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

"And what of her crimes?" Kaleth demanded. "The warriors she killed?"

Sirah waved her hand like she was shooing away a fly.

"They attacked her, she defended herself. As any warrior would." She moved closer to Melisa, eyes gleaming. "Besides, I'd rather have her skills serving us than wasted in punishment."

The Council whispered among themselves for a minute, probably deciding exactly how fucked Melisa was going to be. Finally, Elder Lishara spoke.

"Very well. The nim mage is given to Blood Sister Sirah, as requested. She will be responsible for the mage's conduct and actions."

Sirah's smile was the kind that made Melisa's stomach drop to her feet.

[Great. I've been 'given' to the hot redhead. Is that better or worse than execution? Fifty-fifty at this point.]

"Come, little mage," Sirah said, extending her hand. "We have much to discuss."

With guards still surrounding her and zero chance of escape, Melisa had no choice but to follow. But as Sirah led her away from the Council pavilion, one thing became crystal clear.

She might have avoided getting killed right now, but she'd just become the property of a darian warrior with god-knows-what plans for her.

And somehow, that felt even more dangerous than facing the entire Council.

---

Sirah led Melisa through the camp, her hand locked around Melisa's upper arm. Not hard enough to hurt, but definitely hard enough to say "try to run and I'll break your arm."

"You should consider yourself lucky," Sirah said as they walked. "Tarak would have gutted you slowly."

"Thanks. I feel so blessed," Melisa muttered.

The camp was fucking enormous, way bigger than Melisa had realized from her tent. Hundreds of darians moved around, carrying weapons, food, supplies. And everywhere, nim moved among them.

As they passed between two tents, Melisa saw a female darian warrior with a nim woman pinned against a wooden post. The warrior had her pants down, a thick cock buried inside the nim, who moaned and writhed like she was having the time of her life.

Neither seemed to give a shit who saw them.

[They just... do it right out in the open? Geez.]

Sirah caught her staring and smirked.

"Not used to public displays in Syux?"

"Not quite so... enthusiastic ones."

They turned down another path, and Melisa's jaw dropped. Two male darians faced each other in a small clearing, both bleeding from multiple wounds. A crowd had gathered, cheering them on like it was a sporting event.

Without warning, one lunged forward, his blade swinging in a vicious arc. The other tried to dodge but was too slow. The blade caught him in the neck, and his head fell from his shoulders with a sick thud.

The crowd went wild.

"What the fuck?" Melisa whispered.

"Blood dispute," Sirah explained like she was commenting on the weather. "They probably both wanted the same nim or something."

Melisa looked at her in horror.

"So one of them had to die?"

"They certainly felt that way," Sirah shrugged.

[Great. And she just claimed me. So if anyone else wants a piece, heads will roll. Literally.]

They kept walking, passing more scenes that belonged in a horror movie or a porn film, depending on which way Melisa turned her head. A darian woman sharpening a blade caked with dried blood. A nim man going down on two darian females at the same time.

Finally, they reached a large tent set apart from the others. Guards stood at attention outside, nodding respectfully to Sirah as she approached.

"Welcome to my home," Sirah said, pulling back the flap.

Inside was way nicer than Melisa expected. Thick furs covered the ground, and colorful fabrics hung from the ceiling. A large bed took up one corner, while weapons and trophies lined the walls. A fire pit in the center lit up the whole space.

"Sit," Sirah ordered, pointing to a pile of cushions.

Melisa sat, watching as Sirah moved around the tent, lighting more lamps. Without the guards surrounding them, maybe this was her chance...

[If I can catch her off guard, maybe I can—]

"Don't even think about it," Sirah said without turning around. "You won't make it three steps from this tent before my warriors catch you."

[Fuck. Is she reading my mind?]

"I'm reading your face, little mage. You wear your emotions on your sleeve. Not that I mind, I like that in my partners. Makes things less complicated."

Sirah finished with the lamps and turned to face Melisa. Her blue eyes squinted as she walked over, dropping onto the cushions beside her.

"Now," she said, her voice dropping lower, "let's discuss your new... position." She reached out, running a finger along Melisa's jawline. "You're quite beautiful, even for a nim."

Melisa didn't pull away, her brain racing. Maybe she could use this attraction to her advantage. If Sirah wanted her as a fuck toy, she could play along, gain her trust, then bolt when she got the chance.

[Use what you have, Melisa. Beggars can't be choosers.]

"What exactly does being 'yours' entail?" Melisa asked, deliberately softening her voice.

Sirah smiled, leaning closer.

"Smart girl. Already adapting." Her hand slid to Melisa's neck, then lower, barely touching her collarbone. "It entails whatever I want it to. And right now, I want—"

The tent flap suddenly flew open. A young darian warrior burst in, panting.

"Blood Sister! The scouts have returned. Humans approaching from the east!"

Sirah pulled back with a scowl.

"How many?"

"A small group. Twenty, maybe thirty."

"A search party," Sirah muttered. She stood, all traces of seduction gone in an instant. "Prepare the ambush units. No need to engage unless they get too close."

The warrior bowed and rushed out.

Melisa's heart jumped. A search party? Had Isabella, Armia, and Raven convinced Fenris to come after her already?

[Don't get your hopes up. It could be a regular patrol.]

Sirah grabbed a sword hanging on the wall. As she strapped it to her belt, she looked at Melisa with narrowed eyes.

"Your friends, I assume?"

"How should I know? I've been tied up in a tent."

"Don't play coy. It doesn't suit you." Sirah moved to a chest and pulled out another weapon. "Stay here. If you try to leave, my guards will stop you. If you try to use magic, they'll kill you."

She headed for the tent flap, then paused.

"When I return, we'll continue our... conversation."

The moment Sirah left, Melisa jumped to her feet. She needed to find a way out, a way to warn her friends if it was them.

[Think, Melisa! There has to be something...]

She scanned the tent for anything useful – a weapon, a tool, anything. Her eyes landed on a small wooden box near the bed. Moving quickly, she knelt beside it, lifting the lid.

Inside were various items – jewelry, small daggers, and what looked like letters written in a language she couldn't read. She grabbed one of the daggers, tucking it into her boot.

The tent flap rustled. Melisa spun around, expecting a guard, but it was Sirah, back already.

"Forgot something," the darian said, eyeing Melisa suspiciously.

Melisa stepped away from the box, trying to look innocent.

"That was quick."

"Meh. The humans are still a ways off." Sirah moved closer, backing Melisa against the center pole of the tent. "Time enough for this."

In one fluid motion, Sirah stripped off her leather vest, revealing a muscled torso covered in intricate tattoos. Then, without ceremony, she unfastened her pants and pushed them down.

Melisa's eyes widened.

[Holy FUCK.]

Between Sirah's legs hung the biggest cock Melisa had ever seen – thick, long, and already half-hard. It was decorated with rings of metal and tattoos that matched those on her body.

"Surprised?" Sirah grinned, noticing Melisa's expression. "Darian females are... different from what you might be used to."

Melisa swallowed hard, her mind racing. This changed things. Changed her plans. Changed everything.

"Now," Sirah said, stepping closer, her massive cock swinging heavily between her legs. "Let's see what else your mouth is good for."