Chapter 113 The Audacity of an Incubus
Celeste:
“What are you doing?”
My voice cut through the corridor the moment I stepped forward, placing myself squarely in the doorway, blocking her path without hesitation.
The black Incubus stopped.
Nyxara.
She didn’t look surprised. If anything — she looked amused. Her eyes dragged slowly over me, from head to toe, deliberate and unapologetic, before one brow arched slightly.
“And you are?” she asked, her tone cool, edged with something mocking.
My jaw tightened. “The Luna isn’t feeling well,” I said sharply, not bothering to hide the authority in my voice. “You can come back later.”
She inhaled slowly, deeply, like she was tasting the air itself, then let it out just as slowly. Silence stretched, heavy. Then she stepped forward. I didn’t move.
“Move,” she said simply.
“No.”
The word came out colder than I expected, my hand pressing lightly against the doorframe as I held my ground. “The Luna needs rest. I won’t have anyone disturbing her right now.”
For a moment nothing happened. Then Nyxara smiled. Not kindly. Not politely. Something darker.
“Wrong answer,” she said softly.
The next second happened too fast. A sharp crack split the air. My head snapped to the side before I even registered the movement, a burst of heat exploding across my cheek as her palm connected with my face. The force of it staggered me half a step back, my vision blurring for a split second.
I barely recovered before something coiled around my waist. Her tail. Dark, sleek, and fast. It lashed sharply, striking across my side with enough force to make the breath hitch in my chest.
“Don’t try me,” Nyxara said, her voice dropping, no longer amused. “You don’t have the rank — or the strength — for that mistake.”
My fingers curled tightly at my sides, nails biting into my palms as I forced myself to stay upright. I could feel the sting on my face. The heat. The humiliation. I lifted my gaze back to her slowly. Measured. Careful.
And for the first time — I saw it clearly. She wasn’t bluffing. She wasn’t someone I could casually push aside. She was dangerous. And she knew it.
Nyxara held my gaze for a second longer, then stepped past me like I wasn’t even there, her shoulder brushing mine just enough to make the point clear. “Next time,” she added without looking back, “think before you speak.”
The door opened. And closed. Leaving me standing there. Still. Burning.
I didn’t follow. I didn’t speak. Not immediately.
But the moment I turned the corner — everything snapped.
The door to my room slammed shut behind me with a force that shook the walls. My hands moved before my thoughts did, grabbing the nearest object — a glass vase — and hurling it across the room. It shattered on impact. Another followed. Then another. Anything within reach. Tables overturned. Chairs scraped harshly against the floor before being kicked aside. The sharp sound of breaking porcelain filled the room, echoing violently as the storm inside me finally broke free.
My chest rose and fell rapidly, breath uneven, fingers trembling with barely restrained rage. How dare she. How dare she put her hands on me.
My hand came up slowly, brushing against my cheek. It still burned. Still throbbed. A reminder. My jaw clenched. I exhaled slowly. Deeply. Forcing the rage down. Not gone. Never gone. Just… contained. For now.
By the time I stepped out again, my expression was calm. Composed. Untouched. But my eyes — my eyes held something colder.
I made my way back toward the Luna’s chambers, my steps measured, controlled, as if nothing had happened. As if I hadn’t just been humiliated in the hallway like a servant. As if I hadn’t been reminded — of my place.
A guard stepped forward the moment I approached. “My lady.”
I stopped.
“The Luna has given orders,” he continued carefully. “She doesn’t wish to see anyone right now.”
Silence. For a moment I said nothing. I simply stood there, the guard’s words settling into the space between us, his posture stiff, cautious, as if he could already sense the shift in the air. I let the silence stretch, long enough to make him uncomfortable, long enough to remind him exactly who he was speaking to. Then I smiled. Soft. Polite. Controlled. The kind of smile that never quite reached my eyes.
“I see,” I said quietly, my voice smooth, almost pleasant, as if his words hadn’t just placed another barrier in front of me.
But inside, something twisted. Sharp. Violent. Unforgiving.
First Nyxara. Now this.
My hands clenched slowly at my sides, fingers curling inward until my nails pressed into my palms, grounding me, containing the surge of rage threatening to spill over. How… interesting. Very interesting. The pieces were shifting, not the way I intended, but shifting nonetheless. And I had always been very good at adapting.
So I waited. I didn’t move away from the door. I didn’t argue. I simply stepped aside and leaned lightly against the wall, my gaze settling ahead, calm, patient, as though I had all the time in the world. Minutes passed. The corridor remained quiet, save for the faint, muffled sound of voices behind the door. I didn’t need to hear the words. I knew enough.
Then the door opened.
Nyxara stepped out. She didn’t look at me immediately. No — she took her time, adjusting her sleeve, her posture loose, unbothered, like she owned the very air around her. And when her gaze finally landed on me, it carried that same arrogant weight as before. A slow, deliberate once-over. Dismissive.
I rolled my eyes, just slightly, letting the gesture speak for itself before pushing off the wall. No words. None were needed. I stepped past her without hesitation and entered the chambers.
The air inside was softer, warmer, carrying the faint scent of milk and herbs. My gaze immediately found the Luna. Maureen sat there, quieter than usual, something distant in her expression that hadn’t been there before. Good. The seed was taking root.
“My Luna,” I greeted, dipping my head respectfully as I approached. “Is there anything you need?”
She didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes flickered toward me, then away, like she wasn’t fully present.
“No,” she said after a moment, her voice faint. “I’m fine.”
I moved anyway, already reaching for the tray, my movements smooth and practiced as I prepared the tea. The kettle poured softly, the faint clink of porcelain filling the silence. Everything precise. Measured. Controlled. I placed the cup before her carefully.
She didn’t touch it.
For a moment, I simply stood there. Watching. Waiting.
Then — “You can leave,” she said quietly.
The words were simple. But they landed heavier than they should have.
I bowed my head again. “Of course, my Luna.”
I turned without another word and walked out. Calm. Composed. Unbothered.
The moment the door shut behind me, the calm cracked. Not visibly. Not yet. But it spread. Slowly. Like a fracture running beneath glass.
By the time I reached the servants’ quarters, the pressure inside me had built into something unbearable. My steps were sharper now, faster, my composure thinning with every passing second.
And then — impact.
A body collided with mine. A tray slipped. Porcelain shattered against the floor.
“I—I’m sorry!” the maid stammered immediately, dropping to her knees, her hands trembling as she reached for the broken pieces. “I didn’t see you, I—”
That was enough.
My hand moved before she could finish. The slap echoed loudly, snapping her head to the side, her words cutting off into a gasp. She froze for a second, stunned, before her body started shaking.
“I’m sorry, my lady—” she tried again.
Another slap. Harder this time.
“Sorry?” I repeated, my voice low, dangerous. “That’s what you have to offer me?”
She shook her head frantically, tears already spilling down her cheeks. “No, I—please—I didn’t mean—”
I grabbed her by the arm and yanked her up roughly, only to shove her back down again. The sound of her hitting the floor sent a sharp crack through the room.
“You don’t think,” I continued, my voice rising slightly, the control slipping. “You don’t look. You don’t pay attention. And then you expect forgiveness?”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” she cried, curling in on herself as my hand struck her again, then again, each hit sharper than the last.
The room had gone silent. No one moved. No one dared. I could feel their eyes on me. Fear. Good.
“Useless,” I spat, shoving her away from me. She collapsed fully now, sobbing into the floor, her body trembling uncontrollably.
My chest rose and fell rapidly, the anger still burning, still clawing for more, refusing to settle.
And then I screamed. Loud. Raw. The sound tore out of me without restraint, echoing through the entire quarters, bouncing off the walls, sharp enough to make even the guards outside stiffen.
No one spoke. No one moved. They were afraid. Exactly as they should be.
Then — it hit.
A sharp, sudden pain behind my eyes.
I froze. My breath caught mid-exhale as the pain intensified, stabbing, deep, like something was clawing from the inside out. My fingers flew to my temples instinctively, pressing hard as if I could stop it.
What—
The pressure built rapidly, spreading, tightening, as though my eyes were being forced outward, like something inside them was trying to break free.
A strangled sou
nd left my throat.
I staggered slightly, grabbing onto the edge of a table for support as my vision blurred.
“No no… I need these eyes… no no … no”