Seven Sins System Chapter 879. Terrible Survival Instinct
Seven Sins System Chapter 879. Terrible Survival Instinct
I looked at her.
She leaned back just enough for our eyes to meet.
My mouth curved. “Jealous?”
Lily did not deny it.
That was one of the most dangerous things about her.
She did not waste time pretending.
“Yes.”
The answer sat between us, hot and honest.
I studied her face.
Her smirk remained, but her eyes had changed. Less playful now. Darker. Possessive in that old demon way that had nothing to do with romance poems and everything to do with blood, hunger, and memory.
“She was your nemesis,” Lily said. “I find this ironic.”
“She still annoys me sometimes.”
“She called your name.”
I went still.
Lily noticed. “I heard enough,” she said.
I scoffed. “Rumors move fast.”
“Blood moves faster.”
That thing between us.
We shared blood.
The same darkness threaded through our veins.
Lily leaned closer again, her hand resting on the pool’s edge beside my shoulder. “I want you,” she said. The words were quiet. Not weak. “More.”
The Abyss water pulsed.
My core answered faintly, not with lust first, but recognition.
Same blood.
Same darkness.
I looked at her lips.
Bad idea.
Her smile deepened. “We share the same blood,” she whispered. Her eyes glowed brighter. “Yet you care about her more than you care about me.”
I stared at her.
The Abyss pool bubbled around my chest, dragging another thin silver vein of poison from under my skin. It hissed as it dissolved into the black liquid, and the pain should have been enough to keep my thoughts clean.
It wasn’t.
Lily was too close.
Her hair brushed my shoulder. Her perfume wrapped around the sulfur like it owned the chamber. Her fingers rested lightly against my jaw, avoiding the burns with a gentleness that did not match the jealousy in her eyes.
“That’s not fair,” I said.
She smiled. “Since when do demons care about fair?”
“Since you start saying dangerous things while I’m in a healing pool and can’t walk away.”
Her smile widened. “Poor . No dramatic exit.”
“I can still sink.”
“I will pull you back.”
“The pool will hurt you.”
“Let it.”
That answer made my gaze sharpen.
Lily noticed. She noticed everything when she wanted to hurt me. Or tempt me. Sometimes those were the same hobby.
Her thumb brushed the corner of my mouth. “You hate that I say it out loud,” she whispered.
“I hate many things.”
“Yes.” She leaned closer. “But you hate this because it is true.”
I held her stare.
The ancient demonic words on the walls glowed red behind her, casting shadows over her face. Beautiful shadows. Cruel ones. They made her look like something born from an old curse and dressed in desire.
“You don’t know what I feel for her,” I said.
“I know what you did.”
“That’s different.”
“No.” Her voice softened. “For you, action is confession.”
Tch!
Terrible woman.
I looked away first.
Bad move.
She saw that too.
Lily’s fingers slid from my jaw down to my throat, stopping over the pulse there. The touch was light, barely pressure, but my whole body reacted anyway. Maybe because I was injured. Maybe because the Abyss pool stripped down every lie until all that remained was blood, pain, and instinct.
Or maybe because Lily knew exactly where to place her hand.
“You protected her,” she said. “You carried her into the Light Realm even though it poisoned you worse. You trusted her queen because of her. You asked about everyone else first because you were afraid your father would hear Puriel in your voice.”
I slowly looked back at her. “You came here to comfort me or dissect me?”
“Both.” Her lashes lowered slightly. “You are not the only one allowed to be cruel when worried.”
Worried.
That word sat strangely on her lips.
Then she leaned in and kissed me. She kissed me like she was angry at the fact I had nearly died somewhere she couldn’t reach.
Her mouth pressed against mine, warm and demanding, and the Abyss pool surged around us as if ancient demonic healing water had decided to mind its own business and pretend this was medically relevant.
I should have pushed her away.
I was wounded.
Poisoned.
Half-submerged in royal-grade suffering.
My burned hand barely moved.
My ribs still felt like cracked furniture.
Also, Dad could probably sense if someone started making questionable decisions in the Royal Abyss Chamber.
Probably.
Maybe.
Hopefully not.
Instead, my unburned hand rose and caught the back of her neck.
Lily made a soft sound against my mouth.
Victory.
Hers, unfortunately.
She drew back just enough to smile. “There.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What?”
“You still want me.”
“That was never the question.”
Her eyes flickered. “Then what is?”
I didn’t answer.
Because the answer was ugly.
Because wanting Lily was easy.
She was darkness I understood. Blood I recognized. A desire that did not ask me to become softer than I was. She looked at the worst parts of me and smiled.
Puriel wasn’t
Lily’s smile faded slightly, as if she heard the thought even without my voice.
Then she stood.
I watched her because I was injured, not dead.
She reached for the fastening at her shoulder.
“Lily.”
“Hm?”
“What are you doing?”
Her outer cloak slipped down first, dark fabric pooling on the black stone beside the Abyss pool. Then the layered dress followed in slow, deliberate motions, not rushed, not shy, each piece set aside like she was stripping off a war mask one layer at a time.
My eyes narrowed. “You seriously gonna do this?”
She tilted her head, hair falling across one shoulder. “I am.”
“I’m still wounded.”
“I noticed.”
“That should discourage you.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Terrible survival instinct.”
“Says the man who grabbed a holy-poison core with his bare hand.”
I opened my mouth.
Closed it.
Fair.
She stepped closer to the pool’s edge, wearing only a thin black inner layer that clung to her like shadow pretending to be silk. The Abyss Chamber’s red glow moved across her skin, turning every curve into a temptation and every shadow into a threat.
“I may cough poison and not in a romantic condition.”
Her smile returned.
“You have never been in a romantic condition. You are a walking battlefield with cheekbones.”
Despite myself, I laughed once.
It hurt.
Worth it.