ManyWriters

Jack, my boyfriend, is a high-level lust incubus allergic to ordinary people. Only his childhood sweetheart can satisfy him.
To prove his love for me, he is passionately entwined with his childhood sweetheart each time, yet calls out my name.
One day, I accidentally opened an encrypted file he had named "Eternal Love."
But what I saw was a wedding video from seven years ago, featuring him and his little childhood sweetheart.
In disbelief, I tried to drown my sorrows in alcohol, only to be slipped the most potent aphrodisiac.
As my body burned with unbearable heat, I overheard Jack and his friends laughing without restraint.
"Emily's easier to fool than a dog."
"If I can make her stay chaste for me for eight years, I can make her keep an empty bed for life."
Everyone jeered at me for being an old maid.
But some were confused.
"Bro, if you don't love Emily, why not just break up with her?"
Jack tilted his head to deeply kiss his childhood sweetheart, his gaze cold and sharp."If it weren't for her back then, Cynthia's brother would never have died. I want to punish her for Cynthia's sake for the rest of her life."
Years of affection were just his meticulously planned revenge.
My heart was shattered, and I left for three years.
Three years later, I encountered Jack again.
His body was emaciated, his eyes dim, looking as if he'd been starving for a long time. He grabbed my neck, about to kiss me.
"Emily, I'll never do anything to make you unhappy again. Can we continue our relationship?"
His eyes were full of me.
But I glanced at the little girl beside me and smiled, saying, "Jack, I've been married for a while now."

His Incubus Hunger, My Heartbreak

Jack’s brief encounter with me was merely a coincidence, a stroke of luck.


Today's little incident, I didn't take to heart.


Alexander, however, was furious. He stayed with me at the hospital for a week, only allowing me to be discharged after confirming the wound wouldn't leave a scar.


On the day of my discharge, Alexander followed behind me, carrying bags of all sizes.


I walked ahead, opening the front door with a beaming smile, and caught the golden-haired angel who leaped into my arms.


Sophia is two years old this year. Her eyes and brows are identical to mine, while her fair skin resembles Alexander's more.


Anyone can tell at a glance that she's our daughter.


I dote on her endlessly, and Alexander treasures her beyond measure.


Finally home, I played with Sophia in the garden. Suddenly, a crazed head popped out from the shrubbery outside the garden.


"Emily! Because of you, my child is dead."


Chapter 13