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

Melisa's entire body ached in ways that would make a yoga instructor cry. Sirah had fucked her three more times after that first round, each session more athletic than the last.

Now the darian slept like the dead, one arm thrown possessively over Melisa's waist like she was a teddy bear.

[Finally. Jesus fucking Christ, finally.]

Moving slowly enough to make a sloth jealous, Melisa slipped out from under Sirah's arm. The warrior didn't even twitch.

[Thank fuck for post-sex comas. Best invention ever.]

She crept to the tent entrance on legs that felt like jelly, peering through the gap. The camp was quiet, most warriors either asleep or stumbling around on patrol duty. The bush where Isabella and Raven had hidden stood about twenty feet away, looking innocent as hell.

Melisa held her breath and darted outside, completely naked because finding her clothes in the dark without waking Sirah was not happening. The cold night air hit her sticky skin like a bitch slap.

[Shit, shit, shit. Cold. So fucking cold.]

The letter was right where they'd left it, wedged under a rock. She grabbed it and rushed back inside, heart hammering hard enough to crack ribs.

Sirah hadn't moved. Still dead to the world.

Melisa unrolled the parchment with shaking hands, angling it toward the dying lantern light.

Melisa,

Tomorrow. Raven gets captured on purpose. Once she's in, we attack from the west to draw fighters out. She breaks you out from inside. Be ready.

Melisa memorized every word before shoving the letter into the dying embers of the brazier. It caught instantly, curling into ash and taking her anxiety with it.

Tomorrow. She just had to survive until tomorrow.

[One more day. One more day of this bullshit and I'm free. I can do this. Probably.]

She crawled back into bed, trying not to wake the sleeping murder machine beside her.

---

{Raven}

Raven crouched behind a boulder, watching the darian patrol approach like they owned the world. Five warriors, heavily armed, moving in standard formation that screamed "we're tough as nails."

"Remember," Captain Fenris whispered beside her. "We engage, we retreat, you get captured. Simple."

Simple. Right.

Isabella stared at the patrol, looking a little nervous.

"This is stupid," she muttered. "What if they just kill her?"

"They won't," Armia said from behind them, adjusting her grip on her sword. "A lone Syux soldier? They'll want information."

"Or they'll want to make an example," Isabella shot back, her voice tight with worry.

"Quiet," Fenris hissed. "They're almost in position."

The darians drew closer, their boots crunching on dead leaves. Raven's hand found her sword hilt, muscle memory taking over.

[Three... two... one...]

"Now!"

They burst from cover like hell itself had opened up.

Isabella launched a fire spell that caught the lead darian square in the chest, sending him flying backward into a tree with a crack that definitely meant broken bones. Armia's sword took another in the shoulder, spinning him around. Fenris moved quickly, her blade finding gaps in armor like it was magnetized to flesh.

The darians regrouped quickly, forming a defensive circle that actually looked competent.

"Syux dogs!" one shouted, spitting blood. "Kill them all!"

The fight was brutal, but brief.

They'd planned it perfectly—make it look real, but leave an escape route (just in case they really didn't feel like taking prisoners today). One by one, the Syux fighters "retreated" under overwhelming pressure, selling their panic beautifully.

"Fall back!" Fenris shouted, very convincingly. "We're outnumbered!"

Isabella shot Raven one last worried look that said "please don't die, you emotionless bitch" before following orders. In seconds, Raven stood alone against three remaining darians who looked pissed as hell.

[... It's time.]

She attacked with everything she had, unleashing years of that assassin training in a flurry of steel. Her sword opened the throat of one warrior before he could blink. The second lost his hand, then his head in quick succession. The third barely managed to parry her strikes, backing away with eyes wide as dinner plates.

More darians poured from the treeline like angry ants. Ten, fifteen, twenty. Way more than intelligence had suggested.

[Too many. Perfect.]

Raven kept fighting, but let herself be pushed back step by step.

A spear shaft grazed her knee, sending lightning up her leg. A sword pommel struck her temple, making stars explode across her vision. She allowed both hits to happen, and on cue, she went down hard.

"Bind her!" someone ordered. "Quickly!"

Rough hands grabbed her arms, yanking them behind her back hard enough to pop joints. Rope bit into her wrists like angry snakes.

"Check for weapons."

They stripped her methodically, finding three hidden knives, two poison vials, and her lockpicks. They missed the thin metal wire woven into her hair, which was exactly the point.

[Amateurs.]

"What do we do with her?"

"Take her to the Blood Sister. She'll want to question this one personally."

They hauled Raven to her feet. Blood ran from her temple, making everything spin slightly like she was drunk on violence.

"Move, Syux bitch."

Someone shoved her forward hard enough to make her stumble. She kept her feet through sheer stubbornness.

The march to the darian camp took an hour of pure torture. Raven memorized every step, every landmark, every patrol pattern. By the time they arrived, she had three different escape routes planned and two backup plans in case everything went to hell.

The camp was bigger than their intelligence suggested. More tents, more warriors, more defenses. More everything, really.

[This might be harder than expected.]

They dragged her to a large tent near the center, not Sirah's—she'd memorized that one's location from the mission briefing like her life depended on it.

"Varek," one of her captors called. "We have a prisoner."

A scarred darian emerged, took one look at Raven, and smiled like Christmas had come early.

"Well, well. Syux sends children to fight now?"

Raven said nothing.

"Silent type?" Varek circled her like a predator eyeing dinner. "We'll see how long that lasts."

He grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. His breath smelled like death.

His fist connected with her stomach like a sledgehammer. Raven doubled over, gasping for air that didn't want to come.

She straightened slowly, expression blank as fresh paper.

"Tough one." Varek grinned, showing teeth that had seen better days. "Good. I like it when they last a while."

He turned to the guards.

"Put her with the other prisoners. Let her think about her situation. Tomorrow, we'll have a proper conversation."

[Looking forward to it.]

They dragged Raven to a smaller tent that smelled like fear and unwashed bodies. Inside, three nim huddled together on dirty straw like abandoned puppies. They looked up with frightened eyes as the guards shoved Raven inside.

"Try to escape and we'll gut you," one guard warned before leaving.

Raven waited until their footsteps faded into the night, then examined her surroundings with professional interest. The tent was sturdy but not impenetrable. Two guards outside, probably bored and half-asleep. The nim prisoners watched her warily, like she might explode.

[Phase one complete. Now to find Melisa and get the fuck out of here.]

She settled against the tent wall, closing her eyes and letting her body go limp. Tomorrow would be interesting.

And probably bloody.