The Incubus System Chapter 1377. A Real Dead End
The Incubus System Chapter 1377. A Real Dead End
I gave a breathy laugh. “Okay, okay. I won’t. I promise.”
She didn’t move.
I gave her a tired smile. “I was just teasing you—”
But I wasn’t.
And that’s what made this sting.
It was the last resort. The nuclear button buried under every other plan I was too stubborn to admit I might need. It wasn’t even a backup plan. It was a grave. A coffin carved out of silence and detachment and the belief that if I ever became too dangerous, too broken, too hunted… that I’d rather vanish quietly than hurt them.
I didn’t say any of that.
I didn’t want to.
She whispered, barely loud enough for the water to carry it. “Liar.”
It shocked me more than I wanted to admit. I blinked, shoulders tensing slightly under her touch. “I’m—”
“No,” she cut in, voice firmer now. “Ethan.”
Her hands came up, cupping my face. Her palms were soft, fingers trembling just the tiniest bit.
“I know,” she said. “I can feel it. You’ll fight. You’ll keep fighting. Until you’re broken. Until there’s nothing left. But I know, once you hit a real dead end, once you think there’s no one left you can trust with the aftermath… you’ll consider it. You’ll walk to the edge.”
I couldn’t meet her eyes.
The steam curled around us like a shroud. Her skin, still wet against mine, suddenly felt colder. Or maybe that was just my guilt surfacing through the heat.
She kept going, gentle but relentless. “That’s why you didn’t answer him right away. That’s why you hesitated when the Eye told you about the border. About the nothingness. The emptiness. Because deep down, you understood it. You didn’t need him to explain it. You felt it.”
I let out a slow breath. My voice was low. Rough.
“It’s just a what if.”
“No,” she said, gripping my face tighter. “No, what if.”
Her thumbs stroked my cheekbones, trailing warmth behind. Her forehead pressed lightly against mine. Her breath mingled with mine in the thick air.
“I need you,” she whispered. “Not the quiet, polite version. Not the one who contemplates martyrdom or logical exits. I need the Ethan that yells at demon lords and laughs at curses. The one who says ‘I got this shit,’ even when he doesn’t. The one who survives out of spite and says ‘screw prophecy’ and rewrites it anyway.”
I stared at her. My chest was tight.
Then I chuckled, breath catching a little. “I do still got it.”
She narrowed her eyes slightly. “Then act like it.”
I laughed again, deeper this time, and leaned into her touch. “Like I said… it’s not about giving up. It’s just… expectation, you know? I thought angels would be… hell, you know what I thought they’d be. All calm and soft and full of golden wisdom.”
Her brows lifted slightly. “We’re not?”
“Oh, no,” I said, smirking. “You’re terrifying. Sexy, but terrifying.”
She rolled her eyes and tried not to smile. “You’re deflecting.”
“I’m venting,” I corrected. “Because yeah, maybe I had a little mental breakdown. Thought I hit the finish line. Thought this whole arc of my life was done. Thought peace was real. And then boom… next season unlocked. Surprise boss fight.”
Her voice dropped again, softer now. “And you weren’t ready.”
“No,” I admitted. “I wasn’t. I was already halfway into retirement mode. I thought I could be just Ethan again. Not the demon prince. Not the problem. Not the variable.”
She was quiet for a moment.
Then she leaned in. Kissed me.
Slow. Warm. Not heated or desperate, but heavy. Full.
Her lips tasted like lavender steam. Her mouth moved against mine with something deeper than desire. It was promise. It was presence. It was ‘I’m here. I’m not leaving’.
I melted into it for a moment. Let my arms wrap around her. Let our bodies pull close again.
Her breasts pressed to my chest, soft and wet, and her thighs slid tighter around mine beneath the water. I felt every inch of her and somehow all of it was background noise compared to the thudding of her heart and the breath that escaped her when we broke apart.
“You’re not allowed to fade,” she whispered. “You hear me? Not when you’ve come this far.”
I touched her jaw. “I hear you.”
She pressed herself tighter against me, resting her head against my shoulder again.
I held her in the hot water. Let her weight remind me I was real. That this was real.
It was filled with the warmth of skin. Of breath. Of beating hearts. Of someone choosing to stay even when I was at my most complicated.
And I’d be damned if I gave that up.
I shifted just enough to wrap my arms around her more fully, careful, gentle. My thumb traced a slow line along her shoulder, a quiet thank‑you written in touch instead of words. “Thank you,” I murmured, forehead resting against hers.
She huffed softly. “It isn’t just me,” she said. “You know that. I bet all your girls think the same. Don’t be stupid, Ethan.”
I laughed under my breath. “I’m not stupid.”
She raised a brow.
I sighed, conceding. “Okay. Maybe. A bit.”
The water lapped against the tub, steady and warm. Steam curled around us like a held breath. I went quiet again, choosing my words carefully, because this one mattered. “I’m supposed to be an incubus,” I said. “By the book, all of this should be easy. Lust. Heat. Transactional. Clean.”
She didn’t interrupt. She listened.
“Yet somehow,” I continued, “all of you… fit. In here.” I tapped my chest lightly. “It’s weird. But it’s also… right. I’m happy. Happier than I ever expected to be.”
I pulled her closer, my chin resting in her hair. “I’m happy as I am. Because there’s nothing wrong with me.”
The words settled between us. Solid. Earned.
For a moment, my thoughts wandered, uninvited, to paths that might have been different. To power that never learned how to be held. To loneliness that calcified into doctrine. If rejection had never happened, if someone had stayed, maybe even monsters could have chosen softer endings.