All Chapters of Whispers Of My Incubus Guardian: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Luxiana SommerisThe first thing I felt was the cool caress of air against my skin, followed by the soft, familiar texture of sheets beneath my fingertips. My head was heavy, my limbs sluggish, as though I had been pulled from the depths of an ocean, weighed down by something unseen. My breath came slow, shallow, as the remnants of a dream clung to me like mist, refusing to let go.I forced my eyes open, my vision hazy before the world sharpened into focus. The dim glow of my bedside lamp bathed the room in warm light. My room. The waking world. I was back.For a fleeting moment, dread settled in my chest like a stone. Had I failed? Had I woken up alone, everything I had fought for slipping through my fingers like sand? My pulse pounded in my ears, an unbearable silence stretching between the seconds. But then, I heard breathing.Deep, steady, but it was not mine. My body went rigid. I turned my head, my heartbeat slamming against my ribs.And there he was. Damien lay beside me, his

Luxiana Sommeris“So, this is where you work?” Damien mused as we came to a stop outside the city library. His stormy blue eyes scanned the grand structure before us, his lips curving into an intrigued smile. “It’s huge.”I followed his gaze, taking in the towering stone building I had come to know so well. The carved pillars, the intricate arched windows, and the massive double doors leading inside stood proudly, a testament to the history within. The early morning light bathed the library in a golden hue, and a soft breeze rustled the trees lining the sidewalk, carrying the faint scent of old books and fresh ink.“Yeah, this is the city library,” I said, my voice laced with fondness. “We have one of the largest collections in the country—almost every book you could imagine.” I inhaled deeply, already able to picture the familiar rows of bookshelves, the worn wooden tables, and the quiet rustle of pages turning.Damien tilted his head slightly, amused. “You really love this place.”

Luxiana SommerisThe moment we reached a safe place—a dimly lit café in a quiet alleyway—I finally let out the breath I had been holding. My heart still pounded in my chest, the encounter replaying in my mind like a feverish dream. I placed a cold bottle of water in front of Damien, watching as his hands trembled slightly when he reached for it. “So that was a grim reaper?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. For a grim reaper, he looks painfully normal.Damien ran a hand through his dark, tousled hair, frantically massaging his scalp as if trying to rub away the tension building inside him. His jaw was set tight, and a crease had formed between his brows, making him look more troubled than I had ever seen him before.“Yes,” he exhaled, gripping the bottle but making no move to drink from it. “As I told you, there are risks in bringing me here.”The weight of his words pressed against my chest, but before I could speak, he continued. “We can’t bring death into the waking worl

Luxiana SommerisThe soft crunch of gravel beneath our shoes was the only sound accompanying us as we strolled back home, ice cream cones in hand. The air was warm, carrying the faint scent of rain from earlier in the afternoon, and I found myself humming a lighthearted tune, trying to shake off the remnants of our earlier conversation. The sweetness of the vanilla on my tongue was comforting, melting slowly as I licked at it absentmindedly. Damien walked beside me, quiet but present, the way he always was when he sensed I needed space to think.Just as I turned the corner leading to my house, I caught sight of someone sitting on the porch. The dim glow of the streetlight above barely illuminated their figure, but the familiarity of it made me pause.“Someone’s there…” Damien murmured beside me, his voice low, cautious. I squinted, my steps slowing. My heart gave a small, surprised lurch when I recognized the person. “Anton?” My voice came out barely above a whisper. My grip on my

Luxiana SommerisI bit the inside of my cheeks, struggling to suppress the laughter still bubbling inside me. But even as we messed around, as the air between us filled with lighthearted banter and the familiar pull of unspoken words, a weight settled deep in my chest.I knew. We both knew.Our time here—this fleeting moment in the waking world—was slipping through our fingers like grains of sand. Reality was calling, tugging insistently at the edges of consciousness, and no matter how much we laughed or tried to fill the air with nonsense and playful bickering, the inevitable truth remained: I would wake up soon without him by my side.For now, though, I let myself forget. I let myself savor the warmth of his touch, the way his fingers lingered just a second too long, like he memorized the feel of my skin beneath his. I let myself get lost in the mischievous gleam in his eyes, in the sound of his voice when he said my name, in the way he acted as if we had all the time in the world