Chapter 336 – "The Side That Waits in Shadow"
The candlelight flickered low in the quiet guest quarters of the Vatican dormitory.
Alex stood by the window, gazing out at the courtyard where the evening sun painted soft hues over white marble and blooming trees. The peace of the place settled deep in his chest.
And then…
He felt it.
Not magic exactly.
Something deeper.
A shift in presence.
He turned slowly—just in time to see her step forward from the edge of the room's shadows.
Her figure was unmistakable.
Long, flowing lavender hair that shimmered with a faint violet sheen. Eyes like glowing amethysts with slitted pupils that shimmered with playful hunger. She wore a high-slit armored dress of obsidian violet, tight across her chest and hips, edged in glowing runes. Her thighs were bare, hugged by garter-like armor, and her lips curved in that familiar, wicked smile.
It was Mira.
And this time… she wasn't hiding.
Well—almost not.
The horns and wings were gone. Disguised. Hidden beneath a veil of light she'd expertly maintained.
The Vatican couldn't see what she was.
But Alex could feel it.
He always could.
"Miss me?" she asked, voice silky and sharp, like a blade wrapped in velvet.
Alex smirked, folding his arms. "You've been quiet."
She walked toward him, every step a slow, deliberate sway of her hips.
"Mary had her moment," Mira said. "She needed it."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "And you didn't?"
She reached him.
Leaned in.
Her breath ghosted along his jaw.
"I've been patient," she whispered. "Very, very patient."
"And now…"
Her hands slid up his chest, fingers curling into his shirt.
"…it's my turn."
Mira's fingers remained curled into his shirt, her lips close to his.
But instead of pulling him into a kiss, she paused.
Her expression shifted—just slightly.
The playful curve of her mouth softened. Her lashes lowered. And when she spoke next, her voice was quieter. Less teasing. Almost uncertain.
"…I want to go out."
Alex blinked. "Out?"
She nodded.
"Out there. With you."
She tilted her head toward the window, where the fading sunlight glowed over the Vatican rooftops.
"Like Mary did. A real walk. Just us. No shadows. No hiding in the back of your mind."
Alex looked at her for a moment—really looked at her.
The way she held herself so proudly. So confidently.
But under that armor, beneath those glowing eyes and razor-sharp smiles…
He saw it.
The same longing Mary had.
The same desire.
To be seen.
To be wanted in the light, not just the dark.
He didn't hesitate.
"Of course," he said simply.
Mira blinked.
"I'd love to go out with you."
She stared at him for a heartbeat longer, as if checking for sarcasm. For doubt. For pity.
But he offered none.
Just his hand.
Extended toward her with the same warmth he gave to Mary, to the others.
Because he loved them all.
And Mira…
Was no exception.
She took his hand slowly, her voice softer than he'd ever heard it:
"…You really are unfair, you know that?"
He smiled. "Only when I'm in love."
She rolled her eyes—but her fingers tightened around his.
"Let me change first," she said, glancing down at her outfit. "If I go out dressed like this, the cardinals are going to exorcise me on sight."
Alex chuckled. "Fair."
She turned toward the dressing screen, but before she stepped behind it, she looked back.
"…Thanks for saying yes."
He met her eyes.
And answered without words.
The city beyond the Vatican walls was quieter in the evening. Lanterns glowed along the narrow stone streets, and ivy clung to the ancient walls like fading memories. The sky above was a cool indigo, stars beginning to blink into view.
Alex walked beside Mira.
And for once… she didn't hide.
She had changed into a sleek black and violet dress, modern and elegant, with a satin ribbon tied around her waist and matching heels that tapped softly on the cobblestones. Her long lavender hair flowed in loose waves, untamed but regal, her ears and fangs hidden by a glamour. Her horns and wings, sealed by her own will.
To the world, she looked like a breathtaking noblewoman—refined, graceful, untouchable.
To him, she was Mira.
And she couldn't help herself.
"Alex," she whispered, leaning close to his ear as they passed a slow-moving carriage, "if you bend me over the edge of that fountain, I won't resist."
He blinked.
"…You're not subtle at all, are you?"
She smirked. "Why would I be? I'm a succubus. Half my joy is making you squirm in public."
She leaned in again, her lips brushing the shell of his ear.
"Besides… your hands touched her. Last night. You were inside her. But you haven't touched me in this new body yet."
"Mira…"
Her voice lowered to a whisper of silk.
"I'm soaked just from walking beside you."
He stopped walking for a moment.
She stepped in front of him, facing him with a smile far too innocent for her words.
"What? I'm just being honest. That's what you said you liked about me, remember?"
He sighed through his nose, a faint smile betraying the warmth behind his exasperation.
"And what if someone hears you?"
Mira grinned, glancing to the side—two nuns passed, completely unaware, as her concealment spell distorted the sound.
"They won't. I made sure. No one hears the filth I whisper to you. Only you."
She stepped close again.
"And isn't that exciting?"
He didn't answer.
Not with words.
Instead, he took her hand.
Firmly.
Warmly.
And began walking again.
Mira blinked, then followed beside him, a little surprised.
"…You're not flustered?"
"I am," he said calmly. "But I'm also used to you."
She smirked. "That's dangerous."
"No," he replied.
"It means I trust you."
Mira was silent for a while.
As they passed beneath the glow of an old cathedral's arched windows, she looked up at him and asked—softly, without seduction:
"…You really do, don't you?"
He nodded. "You're honest, Mira. That's never been the problem."
She glanced away, hiding the faint flicker of emotion in her glowing eyes.
"…You make it hard to be a monster, you know that?"
"You were never one."
She laughed softly.
Then leaned on his shoulder.
And for a moment, she didn't whisper anything dirty.
She just breathed.
At peace.
The rooftop café overlooked the old heart of the city.
Lamps hung from wrought iron arches, casting warm glows across the garden-like terrace. A few quiet patrons sat at distant tables, sipping late tea, too absorbed in their own lives to notice the beautiful violet-haired woman sitting across from Alex, her chin resting in her hand as she watched him with glowing eyes.
Mira had ordered the richest chocolate tart on the menu.
Alex? Just a black coffee and a slice of fig cake.
She didn't eat quickly.
She savored every bite. Let every flavor melt on her tongue like a performance. When she moaned softly after the first taste, Alex arched an eyebrow.
"You're being dramatic."
"I'm a creature of indulgence," she said between licks of her fork. "Let me enjoy this."
Alex chuckled and reached for his own fork, casually slicing a bit of fig. He took a bite—sweet, subtle, satisfying.
But Mira tilted her head suddenly.
"Hold still."
"Hm?"
She leaned forward.
Eyes locked on his cheek.
"You have something," she said softly. "Right here."
Before he could react, she moved in.
Not with a napkin.
Not with a finger.
But with her tongue.
She dragged it slowly along the corner of his mouth—deliberately slow, her lips grazing his skin as she tasted the faint trace of honey left on his cheek.
He froze.
Her breath was warm against him.
And when she pulled back, her smile was dangerous.
"Sweet," she whispered. "But not as sweet as you."
Alex cleared his throat softly. "You really can't help yourself, can you?"
She leaned closer, one leg crossing over the other, her foot brushing his ankle beneath the table.
"I warned you before, didn't I?" Her voice dropped. "Everything I feel, Mary feels too…"
She tilted her head slightly, a mock-innocent smile on her lips.
"I just licked your face, Alex."
"And she felt that."
In the quiet space inside her soul—
Mary stirred.
"M-Mira…!"
"You're welcome."
"…He's right there!"
"He's always right there."
"You're embarrassing us!"
"No, darling. I'm liberating us."
"…My heart can't take this…"
Mira smirked slightly at nothing, enjoying both the taste of sugar and the mental blush she could feel blooming from Mary's side.
Alex, meanwhile, had caught on.
He looked at her calmly.
"Mary's awake, isn't she?"
Mira's grin widened.
"Oh yes," she purred. "And she's beet red right now."
He smiled softly.
Then—reached across the table and gently took Mira's hand.
"I'm glad she's watching."
Mira blinked.
Something about the way he said it—quiet, sincere, without teasing—made even her falter for half a heartbeat.
"…You're dangerous," she whispered.
Alex squeezed her hand.
"So are you."
The rooftop café had mostly emptied by now.
Only the stars remained above them, scattered like forgotten sparks across the night sky. The soft murmur of water from a nearby fountain played like background music to their private world.
Mira leaned back in her chair, one leg elegantly crossed over the other, fingers laced beneath her chin. She had that look again—the one that said she wasn't just thinking something dangerous.
She was deciding how to say it.
Then she spoke.
"Is it true," she asked sweetly, "that your pee and semen taste sweet?"
Alex blinked.
He froze mid-sip of his coffee.
"…What?"
She leaned in slightly, voice low and velvety.
"I heard it from Ciel," she whispered with a teasing grin. "She said it like she was making a divine wine recommendation."
Alex let out a slow breath. "You asked Ciel that?"
"I ask everyone everything," Mira said proudly. "But only the fun questions."
She paused, then added with a shameless smile:
"Is it true?"
Alex didn't answer immediately.
But the corner of his mouth twitched. "…You're serious?"
"Oh, very."
Her eyes sparkled with growing hunger, but behind the teasing there was something deeper—genuine curiosity, not just as a succubus, but as someone who wanted to understand every part of him. Who wanted to taste him, claim him, know him fully.
"And?" she asked again. "Is it true?"
He met her gaze evenly. "…Yes."
Mira inhaled slowly, the answer hitting her like a shot of heat straight through her body.
She smiled—slow, wide, satisfied.
"Good," she whispered.
"Because I want to try it tonight."
Her voice dropped into a purr.
"Both."
Inside her soul, Mary nearly fainted.
"Mira, you can't just—!"
"Why not? You want to know too, don't you?"
"T-That's not the point—!"
"We're in love with a miracle. And I plan to taste every part of him."
"…I'm going to die."
Mira gently pressed her fingers to her lips and turned back to Alex.
"Will you let me?"
She didn't say it like a test.
She said it like a vow.
Alex stared at her for a long moment.
Then stood up from the table.
He extended his hand.
"…Let's go."
The door to her guest room closed with a soft click.
Silence fell.
But it wasn't the silence of absence—it was the silence that came before something sacred. Or dangerous. Or both.
Alex stood by the bedside, waiting—watching—as Mira turned toward him, her violet eyes gleaming under the golden light of a single candle.
She inhaled slowly.
And then—
With a faint shimmer of dissolving illusion magic, her disguise unraveled.
The glamour melted away like falling dust, revealing her true form.
Her long, pointed ears emerged first—elegant and graceful.
Then her curved black horns, spiraling smoothly from just behind her temples like polished obsidian.
And behind her, her succubus tail unfurled—long, sleek, ending in a spade-shaped tip that flicked playfully behind her like a teasing finger tracing the air.
She was beautiful.
No—beyond that.
She was unapologetically herself.
Mira tilted her head, watching Alex's expression shift as he took her in fully—his eyes lowering briefly, then widening ever so slightly.
Her gaze followed the subtle movement beneath his pants.
And she smiled.
A slow, seductive, wicked smile.
"Oh my," she purred, stepping closer, hips swaying like silk in moonlight. "It seems you really like my real body."
Her voice lowered to a whisper as she pressed a single finger against his chest.
"You're already this hard… and I haven't even touched you yet."
She stepped back slowly, and with no hesitation—began to undress.
First, the gloves.
Then the ribbon at her waist.
The dress slid down her shoulders, clinging for just a second before falling like water to the floor, pooling around her bare feet.
She stood before him completely naked.
Perfectly confident.
Utterly divine.
Alex's eyes traveled her body instinctively—but then they stopped.
Right above the soft, delicate place between her thighs—
—glowed a mark.
A faint, heart-shaped sigil with tiny bat wings curling above it.
Soft pink, pulsing faintly like embers waiting to catch flame.
He stared.
Silent.
Mira saw the shock in his eyes and smiled again—gentler this time.
"You weren't supposed to see this yet," she whispered.
Alex met her eyes. "What is it?"
She stepped closer, her tail curling slowly behind her.
"It's a mating bond."
She reached down and touched the symbol lightly, the tips of her fingers glowing faintly in resonance.
"This appears… only when a succubus chooses a true mate. Not just a partner. Not just a lover."
Her voice softened.
"Someone they want to give their entire self to."
She looked down at the mark.
"It's not active yet. But if you release your seed into me—here, tonight—it will glow. It will complete."
"And I'll be yours."
She paused.
"…And you'll be mine."
Alex didn't speak right away.
But she saw it in his eyes.
Not lust.
Not shock.
Something deeper.
He stepped forward and gently took her hand, eyes locked with hers.
"Mira…"
She braced for a joke.
A tease.
Even silence.
But what he said was:
"…Then show me what it means."
Chapter 337 – "The Pleasure That Belongs to Me" (18+)
His back touched the mattress.
The candlelight cast soft shadows across the ceiling as Mira stood above him—naked, radiant, her long violet hair falling like silk over her shoulders, horns gleaming faintly in the warm glow.
She looked at him with hunger.
But not the devouring kind.
The worshipful kind.
The kind of hunger that wanted to give, not take.
"You don't have to do anything tonight," she whispered, crawling up over him, her knees sliding along the bed on either side of his hips.
Her voice was velvet and promise.
"I'll give you everything."
He started to speak—but she placed a single finger on his lips.
"Shh."
"I said… everything."
She leaned down and kissed him—slowly, deeply, her breasts brushing his chest, her body warm and electric against his.
Then she sat back up and began undressing him.
Piece by piece.
She slid his shirt up and over his chest, running her hands down his torso as she did, her nails grazing the lines of his muscle like she was tracing a ritual.
Then his pants.
Then the rest.
Until he lay beneath her—completely bare.
Hard.
Waiting.
She looked down and smiled at what she saw.
Her tail curled slowly behind her… then slid down to wrap itself gently around his leg.
He twitched slightly at the feeling—slick, warm, pulsing faintly with her magic.
"You like that?" she teased, voice low.
He nodded silently.
She leaned down and nuzzled against his jaw.
"My tail's sensitive," she whispered into his ear. "You can touch it. Or suck it. I'll melt if you do."
She kissed down his neck, her tail gently stroking his thigh in a slow rhythm.
Then she shifted upward, straddling his waist.
Her hands pressed to his chest as she positioned herself over him—her tail tightening slightly with anticipation.
"You've made love to a lot of women," she murmured, lowering herself slowly.
"But this…"
She gasped softly as she began to sink down onto him.
"…this will be different."
Alex's hands instinctively reached for her hips, but she gently pushed them back down.
"No," she said. "Not tonight."
Her eyes burned with quiet authority.
"Tonight, I give. You receive."
She moved.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Her warmth engulfed him inch by inch, her body wrapping around his in tight, slick heat. Her wings fluttered faintly behind her. Her tail curled tighter. She moaned into his neck as he filled her completely.
And then—
She began to ride.
Mira moved with the grace of something ancient—and the hunger of someone newly claimed.
Her hips rose and fell slowly at first, grinding down in smooth, deliberate circles. Each movement was precise, guided not just by instinct, but by devotion. Her hands rested firmly on his chest, using him as both anchor and altar.
Alex lay beneath her, letting her take control—just as she'd asked.
Her body gripped him tightly with each motion, her warmth pulling him deeper, again and again. The sensation was intense—not just physical, but emotional. He could feel her through every pulse of her body, through the light trembling in her thighs, and the small breathless moans that escaped her lips with every downward motion.
Her tail, still wrapped around his leg, twitched slightly with every thrust.
She leaned forward, her violet hair cascading over his chest, and brought her tail up to his lips.
"Here," she whispered, voice thick with heat, "suck it."
Alex obeyed.
His lips closed gently around the tapered, sensitive tip.
And Mira shivered.
Her rhythm faltered—just for a moment—as she let out a sharp, gasping moan.
"A-Alex…!"
Her tail pulsed in his mouth, warm and slick, her magic trembling through it. She bit her lip hard, her wings twitching faintly as he sucked, licked, and teased the tender flesh with his tongue.
"It feels…" she breathed, trembling, "so good when you do that…"
Her hips moved faster now—less controlled, more desperate. Her hands gripped his shoulders. The moans in her throat turned into whimpers, then into gasps as her walls began to clench more tightly around him.
"I'm close," she said. "So close…"
She threw her head back, riding him harder now, thighs slapping softly against his hips with wet, rhythmic sounds. The room filled with the scent of mana and sex, her aura thickening with every wave of heat building between them.
And then—
It happened.
Just as she slammed down one final time, burying him deep inside her—
The heart-shaped mark above her slit began to glow.
Not faintly.
Bright.
Pulsing.
The tiny bat wings curled upward as the glow intensified into a soft, pinkish-gold light. It spread over her lower stomach, her hips, and even her chest—radiating warmth and magic in waves.
Mira screamed his name, her entire body locking up, trembling violently as she came—hard.
Her orgasm crashed through her like a storm of light and shadow, her body spasming in waves as her tail wrapped tightly around his thigh, clinging to him.
Her walls clenched around him, milking him, pulling him into her with heat and hunger.
And Alex—already teetering at the edge—groaned deeply and released inside her.
His warmth poured into her womb in long, pulsing bursts.
And the moment it touched the glowing mark—
It ignited.
The symbol flared with radiant succubus magic, glowing like a seal etched by passion itself. It pulsed once… then twice… before settling into a soft, steady glow.
Complete.
Claimed.
Bound.
Mira collapsed onto him, breathless, trembling, wings barely unfurled, her tail twitching in slow, satisfied pulses.
"…It's done," she whispered against his neck.
Alex wrapped his arms around her.
"You're mine now," she said with a breathless, quiet laugh. "Fully."
And then—softer, gentler:
"…And I'm yours."
Mira lay sprawled across his chest, her body warm, skin glowing with residual energy. The mating mark still pulsed softly above her core, the bond sealed—complete. Her breath came in soft, uneven waves, wings half-unfurled behind her like a veil of midnight and fire.
But as the minutes passed, her breathing changed.
Not to calm.
But to stir again.
She shifted—slowly—her thighs tightening slightly around his hips. Her hand slid down his chest, nails dragging lightly across his skin.
And then—
She pushed herself up, violet hair tumbling forward over her shoulders.
Her eyes met his.
Still glowing.
Still hungry.
"…That wasn't enough."
Alex blinked. "…What?"
She leaned in, brushing her lips along the edge of his jaw.
"I don't want to end it here," she whispered.
Her voice trembled—not from shyness.
From want.
"That felt amazing," she said, grinding her hips slowly down against his recovering body. "But I've been waiting so long… and I need more."
Her tail wrapped around his wrist this time.
"I need to make sure I never forget how this body feels with you inside it."
She sat up again—straddling him—her thighs glistening, her core still twitching softly from her previous climax.
Alex looked up at her, surprised for only a moment.
Then he nodded.
"Alright."
Her breath caught slightly at how easily he accepted.
No teasing. No challenge.
Just support.
Just love.
And she felt it.
That was what made him dangerous.
He didn't resist.
He welcomed her.
Because he understood.
Because he loved her.
And because he knew—Mira wasn't like Vira.
Vira gave orders.
Vira dominated because it was in her blood, her pride, her nobility.
She demanded his obedience in bed the same way she ruled a court—with commands, ceremony, and power. She tied his hands, gave him collars, pushed him down, and whispered rules like a queen sculpting a kingdom from heat and rhythm.
And he accepted it.
Because that was her love.
But Mira?
Mira took.
She didn't need control.
She needed contact.
Heat.
Mess.
Honesty.
She moved on instinct, not pride—she wanted his breath, his sweat, the way he moaned her name like she was the only thing that existed in that moment.
She leaned down again, her forehead resting against his.
"You're mine now," she whispered.
"But I'm going to make sure I remember it every time I move tomorrow."
He smirked faintly.
"…Then come take what you want."
Her smile curved like firelight.
And she began again.
This time harder.
Deeper.
Faster.
She began to move again.
Not slowly this time.
Not testing.
Taking.
Mira's hands pressed to his chest as her hips crashed down—wet, hot, desperate. Her thighs trembled from overstimulation, but she didn't stop. Her body welcomed him greedily, clenching tightly around his growing length as he hardened again inside her, already slick with their shared heat.
She moaned—deep and open, no restraint now.
"F-fuck, Alex…"
Every thrust drove another cry from her lips, her head tipping back, sweat trailing down her chest as her hips slapped against his with wet, rhythmic sounds. Her tail curled tightly behind her, twitching like a live wire.
Her wings opened fully this time.
Black-violet and beautiful.
Unhidden.
Unshamed.
Her entire body glowed with lust-fueled mana, her skin shimmering with runes that pulsed in time with her heartbeat.
Alex grunted beneath her, his hands gripping her hips instinctively now as she rode him hard.
But she didn't let him take over.
When his hands tried to guide the pace—she pushed them away.
"No," she growled, breath hitching.
"This is mine."
She braced herself again—hands flat on his chest, muscles flexing—and slammed down harder.
Faster.
Her core clenched with every drop of movement, milking him, grinding against him, her soaked heat dripping down between them.
"Look at me," she demanded, voice trembling, but sharp.
He did.
Her eyes were wild.
Not cruel.
Not cold.
Just honest.
A woman completely consumed by need.
A fallen angel, a succubus—in love.
Her voice cracked mid-thrust.
"I wanted this… so much it hurt."
Alex reached up—cupped her face gently through the chaos of her rhythm.
"Mira…"
She leaned into his hand—then shuddered violently as he thrust upward suddenly, deep and full.
She screamed his name, wings spasming.
Her climax struck hard, her walls pulsing, her nails digging into his skin as her entire body collapsed forward against him—still moving, even through the pleasure.
"D-Don't stop," she whispered hoarsely into his neck.
"D-Don't… stop…"
He didn't.
He gripped her hips and began thrusting up into her now, taking over only as her strength gave out.
Each movement was powerful, deep, stretching her open with every pulse of his shaft.
She was drooling against his neck.
Tears in her eyes.
Overwhelmed. Full. Loved.
"Please," she whispered, "Fill me again…"
"Make it glow brighter."
He held her tight, drove into her harder—one last time—and then groaned deeply as he spilled himself inside her again.
The glowing heart-shaped mark on her lower body flared brighter than before.
Steady.
Complete.
Irrevocable.
She sobbed with the release, her entire body collapsing against him, trembling in aftershock.
And this time…
She didn't say anything.
She just cried.
Soft, gasping breaths against his chest—happy, raw, and utterly undone.
Alex held her.
Wrapped his arms around her trembling form.
And whispered against her sweat-damp hair:
"I'm not going anywhere."
The room was dim and warm.
The candle had burned low, flickering softly on the nightstand. Their bodies were tangled beneath the sheets—skin against skin, breath against breath.
Mira lay on top of him, her head resting just below his collarbone, her arms folded possessively around his waist. Her wings had faded back into her body. Her tail lay curled loosely around his thigh, twitching now and then like it still remembered the rhythm.
She wasn't speaking.
Not teasing.
Not purring.
Just… breathing.
Peacefully.
Until, finally—her voice came, soft and muffled against his chest:
"…Do you know what it takes to get a succubus pregnant?"
Alex exhaled slowly. "Yeah… Morgan told me."
She shifted slightly, her cheek rubbing against his skin as she smiled lazily.
"Then you know it's not easy…"
He nodded.
"Years," he said. "Of non-stop sex. Dozens, sometimes. You have to be with one partner, over and over, until your souls align."
Mira hummed.
Then whispered:
"…Good."
Alex glanced down at her.
She nuzzled closer, her voice quiet and completely serious now.
"Then next time…"
"…We'll go for years."
A silence followed.
But not awkward.
Not fearful.
Just a quiet vow spoken from a woman who knew what she wanted—and who she wanted it with.
Alex wrapped his arms around her more tightly.
"…Then I'll keep up with you."
Mira smirked softly.
And whispered—
"You'd better."
The candlelight dimmed.
And the room sank into the soft, shared breath of two souls resting—
Bound.
Warm.
And no longer waiting.
Chapter 338 – "A Body Shared, A Heart Revealed" (18+)
The room was quiet.
Sheets tangled.
Skin bare.
Alex had dozed off slightly, one arm wrapped loosely around her waist, his breathing deep and steady. The candlelight had finally gone out, leaving only the faint moonlight glowing in from the window.
Mira stretched languidly atop his chest, basking in the afterglow of hours of pleasure.
But her thoughts weren't on herself anymore.
She glanced at the heart-shaped mark glowing faintly just below her navel—pale pink now, but still pulsing gently.
"Hey, Mary," she whispered inside.
"…Y-Yes…?"
Mira smirked. "Want to switch?"
"I-I'm not ready!"
"Too late."
Before Mary could protest again, Mira added:
"You felt everything anyway. Every stroke, every thrust. You came when I came. And…"
She grinned.
"You loved it."
Mary blushed so hard her soul trembled.
"T-That's not… I mean, I didn't hate it…"
"Exactly."
Mira sat up slightly, brushing Alex's cheek one last time.
Then whispered aloud—softly, just for herself:
"Don't forget… he made us feel that way."
And with a final stretch, she let go.
Her body shimmered.
The glowing runes faded.
Her hair turned a soft blue—cool and calm like moonlit waves.
Her horns and tail vanished completely.
And those bold violet eyes faded to gentle blue.
Alex stirred faintly as her form shifted in his arms.
And now…
It was Mary lying atop him.
Same body.
Different soul.
Different presence.
Softer.
Shyer.
Her hands pressed against his chest.
Her breath caught.
She glanced down—
And froze.
Because even with the transformation…
The mark remained.
That small, pink heart with bat wings still glowed faintly just above her sacred place.
Mary's entire face turned scarlet.
She couldn't look away.
Her hands instinctively moved to cover it—but she didn't.
Not quite.
She stared.
Not with disgust.
Not with fear.
But a kind of stunned awe.
"So… this is what a bond looks like…"
She swallowed hard.
"…I-It's pretty…"
"You like it, huh?" Mira teased from within.
"…I do. But I—I won't say it out loud…"
"Too late, sweetheart. I heard everything."
Mary flushed harder.
Then Mira added with a wicked grin in her voice:
"Next time you sleep with him… show him that mark on purpose."
"W-Why?!"
"Because when he sees it… he gets hard."
"Immediately."
Mary squeaked.
"MIRA!!"
"You're welcome."
Mary looked down again.
The mark still glowed softly.
And for a moment, she traced it with her fingers.
A small smile touched her lips.
She didn't say it.
But Mira heard it anyway.
"…Thank you."
She lay quietly against Alex, her cheek resting on his chest.
His arms were still around her—warm and steady. She listened to his heartbeat, slow and calm, grounding her from the embarrassment still burning in her face.
Then she felt him stir.
A quiet breath.
Fingers gently brushing her back.
He was waking.
"…Mary?" he mumbled, voice low and husky.
She lifted her head slightly and nodded.
"I'm here," she said softly.
He blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the moonlight, and gently brushed a strand of hair from her face.
Before either of them could say anything more—
"Ah! That's right!" Mira's voice rang out inside Mary's mind, sudden and triumphant.
"I forgot! I haven't drunk his pee yet!"
Mary froze.
"W-What?! NO—!"
"It's part of the full experience! I've tasted his lips, his sweat, his seed… but not that."
"MIRA STOP—!"
"Too late~"
In an instant, control shifted.
Her body shimmered again.
The soft blue hair darkened into violet. Her shy expression melted into a slow, hungry grin. Her horns reappeared. Her tail uncoiled.
Alex sat up slightly, blinking in surprise as Mira returned—now perched on his lap, glowing and completely naked again.
She looked down at him with a sultry smile.
"Alex," she purred, "I need something from you."
"…What is it this time?" he asked warily, still half-dazed from sleep.
She leaned in, her lips nearly brushing his ear.
"I want to drink your pee."
Alex blinked. "…You're serious?"
"Dead serious," she said, tail flicking.
"I've heard from Ciel. I've tasted everything else you've given me. But not this. And my instincts won't let me rest until I do."
She looked him in the eye with complete sincerity.
"I won't spill a single drop."
"I'll drink it all."
"…Right now."
Alex stared at her for a moment.
Then sighed softly.
"…Fine."
Mira's eyes lit up with delight.
He shifted slightly—positioning himself on the bed—and Mira knelt in front of him, tail gently swaying, her eyes locked to his.
She held him softly in both hands, her breath warm against his skin.
"Go ahead," she whispered.
"I'm ready."
Alex let go—trusting her.
The golden stream began.
And true to her word…
Mira didn't spill a single drop.
Her lips wrapped around him gently, drinking slowly, her throat working as she swallowed every bit with reverence and hunger. Her eyes fluttered shut, a low, delighted sound humming from her chest.
Sweet.
Warm.
Addictive.
When he finished, she pulled back, licking her lips, her tail curling around her ankle like a cat in heat.
"…Delicious," she whispered. "Just like Ciel said."
Inside, Mary was trembling.
"I-I can't believe you really did it…"
"Oh, I didn't just do it," Mira purred. "I loved it."
She crawled back up to Alex's chest, grinning.
"And now," she whispered, lips against his throat, "there's no part of you I haven't tasted…"
"Except…"
She looked up at him, eyes glowing.
"…Maybe your soul."
Mira stretched like a satisfied predator, her tail lazily flicking behind her as she lay across his lap. The room smelled faintly of sweat, sex, and something strangely sweet.
But she wasn't finished.
Not yet.
She sat up suddenly, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Wait."
She picked up an empty glass of water from the nightstand and swirled it thoughtfully, then looked back at him with that glint of curiosity that always came just before something outrageous.
"Pee in this."
Alex blinked. "…Again?"
Mira grinned. "Yes."
He raised a brow. "You just—"
"Shh," she cut in, wagging a finger. "That was warm and direct. This will be room temperature and clear. A different experience. I want to compare."
He sighed, but there was no irritation in it—just bemused affection.
He did as she asked, filling the glass slowly.
Mira held it delicately with both hands, like a sacred offering. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled like a wine connoisseur, then smiled.
"…Even better than I expected."
Inside, Mary was panicking.
"No, no, no—Mira, stop!"
"What?" Mira cooed. "We share a body. You already felt it the first time. Why not taste it too?"
"That's not the same! I can't—"
"Too late~"
Mira giggled softly to herself, then whispered aloud:
"Enjoy the moment, Mary."
And with a final wink, she let go.
The glow in her body shifted.
Horns vanished.
Tail dissolved.
The violet hair softened back to gentle blue.
Mary blinked rapidly, now sitting naked in Alex's lap—still holding the glass of golden water in trembling hands.
Her eyes widened as she realized what she was holding.
Her face turned crimson in an instant.
Alex sat silently, simply watching her.
She stared at the glass.
Then slowly, silently—
She put it down.
Carefully.
Gently.
Without a sip.
"…I-I can't," she whispered.
"Coward," Mira teased from inside.
"S-Shut up…"
"…You liked it."
"D-Don't say it out loud…"
Alex gently reached forward and took her hand.
Mary looked at him—embarrassed, glowing, but smiling despite herself.
"…Sorry," she murmured. "I'm not as bold as her."
He kissed her fingers softly.
"You don't have to be."
She exhaled, relieved.
And leaned into his chest, warm and safe.
They dressed slowly.
Not awkwardly—but gently.
There was no shame, only silence and the lingering warmth of skin remembered. Mary had tied a ribbon into her hair, choosing white today, while Alex buttoned his collar like always, neat and careful.
By the door, they stood together.
She looked up at him, still flustered from all Mira had done—but also glowing in her own quiet way.
"Will you visit again soon?" she asked softly.
He smiled.
"Of course."
She hesitated, then tiptoed forward and kissed him—soft and short, like a breath of hope pressed to his lips.
"Good," she whispered.
And then he was gone, vanishing in a shimmer of golden light as his teleportation spell pulled him gently home.
The room fell silent.
Mary stood in place for a long moment, fingers laced at her waist, her heart still beating a little too fast.
And then—
Her eyes drifted to the nightstand.
The glass.
It still sat there.
Untouched.
But not forgotten.
She stepped toward it slowly, drawn without resistance. Her fingers curled around it, lifting it gently.
It was still warm.
She stared into it.
Swallowed hard.
Her face flushed again.
"You don't have to," Mira said gently from within, not teasing now. "But if you want to… I'll be very proud."
Mary hesitated.
Then…
Smiled faintly.
"…Just one sip," she whispered.
She lifted the glass.
And drank.
Not in one gulp—just a slow, cautious taste.
Her lips parted as the warmth spread across her tongue.
And her eyes widened slightly.
"…It's really…"
"Delicious?" Mira finished, grinning.
Mary didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
Because she lifted the glass again.
Took another sip.
And smiled.
"You liked it."
"…I won't say I didn't."
"You adorable little pervert."
"…Shut up."
She set the glass down, face warm, heart lighter than it had been in days.
She looked out the window, where the night had begun to break, the stars fading into pale blue morning.
And whispered softly—
"…Thank you, Alex."
She set the glass back down—still warm in her hand—and exhaled softly.
The aftertaste lingered on her tongue: sweet, faintly magical, and undeniably… his.
She pressed her fingers to her lips, trying not to smile too hard.
And that's when—
"Why didn't you finish it?" Mira's voice teased gently from inside. "Or are you saving it for after you pray?"
Mary flushed instantly.
"I-I just wanted a taste!"
"Mmhmm…" Mira purred. "You sure? Or maybe you want to sip the rest slowly while kneeling at the altar, like a proper holy girl?"
"MIRA!"
"What? I'm just admiring your self-control. I would've finished it in one gulp."
"You're awful…"
"You love me."
Mary crossed her arms, cheeks still pink, and looked away toward the little altar at the edge of her room.
"…Maybe."
She glanced back at the glass—still sitting innocently on the nightstand.
She wasn't planning to touch it again.
Probably.
Maybe.
"…You're thinking about it."
"…I'm not."
"You are."
Mary sighed.
But a tiny, helpless smile formed on her lips.
She turned toward the altar, hands gently folding in front of her.
"I'll pray first," she whispered.
"Then sip later?"
"…Maybe."
Chapter 339 – "Where They Wait, Where They Watch"
The morning light filtered through the windows in soft sheets of gold. Alex moved quietly through the kitchen, hands steady as he prepared tea. The hum of mana was faint, but steady—alive beneath his skin.
He looked at the back of his right hand.
Three colors shimmered there, calm and radiant in the glow:
Ciel's goldMorgan's silverReyne's crimson-violet
No shapes.
No designs.
Not yet.
Only the colors that marked their presence.
But each one was real.
Bound by a soul-thread. Tied not to space, not to time—but to him.
No matter where they were—
Whether in another city, in the skies, in a battle, or dreaming far away—
They could enter the mark anytime.
Distance didn't matter.
Emotion did.
With a thought, a desire, a flicker of longing or love, they could fold themselves into light and join him—curling up just beneath his skin, where his pulse ran steady and his breath carried warmth meant only for them.
They could watch.
They could feel.
They could stay.
He rubbed his thumb across the surface of the sigil, not to activate it—but as a greeting.
"I know you're here," he whispered.
Inside the mark, the three presences stirred—soft pulses of gold, silver, and crimson-violet brushing lightly against his consciousness.
He didn't need words to hear them.
He could feel it:
They were listening.
The spoon clinked softly in the porcelain teacup.
Steam rose in lazy spirals.
Alex stood at the stove, letting the scent of black tea drift upward as sunlight warmed his shoulders. His right hand rested lightly on the counter, palm down, the three-colored glow on its back pulsing in a gentle, living rhythm.
Then—
a voice touched his mind.
Not with sound, but sensation.
Soft.
Cool.
Precise.
"You left her satisfied."
Alex blinked.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"…Reyne."
Her presence shimmered softly—crimson-violet, curling like dusk mist beneath his skin.
"We watched everything. Mira was… bolder than I expected."
Alex chuckled quietly. "That's putting it lightly."
"And Mary… she surprised me."
He stirred the tea.
"She's stronger than people think," he said. "Even herself."
Reyne's energy flickered—like candlelight held still in a windless room.
"And you," she said slowly. "You were… gentle. Intentional. I didn't think that kind of patience could exist with someone like Mira."
Alex lifted the cup, sipping calmly.
"I don't treat them the same," he said. "Because they're not the same."
"And if I wanted that patience?"
He paused.
Set the cup down.
"You already have it," he said. "You've always had it."
There was silence on the line for a moment—warm, but unreadable.
Then, finally—
"Good."
Her presence pulsed once—soft and sure.
Not possessive.
Not hungry.
Just there.
Constant.
Like something old and waiting.
And then—
From within the golden hue beside her, Ciel's warmth rose gently.
"He made honeyed bread this morning. Don't distract him too much."
Reyne's tone rippled faintly—half teasing.
"Are you his steward now?"
"No. I'm the one who makes sure he eats properly."
"I suppose that's noble."
"It's necessary."
From the silver pulse between them, Morgan stirred.
"And I'm the one who makes sure he sleeps."
Alex smiled faintly.
"I can hear all of you, you know."
All three colors pulsed—once.
And in unison, without hesitation, they answered:
"We know."
Vatican, Late Morning
The chapel lights had dimmed.
Her final prayer ended in a whisper, fingers pressed gently together as she bowed her head beneath the glow of stained glass. The cathedral had emptied. The sun streamed through colored windows, painting her shoulders in hues of rose and sapphire.
She stood.
Turned.
Walked in silence.
Down the familiar marble corridor. Past the closed doors and polite greetings. Up two quiet flights of stairs.
Into her room.
Once inside, she locked the door.
The moment the latch clicked shut, her breath caught—softly. Not from guilt, but anticipation.
She crossed to the wooden drawer beneath her bookshelf.
The third one from the top.
She unlocked it carefully with the silver key she kept hidden in the hem of her prayer robe.
It creaked open.
And there—nestled beneath folds of velvet cloth—was a single glass bottle.
Inside swirled a faintly glowing liquid.
Pale gold.
Still luminous.
Still warm.
Alex's pee.
She blushed deeply as her fingers wrapped around the bottle, lifting it with both hands like a sacred chalice.
She didn't drink it the day Mira gave it to her.
She'd sealed it.
Saved it.
For later.
For this moment.
Mary sat at the edge of her bed, holding the bottle close, as if it radiated comfort. Her heart pounded — not from shame, but from how much she had wanted this without saying it aloud.
She uncorked the top.
A warm, sweet scent drifted out.
Her cheeks burned.
Then—
She lifted it to her lips.
And took a small, reverent sip.
Her eyes widened.
Even now…
After all this time…
It was still warm.
Still sweet.
Still perfect.
A soft breath escaped her lips as she whispered, without even realizing:
"…Delicious."
"You really did save it," Mira's voice echoed in her mind, half-proud, half-amused.
Mary didn't answer.
She took another sip.
And smiled.
She took one more sip from the warm bottle, holding it with both hands, her eyes half-closed.
There was no shame left.
Only a quiet, glowing kind of happiness — like warmth tucked beneath her skin.
And then—
"So…" Mira's voice purred inside her mind, honey-smooth. "You really did save it."
Mary froze mid-sip.
"I-I… It's not like that."
"Oh, please," Mira chuckled. "You tucked it into a drawer, wrapped it in velvet, and locked it like it was a holy relic."
Mary flushed harder.
"I was… preserving it."
"You were adoring it."
Mary didn't reply. Her lips quivered into the faintest smile.
Mira's voice grew softer, but no less mischievous.
"You want more, don't you?"
"…No."
"Liar."
"…I can't ask him for that."
"Then lucky for you," Mira said sweetly, "you don't have to."
Mary blinked. "W-What do you mean?"
Mira's presence curled around her thoughts like silk.
"Next time I'm in control, I'll collect a fresh bottle for you."
Mary's heart skipped.
"Still warm. Still glowing. Straight from the source."
"Mira—!"
"Don't worry, I'll label it. 'For Mary's Private Devotion.'"
"You're awful…"
"You love it."
Mary covered her face with both hands, shoulders trembling.
She didn't deny it.
Not this time.
"You're welcome," Mira whispered, smiling in her mind.
Chapter 340 – "The Reason He Remembers"
From Morgan's perspective
It was late evening.
Ciel was reading quietly by the window. The golden glow of her sigil pulsed gently beneath Alex's skin. Morgan sat curled on the other side of his bed, folded into the shadows, her silver aura dimmed to nearly invisible.
She hadn't spoken for most of the day.
Until now.
"…Alex."
His head tilted slightly. "Hm?"
She didn't meet his eyes.
"I need to ask something. Not as your lover… but as the girl who once cast a spell and lost you."
He turned fully toward her, setting the book aside.
Her voice didn't tremble.
"Why do you still remember Reyne? Hanabi? Mary? Even Vira? They were supernatural children too. Just like me. You shouldn't remember them either."
A pause.
A soft intake of breath.
"Why them… and not me?"
The question hung in the air — sharp, but not bitter. It wasn't jealousy. It was the cry of someone who had once believed she was invisible, and now sought proof that she wasn't forgotten again.
Alex looked down at his hand — at the silver sigil that shimmered just beside Ciel's gold and Reyne's crimson-violet. He rubbed his thumb across it slowly.
"…I've wondered that too," he said finally.
Morgan looked up, quietly surprised.
He continued.
"I forgot so many. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. Their faces… their voices. All gone. But some came back. Not all at once. But little by little. When I saw them… or heard them speak."
He looked her in the eyes now.
"I think I remember them because… I've changed."
Morgan's breath caught.
"My stats weren't always this high. I didn't have the WILL to resist supernatural effects when I was a child. But now…"
He opened his system menu.
WILL: 57,594
"It's not just resistance to curses or illusions," he said softly. "I think it stabilizes my soul. My memories. My sense of self. Even if magic tries to make me forget something — now, it can't. Not easily."
Morgan sat still, her thoughts catching fire behind her pale eyes.
"You mean… if your WILL had been this high back then…"
"I wouldn't have forgotten you," he said without hesitation.
The words hit harder than any spell she'd ever cast.
She turned away slightly.
"I always thought… it was my fault."
"It wasn't."
"I tried to bind myself to your soul," she whispered, fingers curling around the edge of her sleeve. "But it broke. I messed up the knot. The backlash—"
"You cared enough to try," Alex said gently. "That matters more to me than the result."
Morgan looked back at him — and for the first time, let her expression soften. Truly soften.
"Would you let me try again?" she asked, barely audible.
Alex smiled.
"I'd trust you with my soul."
Morgan blinked — just once.
Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out something old, folded, and scorched.
A ribbon.
The same one.
"I kept it," she murmured.
"Good," he said.
They sat together in silence.
Not just remembering — but rebuilding.
She stared at the ribbon in her lap — the one she had once tried to use to force him to remember her.
It was burned at the edges. The fabric was fragile. It still smelled faintly of old magic and ash.
Once, it had been her desperate hope.
Her only tether.
Her only proof that she mattered to him.
But now…
She glanced at the back of his hand.
The silver glow.
Her glow.
A symbol woven not through a spell of desperation, but a connection freely chosen — by both of them.
"I don't need this anymore," she said quietly, setting the ribbon down on the windowsill. "I thought I did. But…"
She looked at him, eyes sharp, but calm.
"You remember me now. Not because I forced you to. But because I belong here."
Alex smiled — not indulgently, not out of pity, but with deep understanding.
"You never left," he said. "You just waited longer than anyone else."
She gave a small breath of amusement.
"I always had more patience than the others."
"You had more pain, too."
Morgan looked at the silver mark again.
It pulsed softly — in tune with his heartbeat.
Her place.
Her home.
Not as a forgotten girl…
But as the woman whose presence would never fade again.
"I don't need a soul-knot anymore," she whispered.
Alex nodded. "You already live with me."
"…Inside your breath," she murmured, "and beside your pulse."
Then, more softly—
"That's enough."
She stood.
Stepped closer.
And kissed his cheek — lightly, like a seal.
"You don't need to say my name out loud," she said. "I already hear it in the way you remember me."
The room had grown quiet again.
Morgan had just kissed his cheek and taken her place curled near his side, her silver hair spilling like moonlight over his arm. She seemed content—settled in a way he rarely saw her.
Then—
A soft crimson-violet shimmer stirred beside his palm.
Another presence folded outward from the symbol on his hand.
Reyne.
She emerged calmly, arms crossed, her long dark-violet hair flowing like silk as she stood near the foot of the bed. Her gaze flicked once between Morgan and Alex, then settled on the discarded ribbon on the windowsill.
"…So that's the infamous ribbon," she said flatly.
Morgan didn't move. "It served its purpose."
Reyne raised an eyebrow. "That purpose being melodramatic childhood trauma?"
Morgan said without shame. "What's your excuse for nearly decapitating him during a spar?"
Reyne ignored the jab and turned her eyes to Alex.
"Can we talk about how many girls from your childhood have come back, all in love with you?"
Alex blinked.
Then blinked again.
Morgan tilted her head, expression calm but predatory.
"Yes," she said. "Let's."
Alex coughed.
"I—I didn't ask for any of that. I was a polite kid!"
Reyne tapped her chin. "Let's count. Me. Hanabi. Vira. Mary. Mira. Morgan. That's six already. Possibly more."
Morgan held up her hand. "There's the high elf girl who tried to duel him thirty-two times."
"Vira," Reyne said.
"No, the other one. The older cousin."
Alex muttered, "That wasn't a love thing…"
Morgan smirked. "She declared marriage combat."
Reyne chuckled.
"Alex," she said, stepping closer and sitting at the edge of the bed, "were you secretly the main character in some magical girl series as a child?"
Alex buried his face in his hands. "Please stop."
Reyne leaned forward.
"So… how many more do you think will show up?"
Morgan joined in. "Shall we take bets? I say three."
Reyne: "Five."
Alex groaned. "Zero. Please, zero."
Morgan smiled.
"Wrong," she said, placing her hand over his heart. "Because there's still one."
Reyne raised a brow. "Who?"
Morgan's eyes glinted silver.
"…The one whose name he hasn't remembered yet."