“Do you know what other Infernals call Incubi?” He said finally, tone impossibly deep. Ivy shook her head. “Mindless leeches.” She went utterly still, waiting for him to continue. “They think we’re slaves to our base natures. That we can’t control ourselves when it comes to the method we use to feed.” A muscle feathered in his jaw. “To them, we’re scum.” Ivy jolted. “You’re not though.” Something unreadable flitted across his stare, and the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “I’m glad you don’t see us that way.” “It’s not about how I see you,” she said. “It’s about how you are. And you’re
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