The Incubus System Chapter 1347. Sticky Food

The Incubus System Chapter 1347. Sticky Food

“Is sticky,” I agreed. “Wouldn’t recommend eating it with your hands.”

Ivy handed Nefaris a napkin with a smirk. “Here, Your Highness.”

“Oh thank you, darling,” Nefaris said sweetly, then looked at me again. “So… can we eat you?”

I stared.

“You waved at us,” Syntyche said innocently.

“Yes. Politely.”

“That was foreplay,” Nefaris said.

I stared harder.

Syntyche pouted. “Don’t be mean.”

I exhaled and gestured to the basket. “Sit. Eat. The food. Just… Don’t eat me yet. I really not in the mood. I need food. Really.”

They did.

They actually sat.

Syntyche immediately began twirling a skewer like it was a wand.

Nefaris inspected a pastry like it was suspicious prey. She ended up just playing with it.

And… for a moment?

It was quiet.

Just us. Sharing stolen food during a demon tournament. Like mortals at a weird picnic. Ivy passed out more drinks. Maria judged silently. I stretched my wings and rolled my shoulders.

And then Syntyche leaned in and whispered, “After the final battle, we’re stealing you.”

“For s*x?” I asked, not even blinking.

“Yes,” Nefaris whispered.

Syntyche leaned closer, letting her fingers trail over my arm like she was tracing constellations into my skin. Her voice, as always, was the kind that made flowers bloom and corpses rise depending on her mood. “Or… to taste you. Haven’t decided yet~”

I nodded slowly, as if this was the most logical conversation one could have in the middle of a blood soaked infernal tournament.

“Fair enough,” I said, and grabbed another fried soulfruit from the basket. “But I’m eating first.”

The glaze was still warm, slightly sticky, tangy and sweet with that sharp kick of hellspice that burned just enough to remind you you were still alive. I moaned softly again, because yes, food was still better than s*x at this point. Or at least more consistent.

Nefaris gave me a flat stare and placed her half-eaten skewer down like it had personally offended her. She picked up her goblet of blood wine again, swirling it like a noblewoman preparing to verbally execute someone. Her lips parted.

“I heard,” she said, drawing it out, “that Aurelion. King of the Light Realm. Telepathed you recently.”

I froze mid-chew. “You spying on me now?”

“I’m bored. And powerful. Don’t blame me.”

I licked my thumb clean before answering. “Yeah. He tried to get into my head.”

“And?” she asked, tilting her head. Her earrings shimmered, catching the dim demonic firelight. The ruby pendant glinted like a predator’s eye.

“He dissed me,” I said, deadpan. “Said I’m a disgrace. Blah blah. Real original, holy man monologue.”

Syntyche frowned. “Because you’re a hybrid.”

“Yep. Demon and angel.” I tapped my forehead. “Blasphemy incarnate.”

“But you’re still king material,” Nefaris pointed out, sipping her wine. “Why do you care what that walking glowstick thinks?”

“I don’t,” I said truthfully. “Not my problem if a celestial grandpa with a stick up his halo can’t accept my genetics.”

They both chuckled at that, but I could tell the amusement was laced with something sharper. Syntyche let out a long breath and picked up another glazed skewer, toying with it between her fingers.

“Still can’t believe you’re going back to that human school again,” she said, glancing at me sideways.

“Tomorrow morning,” I replied, mouth full. “Right after the tournament ends.”

They both stared like I’d just told them I was planning to become a vegan.

“I still don’t get it,” Nefaris muttered. “Why you insist on finishing that… college. It’s not even in the demon realm. It’s full of mortals. And rules. And desks.”

“I like desks,” I said defensively.

“You like destruction,” Syntyche countered. “You like making things moan. You like ruling. Not group projects.”

“I also like cafeteria meatballs,” I added. “And my friends.”

“Friends?” Nefaris lifted an eyebrow. “You have friends?”

“Yeah, I’m a very popular emotionally unstable prince, thank you,” I reasoned.

“Name one.”

“Larry,” Syntyche said immediately, looking amused.

“Larry,” Nefaris echoed, her voice dripping with amusement. “That weird human who also demon hunter and have body pillow as his girlfriend.”

“That body pillow have a name,” I added. “Nana-chan.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re defending him. That’s cute.”

“Hey,” I said, sitting up straighter. “I have a lot of friends. But yeah, okay, Larry’s the longest one. He’s been around since forever.”

Syntyche twirled the skewer again like it was her favorite scepter of mischief. “You’re loyal. I’ll give you that.”

I shrugged, my shoulders stiff with memories I didn’t want to unpack in the middle of a snack orgy. “He gave me food when I was hungry. Back then I had no money. I owe him.”

That was the truth.

Not the poetic kind. The ugly kind. Larry had seen me at my lowest, at my hungriest, at my most pathetic condition. And he just… gave me a sandwich and said, “You want the apple too?”

We went quiet.

Dead quiet.

I looked up.

Nefaris and Syntyche weren’t giving me the usual look. Not the “we’re going to devour you for fun and maybe eat your soul too” look. Not the “let’s play with our favorite hybrid” look.

No.

This one was different.

They looked like they… wanted to pity me.

No. Not pity.

They looked like they wanted to pamper me.

To coddle me.

To wrap me in some soft velvet blanket and feed me grapes while whispering sweet corruptions into my ear.

And honestly?

I didn’t know what to do with that.

My jaw tightened automatically, like it always did when I felt seen in a way I wasn’t ready for. I almost shoved another skewer in my mouth just to deflect.

But I didn’t need to.

Because sure enough, I felt it.

That shift.

That soft, pressure heavy, static touched shift in the air that only happened when the predators got serious.

When the game changed.

My instincts whispered in the back of my mind: five seconds. That’s all the time you’ve got before something dramatic or semi naked happens.

Five.

Four.

Three…