The Incubus System Chapter 1470. Out of Sight, Not Out of Mind

The Incubus System Chapter 1470. Out of Sight, Not Out of Mind

I exhaled to lessen the tension.

It didn’t work.

Not really.

The air still felt too tight around my throat, like someone had wrapped invisible fingers there and squeezed just enough to remind me I was breathing because they allowed it.

The envelope sat in my hand.

My fingers still curled around it like it was a blade pointed at my chest.

I closed the door slowly.

Not slammed.

Just a quiet click.

And somehow that quiet sound made the whole house feel even more silent.

Everyone was watching me.

I could feel it.

Celia from the dining room. Ruby standing half-near the kitchen, her earlier playfulness completely gone. Foxy’s ears lowered. Puriel’s gaze soft and worried. Astra sharper, studying. Nefaris and Syntyche quiet for once.

So I did what I always did.

I smiled.

Forced.

Small.

Fake enough that I knew everyone noticed.

“Right,” I said lightly, raising my voice just enough to pretend the moment was over. “I’ll cook for Ruby now.”

I shoved the envelope into my pocket before anyone could look at it too long.

Out of sight.

Not out of mind.

But at least out of sight.

I stepped toward the kitchen.

Celia stood up first. “You don’t have to.”

I waved her off. “Nah. It’s fine.”

My voice sounded normal.

Too normal.

That was the problem.

Celia’s eyes didn’t leave my face. “It’s from Mom, right?”

My hand paused on the fridge handle.

Just for half a second.

Then I forced the smile back onto my face and glanced at her.

“Yeah.”

The word tasted like rust.

Then I added quickly, “But I’ll take care of her. Don’t worry.”

Celia didn’t look convinced.

Actually, nobody did.

Because that sentence didn’t sound reassuring.

It sounded like a warning.

Celia walked toward me slowly, then gently moved between me and the kitchen. “I’ll cook for Ruby.”

Ruby blinked. “But I want Ethan’s cooking.”

Celia turned her head toward Ruby. “I’ll cook for you.”

That wasn’t a suggestion.

That was a royal decree issued by a culinary student in pajamas.

Ruby opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Then slowly raised both hands.

“…Okay.”

Celia turned back to me, and for a second, the strong expression slipped. Just enough for me to see the worry underneath.

Worry.

For me.

I hated that.

Hated that she could still look at me like that after everything.

“Thanks, Celia,” I said quietly.

She nodded once.

I looked toward the queens after that, because if I looked at Celia too long, something in my chest might crack. “I need to go to college first,” I said. “Please behave.”

They all saw the cold edge still sitting under my fake smile.

Nefaris simply nodded. “Of course.”

Syntyche’s expression softened slightly. “We’ll behave, Damian.”

Astra watched me without blinking.

Puriel looked like she wanted to say something but didn’t know if she had the right.

Foxy stepped closer, almost instinctively, but stopped when I reached for my bag.

I grabbed it from the chair, slung it over one shoulder, and lifted my hand. “Portal. College rooftop.”

Dark energy gathered in front of me.

[You have opened a portal.]

The portal unfolded smoothly, its edges rippling like black water.

I stood there for a second.

One second too long.

Then I stepped through.

Cold rooftop air greeted me immediately.

The portal closed behind me with a soft pulse, leaving only morning sky and concrete under my shoes.

College.

Normal students somewhere below, probably complaining about assignments and cafeteria prices and boring professors.

Lucky them.

I adjusted my bag and took one breath.

Then another.

Trying to reset.

Trying to become Ethan Strongheart, college student.

Not Damian Lucio Malignus, Crown Prince, nephilim anomaly, heavenly succession crisis.

Just Ethan.

Didn’t work.

“You’re early.”

I turned my head slightly.

Lysathiel stood near the rooftop fence, blonde hair moving lightly in the wind, posture elegant, eyes already fixed on me.

Yeah, she was here.

Because apparently everyone beautiful and dangerous now had rooftop access.

I smiled faintly.

Forced again.

“Morning.”

She didn’t return the smile immediately. Her eyes narrowed just slightly, not hostile. Observant.

“I detected more demons entering this world.”

Straight to business.

Figures.

“I assume they are your allies?”

“They are,” I said. “Don’t worry.”

Lysathiel studied me. “They are powerful.”

“Yeah.”

“And unstable.”

I huffed softly. “That part depends on their s*x appetite.”

She didn’t smile.

Okay.

Bad joke timing.

I adjusted my bag again and walked toward the rooftop door. “I’ve got it handled.”

The sentence came out automatic.

The same way I told Celia I’d take care of it.

The same way I told everyone not to worry.

Lysathiel’s voice followed me. “Then why does your face say otherwise?”

My hand paused on the door handle.

For a second, the wind felt colder.

I didn’t turn around immediately.

Because if I did, maybe she’d see it too clearly.

The crack.

The old wound with my mother’s name written across it. “Private matter,” I said.

She stayed silent.

But I could feel her gaze on my back.

Heavy.

Careful.

Almost gentle.

That somehow annoyed me more than suspicion would have.

Because gentleness always made hiding harder. “I can help,” she said quietly.

My fingers tightened around the door handle.

No.

No, she couldn’t.

Not this.

This wasn’t demon lord stuff.

Wasn’t angels.

Wasn’t bloodlines or thrones or wars.

This was human.

The kind of pain no amount of holy light could purify because it wasn’t a wound you could point to.

I smiled without turning around. Still fake. “I know.” Then I opened the door. “Thanks.”

And walked away before she could answer.

The stairwell smelled like old concrete and dust.

My footsteps echoed down the stairs as students’ voices slowly grew louder below. Laughter. Complaints. Someone talking too loudly on the phone.

Normal life.

I slipped one hand into my pocket.

My fingers brushed the envelope.

Instantly, the cold came back.

I stopped halfway down the stairwell.

Just stood there.

For one quiet second, I let my expression drop.

No smile.

My eyes lowered.

The envelope crinkled faintly beneath my fingers.

She wanted to meet me.

Again?

My jaw tightened.

A dark laugh almost came out.

Almost.

But I swallowed it.

Because I had class.

I exhaled slowly.

Then forced my face back into something neutral.

I continued down the stairs.

Toward class.