Chosen by the Living Reaper: But I Was the Succubus He Couldn't Resist
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As a highborn succubus, I somehow managed to starve myself to death-thanks to my obsessive cleanliness and ridiculously picky appetite.
When I opened my eyes again, I had transmigrated into Vivian Hartwell-the long-lost "real" daughter with a tragically cursed fate.
I had barely been taken back into the Hartwell family before they forced me to attend a so-called "death matchmaking" event in Kingsford-on behalf of Natalie Hartwell, the fake heiress-to meet Damian Blackwood, the infamous "living reaper."
Rumor had it Damian was brutal and bloodthirsty-every woman who'd ever been involved with him either ended up dead or driven insane.
At the event, over a hundred socialites were trembling on their knees, silently praying they wouldn't be the one chosen.
Just as Damian let out a cold smirk and reached to pick his unlucky victim, I took a deep breath from the back of the crowd.
The scent emanating from him was a rare, potent masculine essence-something encountered perhaps once in ten millennia.
For a painfully picky succubus like me, this was nothing short of salvation.
I kicked aside the girl blocking my way, my eyes practically glowing as I threw both hands up. "Pick me! Hurry, pick me!"
Chosen by the Living Reaper: But I Was the Succubus He Couldn't Resist Chapter 1
As a highborn succubus, I somehow managed to starve myself to death—thanks to my obsessive cleanliness and ridiculously picky appetite.
When I opened my eyes again, I had transmigrated into Vivian Hartwell—the long-lost "real" daughter with a tragically cursed fate.
I had barely been taken back into the Hartwell family before they forced me to attend a so-called "death matchmaking" event in Kingsford—on behalf of Natalie Hartwell, the fake heiress—to meet Damian Blackwood, the infamous "living reaper."
Rumor had it Damian was brutal and bloodthirsty—every woman who'd ever been involved with him either ended up dead or driven insane.
At the event, over a hundred socialites were trembling on their knees, silently praying they wouldn't be the one chosen.
Just as Damian let out a cold smirk and reached to pick his unlucky victim, I took a deep breath from the back of the crowd.
The scent emanating from him was a rare, potent masculine essence—something encountered perhaps once in ten millennia.
For a painfully picky succubus like me, this was nothing short of salvation.
I kicked aside the girl blocking my way, my eyes practically glowing as I threw both hands up. "Pick me! Hurry, pick me!"
......
The entire room fell into dead silence.
Over a hundred socialites scattered away from me like I was carrying the plague.
That left me standing alone under the spotlight—the only focal point in the entire room.
Damian's gaze darkened. The stick in his hand hovered midair as he stared at me like I was already dead.
He let out a cold scoff and casually tossed the stick aside.
"Her."
The moment he spoke, the entire hall filled with relieved breaths, like survivors escaping disaster.
In the corner, my parents, Richard and Margaret Hartwell, practically collapsed into their chairs, wiping cold sweat from their temples in sheer relief.
Meanwhile, I was so excited I nearly jumped on the spot.
God knew—Damian's rare, potent masculine essence was a gift from the heavens. My lifeline.
Two men in black stepped forward, grabbed me by both arms, and roughly shoved me into the backseat of a stretch Lincoln.
In the enclosed space, his overwhelming masculine essence wrapped tightly around me.
It had to be him.
After starving for what felt like centuries, I could finally feast.
A cold hand suddenly gripped my chin.
Damian leaned in, his striking face twisted with violence.
His gaze swept over my clearly too-small, worn-out dress, the disgust in his eyes completely unmasked.
"For money, you'd throw your life away?"
Whoever Damian chose would usually bring immense wealth and resources to their family.
That unspoken rule was the only reason elite families sent their daughters into this so-called death matchmaking.
I hissed from the pain, but instinct completely overrode it.
I stared at his lips, inches away, my throat tightening as the words slipped out without thinking.
"You smell amazing!"
The air froze.
Damian jerked his hand away like he'd been shocked.
The tips of his ears flushed red at a visible speed, the color spreading down his neck.
He ground out the words through clenched teeth.
"You shameless lunatic!"
The force sent my head slamming against the window, leaving me dazed.
The car sped all the way before finally stopping in front of a grand estate.
The servants were already lined up, waiting.
They looked at me with a mix of pity and contempt, like I was something that would soon be used up and discarded.
Late at night, guided by a succubus's keen sense for scent, I quietly made my way to Damian's bedroom door.
It wasn't locked.
Holding my breath, I slipped inside like a cat.
Moonlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, outlining the sleeping man on the bed with sharp clarity.
In sleep, his violent aura had faded, leaving only that irresistible masculine essence that made my mouth water.
It smelled too good…
All I needed… just one kiss. Just a little energy to survive.
I leaned down, inching closer to his face.
Just as my lips were about to touch his, his eyes snapped open without warning.
He grabbed my throat and slammed me hard onto the bed.
In the darkness, his eyes burned with terrifying killing intent.
"Trying to die?"
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Chosen by the Living Reaper: But I Was the Succubus He Couldn't Resist of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5
Chapter 6 Ch. 6
Chapter 7 Ch. 7
Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels
8.1
Evelyn's betrayal of her own sister ends up revealing a shocking truth.
Evelyn is pregnant with David's child-David, who is Steffy's husband, and Steffy is Evelyn's older sister. Confident that she will become the heir to the Willson family fortune, Evelyn secretly conducts a DNA test on Steffy and Hendri Willson.
But is the result of that DNA test truly valid? And what truth will ultimately come to light-one so shocking that it leaves everyone stunned?
9.7
Luna Elena Frost was never chosen, only assigned.
Bound to Alpha Alaric Ashbourne through a cold contractual marriage, she endures three years as a Luna in name only. He never comes home, never defends her, and never looks at her, while his heart belongs to another woman.
At his grandmother's funeral, Alaric publicly dissolves their marriage, humiliating Elena before the entire pack. In that moment, she finally understands the truth. She was never wanted.
But the Moon has not abandoned her.
A forgotten night resurfaces. Her long-silent wolf begins to awaken. And secrets buried within her bloodline start to surface, drawing danger from every direction.
Cast out by the pack that once used her, Elena must flee, survive, and uncover her true power.
Only then does the Alpha realize his mistake.
By the time he turns back in regret, the Luna he rejected may already be gone forever.
8.5
Everyone knew Caroline loved Jacob, the frail man in a wheelchair, even giving up her chance at marrying into wealth for him.
She devoted everything to his recovery, enduring hardship and humiliation to help him stand again.
When he finally recovered, they were praised as perfect together-until danger came.
Faced with saving her or her sister, Jacob chose the latter without hesitation. Only in her final moments did Caroline realize his heart was never hers.
Reborn, she made a different choice, choosing power over love.
When Jacob later begged, she looked down coldly. "I have no interest in men who can't stand on their own."
7.5
On the morning of our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, I found a cream-colored document tucked inside my husband's suit pocket.
It was a twenty-million-dollar asset transfer for his former receptionist, Carmen. But what made my blood run cold was the contingent beneficiary: Leo, my newborn son who the hospital claimed was kidnapped twenty-three years ago.
When I confronted Devonte, he didn't even try to explain. He handed me a fake Cartier watch, canceled all my credit cards, and publicly called me delusional.
The next day, he moved Carmen into our mansion and emptied all our joint accounts into offshore trusts.
"If you don't sign these papers and walk away, I will have you committed," he threatened, his mother nodding in agreement.
They had orchestrated the kidnapping of my baby, hiding him with the mistress while I spent half my life sedated and screaming in grief. Now, to keep his secret, Devonte was going to lock me in a psychiatric ward and bury me in debt.
I didn't understand how the man I loved could be such a monster. Why did he steal my child? What else was hidden in that confidential adoption file?
Pushed to the absolute brink, I refused to be his victim.
When his goons came to my temporary apartment to drag me away, I turned to the rugged union electrician who had just fixed my lights.
"If you need a husband to keep you out of a psych ward, I'll marry you," he said, offering himself as my legal shield.
I took his hand. It was time to tear my husband's perfect life apart.
8.3
Ayleen Ramirez sat in the sterile Hope Hill Fertility Clinic, her heart shattering as Dr. Finch delivered the crushing news: her third IVF cycle had failed.
Eavesdropping outside a supply closet, she overheard her husband Don on the phone, laughing cruelly. "She's a defective incubator," he sneered to his mistress Alessandra. "I never used my sperm—just cheap bank donation. No trailer trash carries a Bradley heir."
Betrayed, Ayleen confronted him, but her adoptive family ambushed her at home. Her parents and brother sided with Alessandra, now pregnant by Don, demanding Ayleen sign divorce papers to secure family investments. "You're an embarrassment," her mother snapped, threatening to cut her trust fund. Ayleen tossed back their heirloom necklace and walked out.
She stormed the Bradley mansion, slapped divorce papers on Don, packed her bags amid his aunt's insults, and fled into the night.
Drunk in a trendy bar, she stumbled into a powerful stranger—Burdette Guerrero—spilling whiskey on his crotch, then accidentally grabbed a napkin to his trousers. He shoved her away in rage.
Worse, she mistook his penthouse suite for her hotel room, bursting in on his shower, smashing a mirror in panic. He pinned her to the wall, snarling accusations.
How did this arrogant man know her name? Why demand she sign a mysterious contract at 9 a.m.? Devastated and clueless she's actually pregnant—with his stolen heir—Ayleen sobbed alone, the world crumbling.
The next morning, she straightened her spine in the Grand Guerrero lobby, ready to face him and demand answers—no matter the cost.
9.0
Adaline Poole thought she had escaped her family's toxic corporate grip by moving to London and adopting a stray cat named Monty.
But when she returns to her empty apartment, her father delivers a chilling ultimatum: he has kidnapped the cat and will euthanize it by morning unless she accepts an arranged marriage with Barron Cooke, a notoriously elusive billionaire.
Her entire family becomes complicit in her sale. Her mother demands she secure their elite status, and her brother secretly spies on her social media to feed Barron her every move. Horrified to discover Barron is a thirty-three-year-old "fossil" twelve years her senior, Adaline resorts to sabotage. She goes to a Soho club, takes a scandalous photo with a frat boy, and sends it to the old billionaire to disgust him into canceling their upcoming dinner.
But her rebellion backfires horribly when the frat boy spikes her drink with a powerful narcotic. As her body burns with a terrifying, feverish heat, she collapses in a dark corridor. Stripped of her phone and betrayed by her bloodline, she is left utterly defenseless as a predator approaches to drag her away.
Suddenly, the heavy fire door is kicked open by a towering, terrifyingly handsome stranger who effortlessly neutralizes her attacker.
"Please... help me," Adaline begs, deliriously throwing her burning body into his arms.
She has absolutely no idea that the handsome savior she is clinging to is Barron Cooke himself.
