Reborn as a Succubus: Time To Live My Best Life!

The rest of the "celebration" involved Melisa sitting on Sirah's lap like the world's most uncomfortable throne.

And by uncomfortable, she meant both physically and mentally. The leather scraps they called an outfit were riding up in places that shouldn't be ridden up, and Sirah's hand stayed glued to Melisa's ass like it was magnetized.

Sirah squeezed hard enough to make her jump. The darian was on her fourth horn of ale. Maybe fifth. Hard to keep track when warriors kept shoving new drinks at their table like they were trying to set a record for "most alcohol consumed before someone dies."

[If I say no to sex tonight, she might not be as understanding as she was earlier.]

The thought made Melisa's stomach do uncomfortable flips. Drunk Sirah could potentially be a very different beast from sober, relatively reasonable Sirah. And considering sober Sirah had just decapitated someone for sport, drunk Sirah was probably not someone she wanted to piss off.

"Tell me about Syux," Sirah said, her breath hot against Melisa's ear. The smell of ale mixed with something that might have been blood. "Is it as exciting as this?"

She punctuated the question with another ass squeeze that made Melisa's eye twitch.

Melisa forced herself to lean into it, releasing just a hint of her pheromones. Not enough to be obvious, she hoped.

"It's different," Melisa said carefully. "Less blood on the floors, for one thing."

Sirah laughed, the sound rumbling through her chest like thunder.

"Boring, then."

"Not boring. Just... civilized."

"Civilized." Sirah said it like it was a disease. "Your queen sits in her stone palace, sending others to die for her. At least we fight our own battles."

[Yeah, and decapitate people for fun. Super noble. Really showing those civilized folks how it's done.]

The warriors around them were getting louder as the night wore on. Someone was telling a story about gutting three humans with one sword stroke. Another group was arm wrestling and betting body parts on the outcome. A few tables over, a darian woman was getting very friendly with a nim man who looked like he was questioning all his life choices.

"Speaking of fighting," Melisa said, trying to steer the conversation somewhere safer than "let's murder everyone in Syux." "That move you did earlier, with the elbow strike. Where'd you learn that?"

Sirah's eyes lit up like Christmas morning. Melisa guessed these warriors probably loved talking about their techniques almost as much as they loved using them to kill people.

"My mother taught me. Before she died in glorious battle against the mountain clans."

She launched into a detailed explanation of combat forms that Melisa only half-listened to. The other half of her attention focused on releasing steady pulses of pheromones, keeping Sirah talking instead of groping her like a stress ball.

"The key is timing," Sirah continued, demonstrating with her free hand while the other stayed firmly planted on Melisa's ass. "Strike at the exact moment they overextend, and you can shatter bone."

"Fascinating," Melisa lied.

"Here." Sirah held up her horn, sloshing ale dangerously close to the rim. "Drink."

"I'm good, thanks."

[Need to stay sober. Maybe I can sneak out later if she passes out. Please let her pass out.]

Sirah's eyes narrowed in a way that made Melisa's survival instincts start screaming.

"I said drink."

"Really, I—"

Before Melisa could finish her protest, Sirah took a massive swig, filling her cheeks like a drunk chipmunk. Then, without warning, she grabbed Melisa's face and pressed their lips together.

The kiss was forceful, messy, and tasted like someone had died in a brewery. Ale flooded Melisa's mouth, bitter and strong enough to strip paint. She had two choices: swallow or choke to death on darian moonshine.

She swallowed.

The liquid burned all the way down.

Sirah pulled back, grinning like she'd just won a prize.

"Better."

The ale hit Melisa's empty stomach like a sucker punch. Her head spun slightly, the tent tilting at weird angles.

[Fuck. So much for staying sober. Great plan, Melisa. Really nailed that one.]

Around them, the party was reaching peak chaos. Someone had started a drinking contest that involved chugging ale while balancing on one foot. Two warriors were having what looked like a very aggressive make-out session against a pillar. And somewhere in the distance, Melisa could hear the distinct sounds of someone getting lucky behind a tent.

[Just another Tuesday night in paradise.]

---

Hours later, back in Sirah's tent, Melisa watched the darian strip with growing dread.

That massive cock hung between Sirah's legs, already half-hard from the alcohol and probably the violence earlier. The piercings caught the lantern light, glinting.

"Tomorrow, we raid the eastern supply route," Sirah said, tossing her armor aside like she was discussing weekend plans. "Cut off their reinforcements. Then, perhaps we'll march on Syux itself. I think those clean floors of yours could use a bit of blood, personally."

[Sure you will. With what army? The drunk idiots outside?]

"We'll burn their precious academy. Take their queen as a prize. Show them what real warriors look like."

Melisa nodded along, not trusting herself to speak. The ale made everything fuzzy around the edges, and she was pretty sure if she opened her mouth, something stupid would fall out.

[Like "you're all fucking insane" or "good luck with that, psycho."]

"You'll help, of course." Sirah turned to face her fully, cock swaying with the movement. Melisa caught herself staring at it and shook her head. "The nim mage fighting for her true people. It will demoralize them completely."

[Like hell I will. I'd rather eat glass.]

"Of course," Melisa lied, hoping her voice sounded more convincing than it felt.

Movement outside caught her eye through a gap in the tent flaps. Something that made her heart stop dead in her chest.

Raven and Isabella, crouched behind a thorny bush about twenty feet away.

"..."

[Am I imagining this?]

If so, someone was casting some top-tier Illusion magic. Isabella was gesturing wildly at something, probably trying to communicate through interpretive dance. Raven just stared at the tent with her usual laser focus, looking like she was mentally cataloging every guard position and escape route.

A scout walked past, spear in hand and looking bored. Both girls froze like deer in headlights.

The scout paused, looking around with the kind of attention that meant he'd heard something. His gaze swept over the bush where her friends were hidden.

Melisa held her breath until her lungs burned.

After what felt like seventeen years, the scout shrugged and moved on.

Isabella pulled something from her belt. A rolled piece of parchment that she placed carefully at the base of the bush, weighing it down with a rock.

Then they were gone, melting back into the darkness like they'd never been there.

[A letter. They left me a letter. Please let it say "we have a plan" and not "we're all fucked."]

"Are you listening?"

Melisa's attention snapped back to Sirah, who stood directly in front of her now. Very naked. Very erect. Very intimidating.

"Sorry, I was just... thinking about tomorrow's raid."

"Good. You should prepare yourself for when I come back bathed in your soldiers' blood."

Melisa couldn't wait any longer. If Sirah kept talking, she might decide to go check outside. Might find the letter. Might realize they were being watched and turn her friends into decorative head ornaments.

[Assuming that letter has some sort of a plan laid out on it, then... I just gotta survive the next few days. Whatever it takes. Even if it means...]

She dropped to her knees.

"Well," Melisa said. "Before you go off and fight... How about I help you relax for tonight?"

Sirah raised a brow, but before she could speak, Melisa swallowed Sirah's cock in one smooth motion.

The darian's words cut off in a strangled gasp that probably woke the neighbors.

"Eager tonight," Sirah managed, her voice strained.

Melisa didn't respond. Couldn't respond with her mouth completely full of pierced darian dick. She focused on the task, using every trick Isabella had taught her over the years. Tongue swirling around the metal rings. Throat relaxing to take more length. Hands working what wouldn't fit.

[My friends are coming. They have a plan, for sure. I just need to stay alive until then. And keep Sirah distracted. Very, very distracted.]

Sirah's hands tangled in her hair.

"That's it. Take it all."

Melisa's eyes watered from the size and angle. Her jaw ached like she was trying to unhinge it. But she kept going, driven by the knowledge that help was coming and she just had to survive long enough to see it.

[Just a few more days. I can do this. I've survived worse. Probably.]