The Incubus System Chapter 1168. How The Hell Did I Get Here?

The Incubus System Chapter 1168. How The Hell Did I Get Here?

Tiffany’s PoV

Tiffany swallowed hard, throat dry. Her voice barely came out. “I don’t even know what this is…”

He smirked—lazily, confidently. “You will.”

And then he kissed her again.

Soft. Slow. But it didn’t feel gentle.

Not really.

It felt like a promise.

It felt like he was claiming her all over again, with just his mouth.

And when he finally pulled out, she whimpered—quiet but desperate—the loss of him leaving her aching, sore, and hollow. A fresh trail of warmth slid between her thighs. She didn’t have to look to know more blood had followed.

Her legs instinctively curled inward, her body trying to process what just happened.

She felt raw.

Sensitive.

Changed.

Ethan didn’t say anything else. He just pulled her in close again, her sweat-slicked body curling against his cooler skin. His arm wrapped around her like a brand. His breathing was steady.

He hadn’t lost control. Not even for a second.

But her?

She’d fallen apart.

And still, despite the guilt and the confusion and the voice in her head whispering he’s your stepbrother, despite everything…

She didn’t want to let go.

Because even if it was wrong…

Even if it went against everything she was taught…

Even if it blurred every line she swore she’d never cross…

Her heart had already decided.

It was him.

It was always going to be Ethan.

-----

Ethan’s PoV

‘Right… So I slept with both my sister and my stepsis…’

I stared up at the ceiling, my mind fogged in that strange quiet that comes after. The kind of stillness that doesn’t really settle, not in my head anyway. The room still smelled like sweat and sex, skin-warm and heavy, like the air itself had soaked in what just happened.

And right now? Tiffany was curled up against me, all soft limbs and bare skin, her breath warm on my shoulder. Her body was still twitching every now and then—small aftershocks. She looked wrecked. In the best way.

I didn’t want to wake her.

So instead, I stared into the air… and blinked.

[Congratulations, you just got a new partner!]

[Tiffany Duskblight]

[Love Meter: 6/10]

I blinked again. The system faded into the corner of my vision.

‘6/10?’

I raised an eyebrow at the number, even as my fingers unconsciously ran down Tiffany’s spine. She let out a soft sigh in her sleep, nuzzling in closer, her thigh sliding over mine like she was trying to keep me right where I was.

‘She really had a crush on me for that long, huh?’ I thought, mind flashing back to her awkward glances, her little jabs. All those little things that didn’t really click until now.

I let out a long breath and kept my eyes on the system window as it flickered gently. ‘Yeah… guess no wonder she accepted me for who I am—even after finding out I’m a literal demon lord—when she’s supposed to be a demon hunter.’

That should’ve been a deal breaker.

But it wasn’t.

Tiffany stirred slightly, mumbling in her sleep. My arm instinctively tightened around her, thumb brushing lightly over her side. Her skin was warm, soft, her heartbeat thumping steady against my chest.

I glanced back up at the ceiling.

‘Ethan, Ethan. A lot of people love you more than you thought.’

I didn’t mean it in a narcissistic way. It wasn’t pride talking. It was just… surprising. Every time.

Because the truth?

I never really saw myself as the kind of guy who gets loved.

I always thought I was just that background dude. The one surviving. The one trying to keep his head down. A guy with a dead dad, a messed-up family, and zero future. I wasn’t special. I wasn’t some hero in shining armor. I wasn’t even the main character. I was just… me.

And now here I was.

Demon Lord.

Partnered with girls I should’ve never had a chance with.

And they weren’t just attracted to the whole “dark power” thing—at least not all of them. Some of them… they went for me. Just me. Ethan. Not the power, not the horns, not the titles.

Which made it even weirder.

Because in my own head, I still saw that guy who had to scavenge leftovers after Dad died. Who fought just to keep the lights on. Who didn’t even know what he wanted to be, let alone what he was worth.

Guess I’ve been in survival mode for a long time.

I thought I’d grown past it. That the moment I turned into this horned, magic-wielding badass, I was supposed to leave that old mentality behind.

But maybe I didn’t.

Maybe it clung to me. Quiet. Heavy.

Even now, after all the things I’ve done, after commanding hellspawn and facing off against those demon lords who wanted to carve me apart—I still felt like that kid. The one with nothing.

Tiffany murmured again, and her hand slid over my stomach, fingers splayed, claiming me in her own sleepy way. I looked down at her.

She looked… peaceful.

No tension. No walls.

Just trust.

I swallowed hard, throat dry.

How the hell did I get here?

No, seriously.

I was lying in Tiffany’s bed. Naked. Her arm was still lazily draped over my chest, her hair a complete mess against my skin, strands sticking to the sheen of sweat that had dried on her like evidence of everything we did.

And me?

I wasn’t even sweating. Just a little warm. My body ran hotter than most humans now, part of the whole demon physiology package, I guess. But damn, she looked wrecked in the most satisfying way. Red cheeks. Bruised lips. That subtle, blissed-out daze in her half-lidded eyes.

A demon hunter and a demon lord. Together. In her apartment.

Yeah. Totally normal.

The blankets were tangled up around our legs, the room smelled like sex and lavender-scented body wash, and the only light came from the soft blue glow of the system UI still hovering faintly in the top right of my vision like an unread notification from the universe.

Everything was quiet.

Perfect, even.

Until—

-RIIIIIIING!!