The Incubus System Chapter 1487. Two Sides of Him II
The Incubus System Chapter 1487. Two Sides of Him II
Astra’s PoV
Ethan was not pretending to be one thing while hiding another.
He was both.
That was the terrifying part.
That was the beautiful part.
Astra pressed her hand harder to her mouth, eyes lowering.
She should be afraid.
Maybe she was.
A little.
She should hate him.
Maybe a part of her had tried.
From the moment she first saw him in the Light Dimension, stained with angel blood and demonic energy, holding holy power in the hand of something Heaven had been taught to fear, she had wanted him to be simple.
Enemy.
Corruption.
Monster.
Mistake.
Those words were easy.
Rules knew what to do with those words.
But Ethan refused to fit inside them.
And that was not his fault, was it?
He had not chosen his blood.
Had not chosen to be born from Xenos’s line and Gabrielle’s grace. Had not chosen to become a reminder of a wound old enough to shape realms. Had not chosen to be trapped between demon and angel, wanted and hated by both, studied by some, hunted by others, desired by those who saw him too clearly.
Born like this.
Trapped like this.
Astra’s gaze drifted toward the window again, though she kept her eyes lowered enough not to intrude further.
Inside, the demonic energy had shifted.
No longer only passion.
Alertness.
Ethan had noticed.
He always noticed when the threat involved someone near him.
Astra’s hand slowly lowered from her mouth.
Her blush remained, but something quieter moved beneath it now.
Thought.
Dangerous thought.
If Ethan had been born in the Light Dimension…
The idea came suddenly.
Uninvited.
Impossible.
Yet it stayed.
If Ethan had been born there, not in this fragile human world, not under poverty, grief, abandonment, and secrecy…
If he had grown beneath holy skies instead of hiding inside broken systems…
If someone had taught him early that his mixed blood was not a curse, not a weapon, not evidence of sin…
What would he have become?
A monster?
No.
Astra’s throat tightened.
No, she did not believe that anymore.
Maybe, if raised in fear, he could have become a disaster. If chained, experimented on, used, hated, he could have become the exact nightmare Heaven expected.
But if protected?
If guided?
If loved properly?
Maybe…
Maybe he could have been a better king than Aurelion.
The thought struck so sharply that Astra’s breath caught.
A better king.
Forbidden thought.
Treasonous thought.
And yet it did not leave.
Ethan cared too much.
That was his flaw.
His danger.
His strength.
He did not speak of people as resources. Not truly. Even when he joked, even when he acted careless, his actions circled around one thing again and again.
Protect them.
Feed them.
Bring them home.
Do not let anyone touch them.
That was not the instinct of a tyrant.
It was not the cold duty of Light either.
It was something messier.
Warmer.
More human.
Maybe that was what Heaven had lost.
Astra closed her eyes.
Or maybe…
A better angel.
That thought hurt more.
Because Ethan was too demonic to be accepted by the Light.
Too holy to belong cleanly to the Demon world.
Too human to become either without losing something precious.
And maybe that was why he frightened everyone.
He was proof that the categories were false.
That a demon could love.
That an angel could fall.
That a human face could hide royal blood.
That corruption and holiness could live in the same chest and still choose kindness.
Astra leaned her head back against the wall.
Her blush slowly cooled, replaced by something she did not want to name.
Not desire.
Not only.
Not fear either.
It was curiosity.
Respect.
Pity.
And something softer beneath all of it.
Something she refused to examine too closely.
Inside the room, Ethan moved toward the window.
Astra felt it before she saw the curtain shift.
Panic flashed through her.
She turned immediately, pressing herself flatter against the wall, sealing her aura so tightly it almost hurt.
The curtain moved.
For one breath, Ethan looked out.
Astra did not breathe.
His eyes scanned the street.
Sharp.
Cold.
Searching.
Then the curtain fell back.
Astra finally released the air in her lungs.
Her hand touched her chest.
Her heart was beating too fast.
Ridiculous.
She was a high angel.
A warrior.
A guardian.
Someone who had faced demons, fought on sacred fields, and stood before royal authority without flinching.
And now?
A human-looking nephilim made her hide beside a wall like a guilty girl caught listening outside a forbidden chamber.
Astra hated that realization.
Deeply.
With the kind of hatred that did not belong to enemies, but to mirrors.
Because she could deny enemies. She could strike enemies. She could raise her spear against them and wrap the world in sacred judgment.
But this?
This ridiculous heat in her face?
This humiliating flutter in her chest?
This very specific memory her mind kept replaying even after she had told it, several times, with absolute authority, to stop?
Impossible to stab.
Very unfair.
She lifted one hand to her cheek and found it still warm.
“Control yourself,” she whispered.
Her voice came out too sharp.
She straightened away from the wall, trying to rebuild her dignity piece by piece. Spine straight. Chin level. Expression neutral. Aura suppressed. Breathing calm.
There.
Astra had returned.
Mostly.
Then a voice came from behind her.
“Astra, why are you standing here?”
Astra gasped.
Actually gasped.
A sound left her throat before she could crush it.
She spun around so quickly her hidden wings nearly manifested from sheer panic.
Puriel stood there.
Soft-eyed, gentle-faced Puriel, looking at Astra with complete confusion and terrible, terrible timing.
For one second, Astra froze.
Puriel blinked.
Astra blinked back.
Then Astra moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
She grabbed Puriel’s wrist and dragged her away from Ethan’s wall like they were fleeing an explosion.
“Astra—?”
“Come.”
“Where?”
“Away.”
“Why?”
“Just away.”
It was reckless.
Completely reckless.