CHAPTER 94: DAUGHTER OF PRIDE

Chapter 94 – Daughter of Pride

Lux smirked slowly, his gaze shifting toward the voice before it even finished its sentence.

"I also didn’t expect the daughter of the Pride Lord to come all the way here just to critique my caffeine habits..." He tilted his head. "Sira."

There was no portal. No flash.

Just a quiet crack, like a fracture in space opening with a gentle yawn. A rift bloomed in the far corner of the café—dark, slow-spinning, like the folds of shadow themselves had grown bored and decided to part.

From it, stepped Sira.

The rift vanished behind her without a sound.

And now she was here.

A stunning figure cloaked in midnight silk that shimmered like oil and starlight. Her long obsidian hair swept over one shoulder, framing a face sculpted for worship and war in equal measure. Red eyes, long lashes, high cheekbones, and lips that always looked moments away from saying something dangerous.

She didn’t walk. She glided—heels silent, steps smooth, like gravity moved out of her way on principle. The kind of presence that made rooms realign themselves around her.

Lux had met her hundreds of times before.

Meetings. War negotiations. Trade agreements. And sometimes... lunch.

Lobbying lunches.

Though if someone watched them for too long, they’d think more than politics was being negotiated.

Sira stopped directly in front of him, hands relaxed at her sides, smirk already in place.

The café was still frozen around them. Waitstaff locked mid-pour. Lina the barista, blinking at a receipt. A latte stuck in a suspended swirl like it had been frozen in divine Photoshop.

Lux sighed softly. "What brought you here, Sira?"

Instead of answering, she held out one perfectly manicured hand. "Where’s my greeting?"

He huffed internally. ’Of course.’

The daughter of Pride.

Like her father, she had a thing for ceremony, for image. For getting exactly what she wanted, exactly how she wanted it, just because the idea of compromise made her physically itch.

He stood.

Took her hand gently, bowed his head slightly, and kissed the back of her fingers—cool, smooth, faintly scented with something decadent and infernal.

The traditional greeting.

Business mode. Lobbying diplomacy. Safe territory.

She looked very pleased with herself.

"Nice~" she purred.

Lux sat back down, expression unreadable.

Sira took the seat across from him, legs crossing with practiced elegance, silk flowing around her like water that obeyed only her.

"You still haven’t answered me," Lux said, reaching again for his coffee. It was still warm.

"I just wanted to see you~" she replied sweetly. "Am I wrong for that?"

"Depends," he said, sipping. "You usually only see people when you’re about to eat them metaphorically. Or politically."

She giggled, leaning in slightly. "Oh, Lux. You know me too well."

"I try."

"You’ve been quiet lately," Sira continued, her nails tapping the table in soft little rhythms. "Rumors said you vanished into the mortal realm. I didn’t believe it at first. But here you are... sipping espresso and playing human. How adorable."

"I needed a break."

"You, breaks? Please." She narrowed her eyes slightly. "You were born for boardrooms and financial halls threats."

"Funny. I was told I needed therapy."

"Maybe they’re right," she mused, then added, "Though I find your insanity charming."

Lux chuckled under his breath, low and dry. "Thank you," he said, tipping his coffee in mock salute. "But I’d prefer to keep myself sane. Just for variety."

Sira smiled wider, like he’d just complimented her perfume. "Why? Madness suits you."

"It doesn’t match my new shoes."

That earned a giggle from her. She leaned back into her chair, lounging like a queen on a throne made of café ambiance and frozen time. "So serious now, Lux. You weren’t like this when we last saw each other in the Ember Court."

Lux raised an eyebrow. "That meeting involved three warlords, a cursed blood pact, and a poisoned soufflé."

She pointed a perfectly lacquered nail at him. "Still. You smiled more."

"Because the soufflé hit the guy I hated most."

"That was a good moment," she said, eyes sparkling. "You really know how to spike a dessert."

"I did it with love."

She sighed wistfully. "See? That’s the Lux I missed."

He swirled his coffee cup once, then met her gaze again—cool and level now. "So? What’s the real reason you’re here?"

Sira tilted her head, and this time her smile sharpened. "I’m bored."

Lux raised an eyebrow. "You crossed the realms and froze time in a coffee shop because you’re bored?"

She leaned forward, chin on her palm. "You were the most interesting creature I knew. And then you disappeared. You didn’t even say goodbye."

"Didn’t realize I was under contract."

She pouted dramatically. "You could’ve sent a letter. A whisper. A kiss."

Lux’s eyes narrowed slightly. "You’re dancing."

"I always dance."

He set his cup down again. "So what do you want, Sira?"

"I told you," she said, smiling brighter now. "I want to play."

The word dropped like velvet on iron.

Lux’s body went still for half a breath.

Because that word—from her—was loaded.

Play could mean banter. Teasing. Flirtation.

But it could also mean... a trial. A test. A puzzle soaked in madness. A seduction that ended in metaphysical collapse. Torture so intricate and beautiful it made ancient warlords cry into their blood-slicked armor.

He’d seen it.

He’d watched her "play" before.

And the laughter didn’t always come from her.

"I need details," he said carefully. "What kind of play?"

Sira’s smile didn’t fade. If anything, it deepened. She sat back, swirled a finger in the air, and conjured a slow ripple of golden infernal flame that shaped into dice.

They hovered between them. Glowing. Dangerous.

"Something light," she said coyly. "A game. With a prize."

"What kind of prize?"

"Depends if you win."

"And if I lose?"

Her eyes gleamed. "Same prize. Different flavor."

He stared at the dice. Then at her.

Figures.

Even his System was throwing its hands up.

Lux exhaled slowly. "You know, this whole seductive chaos thing? You really commit."

"I’m a Pride demon," she said simply. "We don’t do things halfway."

He leaned back again, dragging a hand through his hair, gaze sharp. "And I’m on vacation."

"Exactly why I thought you’d be free."