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

{Raven}

Raven watched the soldiers stagger back into camp, their faces grim and bloodied. She counted them quickly. Five left from a patrol of eight.

No Melisa.

She put down the dagger she'd been sharpening and walked toward them. Captain Fenris was already there, her expression hardening as the soldiers gave their report.

"Ambush... came out of nowhere..."

"...took her alive..."

"...didn't have a chance..."

Raven stood perfectly still, absorbing every word.

Isabella and Armia rushed up behind her, drawn by the commotion.

"What's going on?" Isabella asked, her tail bristling. "Where's Melisa?"

"Darians took her," Raven said flatly.

"What? How?" Armia's hand went to her sword. "When?"

One of the soldiers, his face caked with dried blood, looked up at them.

"Redheaded bitch hit her from behind. Knocked her out cold. Took her before we could do anything." His voice cracked. "Killed Bomas and Renn."

Isabella's face drained of color.

"We have to get her back."

Raven was already walking away, heading back to her tent. She pulled out her pack and began methodically filling it with essentials – rope, daggers, dried food, a waterskin.

Isabella and Armia followed her, watching in confusion as she prepared.

"What are you doing?" Armia asked.

Raven didn't even look up.

"What do you mean? I'm going to get Melisa back."

"Just like that? By yourself?" Isabella's voice rose. "Against an entire darian camp?"

"Yes."

"Wait, wait, wait. That's suicide, Raven," Armia replied. "Calm down."

Raven continued packing, her movements precise and economical. She hadn't exactly been trained for solo extraction missions but, oh well. What better time to figure that out than now?

She was halfway through checking her weapons when Captain Fenris ducked into the tent.

"Stand down, Nightsong."

Raven finally paused, looking up at the captain with empty eyes.

"I'm going after her."

"No, you're not." Fenris's voice was steel. "You'll run into a hundred darian warriors between here and their main camp. Warriors who've been training since before you even knew what a sword was. How exactly do you plan to handle that?"

"I won't be seen."

"You will. And you'll die." Fenris crouched down, meeting Raven's gaze. "And then who rescues Blackflame? Huh?"

Raven's fingers tightened around the dagger she was holding. For a moment, she considered simply ignoring the order.

But logic prevailed. The captain was right.

"What do you suggest?" she asked, her voice emotionless.

"We plan. We gather intelligence. We strike when we have the advantage, not in blind panic."

Raven nodded once and set the dagger down.

"How long?"

"Two days, at least."

Isabella looked ready to explode.

"Two days? They could do anything to her in two days!"

"They won't kill her," Fenris said with certainty. "If they wanted her dead, they wouldn't have taken her alive."

Armia put a hand on Isabella's shoulder.

"I'm sorry to say it, but I think the captain's right. We need a real plan."

Raven said nothing more. She simply resumed her preparations, but at a slower pace. Two days. She could wait two days.

But not a minute longer.

---

{Melisa}

Melisa squinted as she was led from her tent into the harsh daylight. Her hands were still bound, but now in front of her instead of to the posts. Six darian guards surrounded her, all massive and heavily armed.

[Overkill much? It's just little old me.]

They'd brought her boots back at least, though her wand was still missing. They marched her through what appeared to be a large camp – much larger than she'd expected. Hundreds of tents spread across a valley, with darians everywhere she looked.

And nim. More nim than she'd ever seen outside of Syux. They worked around the camp – cooking, cleaning, carrying. Some wore collars. Others didn't. A few even walked freely, hanging off the arms of darian warriors.

[So this is what Kaleth meant. Sex slaves.]

The thought made her stomach turn. But she noticed something odd – not all the nim looked miserable. Some even appeared content, laughing and chatting with the darians around them.

[Stockholm syndrome? Or something else?]

They approached a large open-air pavilion at the center of the camp. Carved wooden posts supported a canopy of animal hides and woven fabrics. Beneath it sat seven darians on ornate chairs – three women, four men, all older than Kaleth, with elaborate braids and tattoos marking their skin.

The Council.

Each Council member had at least one nim beside them – beautiful nim men and women wearing fine silks that left little to the imagination. They draped themselves over their darian masters, feeding them fruit or massaging their shoulders.

One of the Council women had a nim male in her lap, his head resting contentedly against her chest while she stroked his hair like a pet.

[What the actual fuck am I looking at?]

The guards forced Melisa to her knees before the Council. Kaleth stood to one side, and Sirah to the other. Both watched her with interest.

"This is the nim mage?" asked one of the male Council members, his voice deep and gravelly.

"Yes, Elder Drath," Kaleth confirmed. "The one who killed five of our warriors."

Murmurs spread through the gathered crowd. Melisa kept her face neutral, but her mind was racing, analyzing the scene for any chance of escape. The bindings on her wrists were tight, but if she could just get close enough to one of the Council members...

"She doesn't look like much," commented a female Elder, her nim concubine giggling at the remark.

"Appearances deceive, Elder Lishara," Sirah said. "I witnessed her magic myself. It's... impressive."

"What should we do with her?" asked another Elder.

Before Kaleth could answer, a darian warrior pushed through the crowd. He was younger than the others, with a fresh scar across his face.

"Give her to me!" he demanded. "She killed my blood-brother!"

The Council looked to Kaleth, who frowned.

"Tarak, this is not the place—"

"I demand blood-right!" Tarak shouted. "By the old laws!"

Without warning, he lunged at Melisa, a curved dagger in his hand.

[Oh fuck.]

She moved purely off instinct. As Tarak charged, she rolled backward, bringing her bound hands up. She couldn't form proper spellsigns, but she sure as shit had to try.

"Glacies, fractum, liberare!"

Ice crystallized around her bindings, making them brittle. One sharp twist of her wrists and they shattered. Completely free now, she immediately drew a proper spellsign in the air.

"Glacies, murus, protegere!"

A wall of ice erupted from the ground, separating her from Tarak. The darian slammed into it, momentarily stunned.

The Council members were on their feet now, the nim concubines scattering. Guards moved in from all sides, weapons drawn.

Melisa prepared another spell, ready to fight her way out if necessary.

"ENOUGH!"

Sirah's voice cut through the chaos. She walked calmly through the guards, blue eyes fixed on Melisa.

"Stand down, Tarak," she ordered. "Your blood-right is denied."

"You can't—"

"I can." Sirah's tone left no room for argument. "And I do."

She turned to the Council, a slow smile spreading across her face.

"Elders, I've seen what this nim can do. Her magic is unlike anything in Rhaya." She walked around Melisa, examining her like a prize horse. "I want her."

The Council members exchanged glances.

"As what?" Elder Drath asked. "Slave? Concubine?"

Sirah's smile widened.

"As mine. In all ways."

Melisa stared at her, heart pounding, one brow arched so high it almost hurt.

This...

This wasn't what she'd expected at all.