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Chosen by the Living Reaper: But I Was the Succubus He Couldn't Resist

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 552    |    Released on: 29/04/2026

ut of the Blackwood estate like garbage, Margaret's unw

f me, Damian mad

Group. I want a report showing their ca

re, complet

to the Blackwoods, but in Kingsford,

one call from Damian

doing th

urfaced, my heart started

reached out and grabbed t

-step, his bod

studying his profile. "Are you..

ket free, turning his head aw

rself. They just d

e went

t things, yet doin

this awkward... and s

impulse surg

rward and wrapped my arms tig

I really

t ever

centuries, Damian was both a walking

d I not

ctically

ed him, his entir

ides, like he had no ide

seemed to regain control, grabbing the

like that again and I'll

actically

y feet off the ground,

aught sight of his ears-flushed so r

embar

is brutality, was actually flustered by n

p but let out

tossed me onto the sofa and stormed into

ill, I couldn't fall asleep no mat

out was the way his

amiliar hunger bega

for a succubus, the only r

I still couldn't resist slipping

't dare entertain

leeping face, then quickly pressed a soft, fleetin

essence was enough to ca

arly saw his long lash

his eyes... and he d

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Chosen by the Living Reaper: But I Was the Succubus He Couldn't Resist
Chosen by the Living Reaper: But I Was the Succubus He Couldn't Resist
“As a highborn succubus, I somehow managed to starve myself to death-thanks to my obsessive cleanliness and ridiculously picky appetite. When I opened my eyes again, I had transmigrated into Vivian Hartwell-the long-lost "real" daughter with a tragically cursed fate. I had barely been taken back into the Hartwell family before they forced me to attend a so-called "death matchmaking" event in Kingsford-on behalf of Natalie Hartwell, the fake heiress-to meet Damian Blackwood, the infamous "living reaper." Rumor had it Damian was brutal and bloodthirsty-every woman who'd ever been involved with him either ended up dead or driven insane. At the event, over a hundred socialites were trembling on their knees, silently praying they wouldn't be the one chosen. Just as Damian let out a cold smirk and reached to pick his unlucky victim, I took a deep breath from the back of the crowd. The scent emanating from him was a rare, potent masculine essence-something encountered perhaps once in ten millennia. For a painfully picky succubus like me, this was nothing short of salvation. I kicked aside the girl blocking my way, my eyes practically glowing as I threw both hands up. "Pick me! Hurry, pick me!"”