Incubus Living In A World Of Superpower Users-Chapter 129: A Candle Lit Walkway??

The mansion looked calm. A few lights were on, but not many. The sky above had already started to turn dark.

Evelyn got out first. She grabbed her bag and gave him a nod. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem," Ethan said.

"See you tomorrow," she added.

"Yeah."

Everly stepped out next. She stretched her arms and let out a small yawn.

"Don’t be late tomorrow," she said. "We’re getting food first thing."

Ethan smiled. "Got it."

The twins walked toward the front door, talking quietly. They didn’t look back, just waved once before going inside.

Ethan sat there for a few seconds longer.

Then he turned the car around and headed home.

The drive home was smooth. Quiet.

The streets were mostly empty now, lit by soft yellow lights that passed over the car in slow pulses. No rush. No traffic. Just the faint hum of the engine and the occasional whisper of wind brushing the sides of the vehicle.

His mind drifted.

Back to the simulation.

Back to the twins.

Back to the strange shift in atmosphere once they’d finished.

He didn’t know what to make of it all yet—but that was for later.

Right now, he just wanted to breathe.

By the time he reached Nocturne Mansion, the sky had deepened into a rich midnight blue. Stars had begun to peek through, scattered between drifting clouds.

He pulled in through the front gate. The system recognized his ID instantly with a soft chime, and the tall iron gates slid open without delay.

Ethan parked and stepped out.

The cool night air wrapped around him like a blanket. Still. Crisp. Just enough chill to wake his skin.

But as he stepped inside the mansion—

He paused.

It was quiet.

Not the usual soft sounds of music playing from somewhere, or faint footsteps down a hallway.

This was different.

No sound. No light from the ceiling fixtures. Just the shadows of the entryway and the faintest scent of something warm. Faintly floral. Maybe sandalwood.

He stood still.

Then, without warning, a flicker of orange lit up on the ground near his feet.

A candle.

Then another.

And another.

One by one, they began to light up along the marble floor, forming a slow, winding path. The flames were low but steady, casting long shadows against the walls and ceiling.

Ethan blinked.

He didn’t move at first.

Just watched.

It wasn’t threatening.

It wasn’t random.

It was... deliberate.

Like someone had planned this.

Set it up with care.

A message.

An invitation.

He took a step forward.

Then another.

The candles flared ever so slightly as he passed, not in alarm—but like they acknowledged him.

The hallway felt longer than usual. Or maybe it just felt slower, as if time had decided to stretch things out on purpose.

He followed the trail.

Turned left, toward the residential wing.

More candles. Neatly placed. Not messy. Each one exactly a foot or so apart.

The warm glow spread up the walls, making the place feel less like a mansion and more like a dream.

He passed the study.

Passed the sitting room.

Then turned again—toward his bedroom.

The door was slightly open.

And from inside, the same orange glow spilled out in a gentle line, brushing across the floor like a soft veil.

He stopped just before the door.

His pulse had picked up, but not because of nerves.

Just anticipation.

He gently pushed the door open.

And froze.

Inside, bathed in soft candlelight, were Lilith and Seraphina.

Both were sitting on the edge of his bed.

Both were looking at him.

And both were dressed in almost nothing.

They wore thin, one-piece bikinis—cut so close to the edge of decency that they looked like something made for private temptation, not public wear.

The fabric hugged their bodies like it had been painted on, soft and clingy, with just enough coverage to keep it technically modest. But only barely.

Every inch of their skin shimmered under the candlelight—smooth, soft, glowing in a way that didn’t feel entirely natural. Like the light itself was drawn to them.

Lilith sat with one leg crossed over the other, her tall, hourglass frame perfectly posed without effort.

Her long silver hair tumbled down her back and over one shoulder, catching the warm light in strands of glowing white.

The bikini she wore was a silky, almost sheer fabric that clung tightly to her G-cup chest, pushing her cleavage high and full.

Each soft curve of her breasts moved gently with every breath she took, the thin strap resting snugly over her collarbone.

The cut of her swimsuit dipped low, exposing the soft line of her waist, and curved around her wide hips in a way that left the lower part of her backside barely covered.

Her legs—long, smooth, and pale—looked impossibly graceful even while still. She didn’t try to pose or show off. She didn’t need to.

She was built like temptation in motion.

Seraphina, on the other hand, sat forward slightly, her elbows resting lightly on her thighs as she watched him with calm, golden eyes.

Her body was just as dangerous, but in a different way—refined, sharper, like a blade hidden in silk.

Her E-cup chest was held firm beneath the high-cut suit, the tight fabric pressing in just enough to lift and frame the soft shape of her breasts.

Her bikini had small gold accents on the sides, drawing the eye to the curve of her hips and the smooth dip of her waist.

Her ass was full, round, and firm—perfectly shaped beneath the snug lower half of the suit that barely managed to cover it.

When she shifted slightly, the soft bounce of her curves made the candlelight flicker against her skin in slow waves.

Her long black hair flowed down her back like a smooth river of silk, not a strand out of place.

She didn’t smile, not fully, but the corner of her mouth lifted, just enough to show that she knew exactly what effect she was having on him.

Neither of them said a word.