night memorized. Or, at least the parts that mattered. The king and queen arrived, Melisa sat to eat with them, the king collapsed, Melisa saved him...

[I'm proud. Obviously, I'm proud of her. But holy crap, can I just work?]

"Oi, Melistair!" a voice called out. He turned to see Goran, one of his nim coworkers, grinning at him. "How's it feel to be the father of a hero, eh? Bet you're living large now!"

Melistair forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace.

"Just the same as always, Goran. Now, if you don't mind, I've got work to do."

But Goran wasn't done.

"Come on, mate! You must be proud! Your little girl, saving the king himself! Bet she's got all sorts of fancy suitors knocking down your door now, eh?"

He sighed.

"My daughter's business is her own," he said firmly, turning back to his work. "I'm just glad she's doing well for herself."

"Now, if you don't mind, I've got work to do." Find adventures at My Virtual Library Empire

But Goran wasn't done. He sidled closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"Come on, mate. Your little girl's all grown up now, saving kings and shit. Bet she's got all sorts of fancy guys knocking down your door. Hell, you know, if you'd introduce me, I'd-"

Melistair's fist connected with Goran's jaw before he even realized he'd moved. The other nim stumbled back, shock written across his face.

"You finish that sentence," Melistair growled, "and it'll be the last thing you ever say."

The construction site fell silent, all eyes on them. Melistair could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating.

[Shit,] he thought, his heart racing. [Margaret's gonna kill me if I lose this job.]

But to his surprise, Goran started laughing, rubbing his jaw.

"Alright, alright, I deserved that. No hard feelings, yeah?"

Melistair nodded stiffly, relief washing over him. Goran walked away.

As the other workers slowly returned to their tasks, he couldn't help but notice the approving looks some of them were giving him.

[Maybe I should've done that sooner,] he mused, picking up his hammer again.

As he said before, he was proud of Melisa.

But with that pride came worry. A deep, gnawing concern that kept him up at night.

[She's got a target on her back now,] Melistair mused, his brow furrowing as he hammered a bit harder than necessary. [Every noble with a grudge, every Shadow Mage with a score to settle... they'll all be gunning for her.]

And it wasn't just Melisa he was worried about. Melistair was no fool. He knew that his family's newfound fame could be a double-edged sword.

Already, he'd noticed strange looks from some of the humans in town who knew him, even though he'd made a point of keeping his head down these last 8 years.

[And now, I might have a target on my back too,] he realized, a chill running down his spine despite the heat. [If someone wants to get to Melisa...]

He shook his head, trying to banish the dark thoughts. No use dwelling on what-ifs.

All he could do was continue to keep his head down, work hard, and be there for his family if they needed him.

As he kept going, naturally, Margaret popped up in his mind.

[... Fuck, I need her.]

By the time the workday ended, Melistair was exhausted, both physically and mentally. As he gathered his things, he overheard two of the newer workers talking in low voices.

"Can you believe it? A nim girl, saving the king? Something's not right about that."

"I heard she used some kind of sex magic. Probably learned it from her old man here. You know how these nim are. Always in heat, and shit."

Melistair shook his head, his hand tightening around his toolbox.

[Just... gotta keep my head up,] he told himself as he headed home. [For Melisa's sake, for Margaret's.]

As he walked through the streets of Syux, Melistair couldn't help but notice the lingering glances from passersby. Some were curious, others hostile, and a few... appreciative?

[Doesn't matter,] he decided, squaring his shoulders. [Let them look. Let them whisper. My girl's a hero, and nothing they say can change that.]

With that thought bolstering him, Melistair made his way home, he just hoped Margaret was ready for him. After a day like today, he needed to lose himself in her embrace, to remind himself of what really mattered.

And that was, of course, his family.

[Stay strong, kiddo,] he thought, Melisa's face flashing before his eyes, a fierce pride swelling in his chest. [Your old man's got your back, no matter what]