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Chosen by the Living Reaper: But I Was the Succubus He Couldn't Resist Novel Cover

Chosen by the Living Reaper: But I Was the Succubus He Couldn't Resist

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!"
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Chapter 4

Over the next week, I fully committed to my role as an unapologetic cling-on.

When Damian went to the study, I dragged over a little stool and sat by his feet, pretending to read.

When he went to eat, I sat right next to him and picked all the bell peppers he didn't like into my own plate.

When he took a walk in the garden, I followed behind him like a shadow, stepping right where his shadow fell.

Every day, Damian had something harsh to say—"Get lost," "Stay away from me," "Annoy me again and I'll throw you out."

But not once did he actually push me away.

The servants' looks toward me shifted too—from pity and disdain to something closer to disbelief… and maybe even a hint of respect.

That evening, Damian was heading to a business gala.

He didn't invite me outright, but he had a stylist deliver a row of haute couture gowns for me to choose from.

I picked a fiery red strapless gown.

In the mirror, the girl's skin was porcelain tender, the red dress blazing against it, her hair cascading like silk.

Features that had once seemed dull from long-term malnourishment were now, after a week of care, beginning to reveal striking beauty.

Even I was momentarily stunned by my own reflection.

Damian stood behind me, watching my reflection. His throat bobbed subtly, his gaze darkening.

The gala was alive with clinking glasses and elegantly dressed guests.

The moment Damian appeared, he became the center of attention.

When he walked in holding my hand, nearly every gaze in the room stuck to us.

Awe, jealousy, curiosity…

I could feel every bit of it.

"Mr. Blackwood, and this is…?" A man who had worked with Damian approached with a glass in hand, his gaze lingering on me inappropriately.

Damian pulled me closer against him, cutting off that lingering gaze.

"She's mine."

Two words. Simple. Absolute.

That was a public acknowledgment of who I was to him.

A warmth spread through me, and I tightened my hold on his arm.

From across the room, a venomous gaze shot toward me.

I looked up and met Natalie's face, twisted with jealousy.

She was there too, dressed in a pristine white gown, standing beside some rich heir she'd latched onto, looking soft and innocent.

But the hatred in her eyes looked like it could tear me apart.

I lifted my chin at her and gave a deliberately provoking smile.

Natalie's face drained of color as she clenched her fists.

After a while, Damian moved off to discuss business with a few influential figures.

I casually took a glass of champagne from a passing server and wandered around.

It didn't take long before something felt off.

A strange heat rose from within, growing stronger by the second, like countless ants gnawing through my body.

My temperature was spiking.

The succubus bloodline inside me felt like it had been triggered, surging wildly, almost beyond control.

I could even feel an itch spreading across my forehead—my horns were about to emerge.

My face turned ashen with fear—and then I saw Natalie's sinister smile not far away.

It was her!

She shot a look to the man beside her.

The man started walking toward me, reaching out to drag me away.

"Don't touch her!"

Damian had returned at some point, knocking the man to the ground with a single punch.

I clutched onto Damian's arm.

"Damian… I… I don't feel right…"

He caught me as I swayed, pressing a hand to my forehead—his expression darkening instantly.

Without another word, Damian scooped me up into his arms and strode toward the hotel rooms, ignoring the stunned looks around us.

My consciousness was already starting to blur.

All I knew was that I was held in a broad, warm embrace, his masculine essence filling my senses, grounding me.

So close, his presence felt like the most dangerous kind of trigger.

My body completely lost control.

Damian laid me on the soft bed. Seeing my flushed face and rapid breathing, he assumed I was seriously ill and turned to call for a doctor.

"Wait here. I'll get someone—"

Before he could finish, I grabbed his wrist.

With the last of my strength, I pulled him down toward me.

The world spun, and in the next moment, I had flipped over and pinned him onto the bed.

Our breaths tangled in the heated air.

Pinned beneath me, Damian froze, completely caught off guard.

"Vivian, get off me—now!"

He tried to push me away, but under the surge of my succubus bloodline, my strength was overwhelming.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and locked his shoulders in place.

"I'm burning… Damian… it hurts…"

My voice trembled, on the edge of tears. My mind was slipping, leaving only raw instinct behind.

I needed him.

Like a restless creature seeking comfort, I lowered my head, pressing clumsy, desperate kisses against his lips, tugging at his shirt.

"Vivian!"

Damian's voice turned rough, strained with restraint.

He caught my wandering hands, trying to ground me. "Snap out of it. You've been drugged!"

But I couldn't hear him anymore.

All I knew was that his warmth could soothe the fire inside me.

I looked up at him through tear-blurred eyes, my voice breaking. "Help me… please, Damian…"

In Damian's eyes, the girl's gaze was glazed with an unnatural flush, her eyes shimmering with tears—like a lost fawn on the verge of being abandoned.

Fragile… and dangerously alluring.

Damian's breath hitched, his gaze darkening.

In the end, reason gave way, retreating under the overwhelming tide of desire.

He flipped us over, pinning me beneath him, reclaiming control. His voice dropped low and rough beside my ear.

"You brought this on yourself."

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