Back at the inn, the soft rustling of cloth and a faint sigh stirred the quiet room.
Moonlight filtered through the open window, casting pale lines across the wooden floor.
Nolan blinked groggily, half-asleep, and saw a shadow over him.
Lirazel.
She was sleeping above him, adjusting her gloves as she held tightly at his little brother, who had somehow clambered onto Nolan's mattress during the night.
The succubus girl shifted in his sleep, muttering nonsense, then curled into a tighter ball under the blanket.
Nolan's eyes narrowed slightly in confusion looking at her above her chest, though relief followed almost instantly.
Lirazel still had her clothes on.
Good.
He didn't need to lose ten years of his life because the succubus decided to get creative in the middle of the night.
Nolan assumed from the memory that she—a succubus -- had the power to drain vitality through skin contact, particularly from men, especially if they were vulnerable or, worse, asleep.
