Became a Demon with Pregnancy System-Chapter 152: The last round
This new expansion of his Cursed Demon domain clearly signaled the advancement of his natal demon methods. The merging had broadened his curse synergy, making his Lone Star Wolf instincts more formidable.
But the vision ended as quickly as it came. He returned to the present, where Hazel—her hair damp with sweat—cradled him.
Briefly, he thought about exploring the effect of "Dark Ripples," but another matter demanded his focus: Hazel Ross. She was trembling slightly, her body still unaccustomed to their intimate closeness.
Luke took a deep breath, stifling a grin. No time to examine new powers. Must attend to real life. He pressed a tender kiss to Hazel’s temple, provoking a soft sigh from her lips. They spent some long minutes holding each other, letting the day’s hush envelop them, hearts thrumming in a wordless conversation of warmth.
After a final wave of closeness, Hazel summoned a faint healing glow, the last bit of her spiritual stamina forming a healing sprite that eased her body’s fatigue.
Gently, she rose from the bed. Luke, lying beside her, watched curiously as she padded across the room, hair swaying around her cheeks.
She pressed her palms to the wall, then flipped herself upside down—executing a near-perfect handstand.
Luke propped himself on one elbow, astonished. "Hazel, what...are you doing?" he asked, a touch amused.
She flushed, voice hushed. "In some books, they mention that...standing like this, well...makes it easier to conceive." She let out a self-conscious laugh, continuing in a near-whisper, "I’m going to the Parthenon soon. We might not see each other for a while, so I’d like to try anything that could increase the chance."
Luke’s chest tightened. He recalled how earnest Hazel could be when she truly set her mind to something. The sight tugged at his heartstrings, evoking both tenderness and guilt.
He knew that simply wanting a child wouldn’t guarantee immediate success, especially when both the "Lone Star Wolf" bloodline and "Parthenon Soul" lineage might complicate normal fertility odds.
Swallowing, he rose from the bed, crossing to where she balanced. He helped her down gently, placing his arms around her waist. "Hazel, we don’t need to rush," he said, stroking her rosy cheek. "I can always come to see you in the Parthenon. We’ll figure out the rest."
Hazel’s face softened. She leaned her head onto his shoulder. "But once I’m fully accepted, it might change me. I might not be...this me." Her voice quivered a little.
Luke peered into her lilac eyes. "You are my woman. Whatever shape you take, I’ll stand by your side. Nothing changes that." With an aching sincerity, he pressed his lips to her forehead, silent reassurance that he meant every word.
Hazel’s lips curved into a faint, relieved smile. She nestled into him for another minute before a shy laugh escaped. "Then... while we’re still like this, I want us to share everything."
Luke lifted her chin with a gentle hand, nodding firmly. "You can always rely on me."
Reassured, Hazel allowed Luke to scoop her up, carrying her back to the bed for one more tender bout of closeness. The bed squeaked under them as they reacquainted themselves with each other’s warmth.
Despite her healing sprite, Hazel’s stamina was soon drained, her body succumbing to heavy lethargy. By the time the hotel room’s clock approached early afternoon, they concluded with satisfied smiles.
Exhausted, Hazel clung to Luke’s arm. "I might have used too many healing spells," she joked. "But I feel content."
Luke chuckled softly. "Now let me get you back to the dorms to rest properly." He teased her gently about that handstand attempt, prompting a self-conscious giggle from Hazel.
Another telekinetic gate whisked them discreetly away, delivering Hazel to her campus dorm by midafternoon.
Luke parted ways with Hazel Ross, checking the time—already near 2:00 p.m. He inhaled deeply, recalling that Lenora Quinn had demanded to see him for afternoon tea at 3:00 p.m. He had just enough time to compose himself.
He made a swift dash across Arcadia’s bustling streets, showered quickly back at his apartment, and then hurried to the designated tea parlor.
Exactly at 3:00, Luke stepped into an airy café with soft piano music and a refined crowd. He spotted Lenora Quinn in a summery lilac cheongsam, perched at a corner table.
Her usual denim or official attire was replaced with a more classical style—delicate but with an unmistakable confidence. Seeing him, she waved him over.
"You’re on time," she remarked with the faintest smirk. "I like punctual men."
"Wouldn’t dream of being late for you, Sister Lenora," Luke replied, sliding into the seat opposite her. The faint aroma of freshly brewed tea filled the air, a pleasing respite from the day’s earlier intensity.
The two exchanged pleasantries, mostly about how the city was recovering from Mann’s sabotage and the plague fiasco, as well as how the fortress was praising the Totem Serpent as a savior.
Though he was physically tired, Luke managed to keep conversation lively, sipping tea and nibbling on a few pastries. All the while, he noticed Lenora’s unusual tension. She kept locking gazes with him, as if sizing up how to escalate the moment.
Finally, after a mild lull in their chat, Lenora drained her teacup and squared her shoulders. "Luke," she said in an even tone, "I’ll be frank: I asked you here not just to talk about city affairs. I...like you." A flush of color crossed her cold, sculpted cheeks. She coughed once, then pressed on. "I’m a straightforward person. If I see something I want, I go for it. Now, do you agree to be with me?"
Luke, half expecting a more roundabout approach, was momentarily stunned by her directness. He recalled her phone call, how she’d insisted on seeing him, and realized she was serious about forging a deeper bond.
After a pause, he gave a lopsided smile. "I...agree, yes. You’ve become special to me, too."
A flicker of relief—or was it triumph?—showed in her eyes. She inhaled, calming her nerves. "Then we can skip the small talk," she said, standing abruptly. She seized Luke’s arm, pulling him up. "Let’s continue elsewhere."
He blinked. "Wait, where are we going?"
