CHAPTER 294: INCUBUS PROBLEM

Chapter 294 – Incubus Problem

Lux watched her go, rubbing the back of his neck with a tired grin.

He lingered there for a moment, then sighed and rolled his shoulders. His body still carried the faint heaviness of last night, but a hot shower was enough to strip most of it away.

Steam curled around him, hissing down the tiled walls as he leaned under the spray, scrubbing away the weight of sex, feral heat, and numbers. By the time he stepped out, the mirror fogged, his skin carried the faint scent of expensive soap—cedarwood, smoke, and a trace of citrus.

His room was better now, too. Fresh chandeliers, polished floors, sheets replaced after they’d been ruined. Lux tugged open the wardrobe, hesitated at the usual suits and ties, then reached deeper. For once, he wanted casual. Black jeans. A fitted charcoal shirt. Leather jacket. He ran a hand through his damp hair, letting it dry messy instead of perfectly combed. His golden eyes flashed in the mirror, amused.

Casual CFO. Mortal disguise. Almost believable.

He picked up his phone, scrolled through, and typed out messages.

Lux: Dear friends,

This evening, I will be hosting a private housewarming gathering at my residence. Attendance will be intimate and by invitation only. Your presence would be appreciated.

Dress code: Casual.

Time: 8:00 PM.

He smirked, thumb hovering, then hit send. One by one the little check marks appeared.

He was about to shift his thoughts upward—Celestial realm, Aurealis, the damn bounty—when a soft knock came at the door. Lyra.

"Enter," Lux called, slipping his jacket on.

She glided in, bowing faintly. "Sir. I came to report about tonight’s preparations."

Lux arched a brow. "Already running inventory? Good."

Lyra’s gaze flicked toward him, calm but sharp. "We are lacking one thing. Some fancy glasses. Crystal. Not infernal. Using infernal glass might disrupt the wine’s flavor."

Lux frowned, tilting his head. "What? There’s no crystal here? Carson owned this mansion. He threw some parties. He had to have them."

"I searched, sir," Lyra replied evenly. "I found only one. Broken. Hidden in the shelves."

Lux stilled. His mind ticked instantly. Carson’s temper. Carson’s loss. Naomi’s ex. The kind of man who would shatter something fine just because it reminded him he didn’t own it anymore. Lux’s jaw clenched, then relaxed with a sigh.

"Yeah. Figures. He probably smashed the rest in a tantrum."

He pushed his hands into his jacket pockets, smirking faintly. "Fine. I’ll buy some. I need some air anyway. Anything else?"

Lyra inclined her head. "No, sir."

"Handle the rest with Lady Sira."

She bowed gracefully. "As you wish."

When the door closed, Lux exhaled. "Guess I will buy the glasses before going up."

He walked down the front steps, the air hitting him with a sharp mortal freshness. Pulling his helmet from the rack, he muttered to the system, "Location. Best place to buy crystal glasses. Non-infernal."

[Three matches found.]

[Nearest location: 3.2 km. Five stars. Luxury crystal shop. Distance: 10 minutes by motorcycle.]

[Other locations: 6.7 km, 4 stars. 9.1 km, boutique import store.]

Lux smirked. "Take the nearest one. Let’s make it quick."

His motorcycle sat waiting—mortal make, chrome polished, ordinary. He swung a leg over, pulled on his helmet, and let the engine growl to life.

The streets welcomed him with midday noise. Mortals bustling, cars honking, neon signs flashing in their usual dance. Lux tightened his grip on the handlebars, leaning into the traffic flow.

And yeah—Lux was being Lux.

Despite the jacket, despite the helmet, despite the mortal disguise—he couldn’t mask what he was. His pheromones bled out, subtle but potent, heightened after last night’s feral surge. The air around him shimmered faintly, invisible but undeniable.

He stopped at a red light.

A woman in a business suit two cars over rolled her window down, biting her lip as her gaze locked on him. Her pulse jumped in her throat.

Two teenage girls on the sidewalk whispered furiously, one covering her mouth, the other staring wide-eyed.

And the men? Oh, the men stared too. Jaw tight, eyes sharp, posture stiffening as if something in them screamed threat. Instinct. Predator recognized predator.

Lux sighed inside his helmet. ’So much for low profile.’ Oh yeah, lowkey was dead.

The light turned green, and he gunned the engine, weaving through traffic with casual precision. People turned to watch. Not the bike—him. Always him.

He smirked under the visor. ’Greed never hides. Even when it tries.’

By the time he rolled up to the crystal shop, a small luxury storefront tucked between fashion boutiques, he already knew eyes had followed him the whole way. He pulled off the helmet, shook out his hair, and the shop attendant at the door nearly dropped her clipboard.

Red eyes. Sharp smile. Casual clothes that did nothing to dull the aura rolling off him.

"Afternoon," Lux said smoothly, stepping inside.

The store smelled of polish, faint lavender, and the cold sharpness of cut glass. Rows of crystal glimmered under the lights, shelves lined with goblets, flutes, and decanters.

"Welcome, sir," the attendant stammered, bowing slightly. "How can I help you today?"

Lux scanned the shelves, his gaze predatory even here. "Crystal glasses. Finest you have. I’ll take a set."

"Of course, sir. We have several imported—"

"I’ll take them all," Lux cut in, smirking faintly. "Tonight’s going to be... exclusive."

The attendant flushed, scrambling to comply.

Lux leaned against the counter, watching her hurry. His phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen—Ely already replied.

Ely: I’ll come. Don’t worry, I’ll leave the paperwork behind. Maybe.

Lux chuckled. Mira’s message came next.

Mira: ...We’ll see.

Typical Mira. Pride wrapped in silk.

And then Fiera—

Fiera: I can’t come. I’ll send you someone better.

Lux frowned at his screen.

Wait. What?

She couldn’t come?

He squinted at the message again. Just... rejection?

And the kicker—

Someone better?

That sounded suspicious. No—correction—that sounded demonic-level fishy.

She was into him. Obviously. Painfully.

So why back out?

Busy? Maybe.

Playing a game? More likely.

His jaw flexed slightly as he slipped the phone back into his pocket.

As the store attendant packed the crystal glasses into sleek black boxes with velvet padding and careful fingers, Lux tilted his head—just enough to catch his own reflection in a mirrored display stand near the register.

Black shirt. Relaxed fit. Zipped half-way down his chest.

But the red eyes?

Yeah. Those didn’t hide. Not even behind mortal glamour.

They pulsed faintly in the reflection—like lava veins barely cooling.

And beyond that reflection... he caught the gazes.

From the staff.

From the guests.

From passersby at the entrance pretending to browse wine decanters.

Eyes that lingered a bit too long.

Whispers floating like perfume trails.

"He’s gorgeous—"

"Is he a model?"

"No way, look at his eyes."

"Maybe a foreigner?"

"Do models wear that cologne?"

"I think I just ovulated—"

"Shut up, Emily."

Lux let out a sigh, brushing his hand through his hair with a tired smirk.

Yeah. Even post-sex feral recovery mode. Even dressed like a mortal. Even in the middle of a crystal glass boutique.

He was still... him.

The Incubus problem no bath could fix.

He tapped the counter lightly, amused. "Low profile, my ass."

When he stepped out with the boxes, the street seemed to hum louder. Heads turned again. Men stiffened. Women flushed.

Lux straddled the bike, boxes secured in his dimensional storage, and muttered to himself, "Alright. Glasses done. Now... let’s see if Heaven feels like talking today."

The engine roared, and he pulled into the street, the air wrapping around him like temptation incarnate.