Chapter 1033: Greed. Lust. Trauma.
Chapter 1033 – Greed. Lust. Trauma.
Lux opened his eyes.
For one second, he did not move.
He only stared upward.
Ceiling.
Painted dark wood. Elegant carved patterns. Soft ward-light glimmering faintly along the corners like lazy gold veins.
His mansion ceiling.
Not nothingness.
Lux blinked once.
Then slowly turned his head.
Naomi was beside him.
Still asleep.
And yes.
He had done it again.
The hugging thing.
His arm was wrapped around her waist, one wing half-draped over her like an overly dramatic blanket, his tail loosely curled near her leg. His body had practically attached itself to hers with the stubbornness of someone who would rather argue with universal law than admit he was clingy after intimacy.
Lux stared at his own arm. Then at Naomi’s peaceful face. "Wonderful."
His voice was barely a murmur.
Naomi did not wake.
She looked comfortable, actually. Like being trapped under a demonic sovereign with wings, horns, tail, and unresolved emotional patterns was a normal sleeping arrangement.
Lux slowly processed the rest.
Still naked.
Still in his demonic form. Not the true, terrifying greed-lust form from the dream. Just his usual handsome demonic form. Tail active enough to be suspicious. Body healed. Core stable. Mind clearer than he wanted to admit.
He lay still. Then frowned. "I passed out after one round?"
Silence.
Lux stared at the ceiling again.
Yeah.
That hot chocolate was absolutely the problem.
He closed his eyes. "I’m invoicing someone."
Naomi shifted slightly in her sleep.
Lux immediately stopped moving. His arm tightened on instinct. Then he noticed.
Paused.
Slowly loosened his hold.
That was another problem.
This habit.
How he snuggled and hugged the woman beside him as if he was afraid she would disappear if his body did not personally register ownership through warmth and proximity.
Greed.
Lust.
Trauma.
All of them had terrible teamwork when he was asleep.
He needed air. Slowly, carefully, Lux slipped away from Naomi’s side. It took more effort than expected because his own tail apparently disagreed with the plan and had to be mentally threatened into cooperation.
He stood.
The room felt cool against his skin.
He glanced once at Naomi to make sure she stayed asleep.
Then he vanished.
A soft pulse of dark-gold light folded around him.
In the next breath, Lux appeared on his balcony. Still naked.
Because honestly, he was an incubus in his own mansion. Clothes were public relations, not a moral requirement.
Morning had not fully arrived yet.
Dawn painted the horizon in bruised violet and pale gold. The gardens below breathed mist. Veyra’s plants glittered with dew and murder. Fenrir’s patrol shadows shifted along the walls. The mansion stood quiet, beautiful, and heavily warded enough to make trespassers reconsider the life choices that led them there.
Lux inhaled.
Cool air filled his lungs.
Then he stretched.
Properly.
Which, for a demon, required space.
His back arched. His wings spread wide, unfurling until the balcony felt almost too small. The joints along the dark membranes loosened with a satisfying pull. His tail stretched behind him in a lazy curve, then flicked once. His shoulders rolled. His neck cracked softly.
His body felt better.
A lot better.
The exhaustion had not vanished, but it no longer sat behind his eyes like a debt collector with a personal grudge. His core felt warmer. Firmer. His thoughts had edges again, but they were clean edges, not broken glass.
Either the hot chocolate had worked... Or the dream had.
Lux huffed. "At least this isn’t going to be a saving operation again."
Technically, the First Covenant did not need saving.
It was sleeping by choice.
Unless Kaelmor reached deeper and woke it incorrectly, which sounded exactly like the kind of sentence that started a saving operation while pretending not to.
Lux sighed.
The key was Cyrinne.
Lux had to trust her.
Not blindly.
But enough.
And that was the real battlefield.
Trust was expensive.
Lux could lend money, invest in collapsing sectors, manipulate royal markets, rewrite ownership, buy towers, fund wars, and burn fortunes if the math made sense.
But trust?
Trust cost parts of him that did not regenerate neatly with Greed power.
He leaned on the balcony rail, staring out at the dawn.
Then, as if summoned by his boredom and emotional discomfort, shadows rippled behind him.
Corvus appeared first, fluttering out of the dark like a judgmental scrap of night.
Zehar followed, stepping from violet mist in full gothic noble glory, cane in hand, hair immaculate, coat annoyingly dramatic.
Corvus opened his beak.
Then stopped.
His raven eyes widened.
He looked Lux up and down. Then winced. "Ever heard of clothes?"
Lux did not turn around. "No."
Corvus flapped once, distressed. "Or do incubi hate clothes? Wait—no. You were fully clothed before, back when you were replacing your father."
Lux glanced over his shoulder.
Corvus pointed one wing at him accusingly. "Now you are naked like a wild, uncultured demon."
Lux deadpanned, "Once again, I will remind you. I’m on vacation."
"That is not a clothing policy."
"It is mine."
Zehar, to his credit, simply looked amused and leaned on his cane like an ancient noble who had witnessed far stranger things and charged admission.
Corvus, however, was suffering.
"But that thing." He pointed downward with one wing. "Is bothering me. My concentration is evaporated."
Lux stared at him. Then slowly shifted one wing forward, covering his lower half. "Now speak."
Corvus exhaled dramatically. "Thank you. Civilization returns."
Zehar chuckled. "Weak bird."
"I have standards."
Lux looked at him. "Report."
Corvus landed on the balcony rail, feathers settling. His joking faded quickly. "We found something."
Lux’s gaze sharpened.
Zehar’s expression also changed, arrogance folding into old seriousness.
"We found the broken admiration shrines," Zehar said.
Lux’s fingers tightened on the rail.
Corvus continued, "The names were erased, but traces remain in Shadow Corridor whispers."
Zehar lifted his cane, tapping it once against the floor. "Three old routes were mentioned. Two false. One possible."
Lux’s eyes narrowed. "Possible where?"
Zehar smiled faintly. "Under old Envy territory. Older than the house. Older than their official founding myth."