B2. Chapter 20: The Problem with Inherited Power Is You Never Asked for It
"Tell me something you've never told anyone," Emily said, her fingers tracing absent patterns on the back of Mo's hand.
They'd been talking for hours—or maybe minutes; time moved differently in these lush chambers reserved for the most dignified guests with their impossible windows showing multiple realities at once. Mo had started on the opposite end of the couch, maintaining that careful distance they'd perfected over three weeks. Now she was tucked against Emily's side, their legs tangled, the space between them measured in heartbeats rather than centimeters.
"I sometimes miss being nobody," Mo admitted. "Just another human-presenting person who happened to have demon blood. Before the inheritance, before Julian, before…" She gestured vaguely at the air where Emily's System notifications kept trying to manifest. "All of this."
Emily's hand stilled. "Do you regret it?"
"Which part? The part where I accidentally helped reshape reality, or the part where I'm apparently teaching a newborn interdimensional magical system about labor rights through my romantic choices?"
"The part where you met me," Emily said quietly.
Mo shifted to look at her properly. Emily's hair was mussed from the couch cushions, her scholarly attitude completely abandoned. She looked young and uncertain and absolutely beautiful.
"Never," Mo said. "You're the only thing that makes sense anymore. Which probably says something terrible about my judgment, considering you threw yourself into interdimensional politics after knowing me for approximately five minutes."
"Five minutes in which you saved Bath from magical collapse," Emily pointed out. "Very impressive minutes."
"I was terrified the entire time."
"I know." Emily's thumb resumed its gentle path across Mo's knuckles. "That's kind of a pattern I see about you. Are are terrified by the events, but that doesn't stop you from doing the right thing. Terror and determination in equal measure. It was..." She paused, searching for words.
"Intoxicating," she finished her thought. Then immediately tensed, as if the word had escaped without permission. The golden glow in her eyes flickered and died as she suddenly became aware of how close they were—Mo practically in her lap, her own fingers tangled in Mo's hair like she belonged there.
"I mean…" Emily's composure reasserted itself like armor clicking into place. "From a research perspective. The magical signature patterns during crisis situations are... fascinating to observe."
Mo felt the shift immediately, the way Emily's body language changed from soft and open to carefully controlled. The hand in her hair stilled, then withdrew.
"Right," Mo said, trying not to let the disappointment show. "Research."
A flush crept up Emily's neck. "That came out wrong. I didn't mean…" She stopped, visibly struggling. "This is exactly why we needed those three weeks. I can't seem to maintain any professional boundaries around you, and that's... that's not fair to either of us."
The space between them, which had felt warm and safe moments ago, now felt like a chasm opening.
"I should probably go," Emily said eventually, though she made no move to leave. Her fingers had somehow found their way back into Mo's hair, betraying her words with their gentle touch.
"You should probably stay," Mo countered, tilting her head into the touch. "When's the next time we'll have privacy like this?"
"Mo..." Emily's voice carried warning and want in equal measure.
"Just to sleep," Mo clarified quickly, though her succubus powers stirred at the way Emily's breath hitched. "I just... I don't want to be alone tonight. Tomorrow I have to figure out how to win three more tasks without violence while everyone expects me to fail. Tonight I just want to be held by someone who sees me as more than a political symbol."
Emily's expression softened, her thumb brushing along Mo's jaw in a gesture that was meant to be comforting but sent heat through Mo's entire body. "Okay."
***
Getting ready for bed turned into an awkward dance of trying not to be awkward. Mo rummaged through the suite's wardrobe, pulling out sleep clothes while hyperaware of Emily moving around the room—the soft sound of her setting down her tablet, the way she stretched after sitting for so long, how the lamplight caught the gold that still flickered occasionally in her eyes.
"These should fit," Mo said, holding out a shirt and pajama bottoms. Their fingers brushed during the handoff, and this time neither of them pretended not to notice. Emily's fingers lingered against Mo's for just a second, and Mo's powers responded instantly—not the controlling influence she kept locked down, but a warm pulse that made Emily's eyes widen.
"Thanks," Emily said, her voice slightly rough. She disappeared into the bathroom to change.
Mo changed quickly, then sat on the edge of the massive bed, trying to calm her racing heart. Her succubus nature was practically singing at the prospect of sharing a bed with someone she was attracted to. The rose-gold energy built inside her like pressure in a bottle, wanting to spill out and fill the room with invitation, with promise, with the kind of desire that could make someone forget every reasonable objection they'd ever had.
The power was right there, so easy to reach for. She could feel how simple it would be—just let her influence unfurl like silk, wrap Emily in warmth and want until that distance between them became a forgotten concept. Her bloodline sang in her veins, whispering that this was her birthright, her nature, what she was meant to do. Why fight it? Why deny herself when Emily clearly wanted…
No.
Mo gripped the edge of the mattress hard enough to make her knuckles white, forcing the power back down. But it was like trying to hold back the tide with her bare hands. The energy searched for cracks in her control, finding them in every memory of Emily's touch, every moment of their carefully maintained distance.
The bathroom door opened.
The borrowed shirt was slightly too big on Emily, hanging off one shoulder and falling past her hips, while the pajama bottoms pooled at her ankles. The loose fabric couldn't hide her curves—the gentle slope of her exposed collarbone, the way the shirt draped across her chest, how the pajamas sat low enough on her hips to reveal a strip of skin. She looked soft and touchable and nothing like the polished researcher who'd been maintaining professional distance for weeks.
And Mo's control slipped.
Just for a second, maybe two, her power escaped. Magical warmth filled the air between them, carrying with it the weight of Mo's desire, her need, the desperate want to pull Emily close and never let go. It wasn't the full force of succubus influence, but it was enough.
Emily froze in the doorway, her eyes widening as the magical influence brushed against her consciousness. Mo saw the exact moment Emily recognized what was happening—the shift from soft curiosity to sharp awareness.
"Mo," Emily said, and her voice was husky, different.
Horror crashed through Mo like ice water. She yanked her power back so violently it felt like tearing part of herself away, wrapping her arms around her middle as if she could physically contain what she was.
"I'm sorry," Mo gasped, unable to meet Emily's eyes. "I didn't mean… I wasn't trying to…" Shame burned through her. "You were right. You should go. This was a mistake. I can't control it around you, and that's not… you don't deserve…"
"Stop." Emily crossed the room in three quick strides, kneeling in front of Mo. "Look at me."
Mo shook her head, keeping her eyes fixed on her clenched hands. "I almost…"
"But you didn't." Emily's hands covered Mo's, warm and steady. "You pulled back. You stopped."
"I shouldn't have let it slip at all."
"Mo, look at me. Please."
Reluctantly, Mo raised her eyes. Emily's expression held no fear, no disgust, just understanding and something that looked impossibly like affection.
"I could feel it," Emily said quietly. "Your power. Not controlling, just... present. Like standing in sunlight. And you know what I felt from it?"
Mo shook her head mutely.
"How much you're fighting against your own nature to keep me safe. That you are terrified of becoming what everyone expects a succubus to be. I now definitely know that you want me but refuse to take what hasn't been freely given." Emily's thumbs stroked across Mo's knuckles. "That's not loss of control, Mo. That's the very definition of control."
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"But what if…"
"Then we deal with it," Emily said simply. "Together. Like we've dealt with many other things in these past few weeks. Like we are going to deal with many more problems in the months and years to come. I'm not afraid of you, Mo. I'm afraid of you shutting me out because you think you're protecting me."
Mo's laugh came out shaky. "You should be afraid. Do you know what I could do? What my powers are designed for? You are just… a human…"
"Yes, I know," Emily said. "I went through your archives, remember? I know exactly what you're capable of. And I also know who you are. You're the person who ran away from unlimited power to brew coffee. Who turned a goblin revolution into a democracy instead of crushing them under your boot? You."
Emily shifted, sitting beside Mo on the bed, their hands still linked.
"Your powers are part of you," she continued. "I don't want you to hide them or be ashamed of them. I just want you to be you, all of you, with me."
Mo stared at their intertwined hands, processing Emily's words. The acceptance, the lack of fear—it was everything she hadn't dared hope for.
"I don't know if I can be all of me," Mo admitted. "I've spent so long compartmentalizing, keeping the succubus part locked away..."
"We'll figure it out," Emily said. "Together. But Mo..." She paused, glancing at the massive bed they were sitting on. "We should probably actually try to sleep. You have your classes tomorrow, and I have to return to my duties at Blackthorn Keep."
The shift from heavy emotional territory to practical considerations made Mo laugh. Shaky but genuine. "Right. Sleep. That's why we're here."
They looked at each other, then at the bed, then back at each other. The awareness of what they were about to do—share a bed, even innocently—suddenly filled the space between them.
"The bed's huge," Emily observed, but her eyes were on Mo, taking in the sleep shorts and tank top Mo had changed into. "We could probably fit five people without touching."
"Dragon-sized," Mo agreed, her voice coming out lower than intended. "Cordelia mentioned she naps here sometimes when she's avoiding her relatives."
They moved to the opposite sides of the bed like it was a battlefield rather than silk sheets and too many pillows.
"This is ridiculous," Mo said finally, pulling back the covers on her side. "We're adults. We can share a bed without it being... anything."
"Right. Of course. Just sleeping." Emily slipped under the covers on her side, but Mo caught the way her hands trembled slightly, the way her breathing wasn't quite steady.
They lay there in silence for a moment, the space between them humming with awareness. The suite's enchanted lights dimmed automatically, leaving them in soft darkness where every sound seemed amplified—their breathing, the shift of fabric, the rapid beat of Mo's heart that she was sure Emily could hear.
Then the bed shifted as Emily moved closer. Not touching, but near enough that Mo could feel her warmth radiating across the small distance, could catch her scent—coffee and vanilla and something uniquely Emily that made Mo's powers strain again against her control.
"Is this okay?" Emily asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Perfect," Mo breathed, then bit her lip at how wrecked she already sounded.
They lay facing each other in the darkness, close enough to feel each other's breath. Mo could make out Emily's features in the faint light from the windows—the curve of her lips, the way her eyes searched Mo's face.
"Your eyes are glowing," Emily said softly. "Just a little. Rose-gold around the edges."
"Sorry, I…"
"It's beautiful." Emily's hand found Mo's between them, fingers intertwining. "You're beautiful."
Mo's control slipped for just a second, her powers sending warmth through their joined hands that made Emily gasp softly. Not influence, not compulsion, just pure feeling: desire and affection and the desperate need to be closer.
"Mo," Emily whispered, and it sounded like a question.
"I won't," Mo said, understanding. "I won't use my powers on you. Not like that. Never like that."
"I know." Emily shifted closer, until their foreheads were almost touching. "I trust you. It's myself I don't trust right now."
They stayed like that, breathing the same air, hands clasped between them, bodies close but not quite touching. The tension was exquisite torture—every nerve ending aware of how easy it would be to close that final distance, how much they both wanted to.
Mo must have dozed, because she woke to find herself pressed against Emily's side, her face tucked into the curve of Emily's neck. The other woman's arm had wrapped around her shoulders, holding her close, and Mo could feel Emily's heartbeat against her cheek—steady but slightly quick.
The borrowed shirt had ridden up in sleep, and Mo's hand rested against the warm skin of Emily's waist. She could feel the soft rise and fall of Emily's breathing, the way their bodies had unconsciously molded together. Her leg had somehow ended up draped over Emily's, and she could feel the other woman's hand resting on her thigh, fingers spread possessively even in sleep.
She started to pull away, but Emily's sleepy "Stay" stopped her. The word came out rough with sleep and something else, and Emily's arm tightened around her.
"Please," Emily murmured, still half-asleep, her lips brushing against Mo's hair. "Feels nice. Feels right."
So Mo stayed, letting her fingers trail lightly along Emily's ribs, feeling the other woman shiver and pull her closer. The intimacy of it—being held, being wanted even half-conscious—made her chest ache with something between desire and tenderness.
Emily's breathing changed, and Mo knew she was waking up properly. For a moment, neither of them moved, both aware of how entwined they'd become in sleep.
"Hi," Emily whispered against Mo's hair.
"Hi," Mo whispered back, pressing slightly closer, feeling Emily's breath catch.
Emily's hand moved from Mo's thigh to her hip, fingers tracing the line where sleep shorts met skin. "We should probably..."
"Five more minutes," Mo said, surprising herself with the plea. "Before the world comes back. Just five more minutes of this."
Emily's answer was to shift and hold her tighter, to press a kiss to the top of her head that was so gentle Mo's powers flared without permission, filling the surrounding air with magical warmth that made them both gasp.
"Your control," Emily said, but she didn't sound worried. She sounded wondering.
"It's harder around you," Mo admitted against her neck. "My powers want... they recognize you. Want to touch you, know you, make you feel…" She cut herself off, embarrassed by the admission.
"Make me feel what?" Emily's voice was curious now, her sharp mind engaging even as her thumb traced circles on Mo's hip.
"Everything," Mo said simply. "All of it. How much I want you, how safe you make me feel, how terrifying this is because it matters so much."
Emily was quiet for a moment, then carefully, deliberately, she shifted to place her face closer to Mo's. Her eyes had that golden glow that meant her System abilities were active.
"I can see it," she said softly. "The connection between us. It's not just your powers or mine. It's something else, something the System recognizes but can't categorize. We're linked, Mo. Have been since that first day in Bath."
"Emily," Mo whispered, and she wasn't sure if it was a warning or a plea.
"I know," Emily said. "I know all the reasons we shouldn't. The age gap, the power dynamics, the fact that you're literally at the center of an interdimensional crisis. I know."
"But?"
"But I've spent three weeks cataloging all those reasons, and none of them change this." Emily's hand moved from Mo's hip to cup her jaw, thumb brushing across her cheekbone. "None of them change how I feel when I look at you."
Mo's control cracked. "Emily, if you keep saying things like that, I'm going to…"
"What?" Emily's voice dropped lower. "What are you going to do?"
For a heartbeat, they just stared at each other. Then Mo surged forward, capturing Emily's lips with her own.
The kiss was nothing like Mo had imagined during those long weeks of contrived distance. It was desperate and tender and slightly awkward because they were lying on their sides and neither wanted to move and risk breaking the spell. Emily made a soft sound against her mouth, and Mo's powers exploded outward in response, filling the room with rose-gold light.
Emily pulled back just enough to breathe. "Your powers…"
"I can't…" Mo gasped. "Around you, I can't…"
"Then don't," Emily said, and kissed her again.
This time there was nothing tentative about it. Emily's hand tangled in Mo's hair, pulling her closer, and Mo forgot about control entirely. Her powers sang through her veins, wrapping them both in warmth that had nothing to do with influence and everything to do with pure want. She could feel Emily's heartbeat against her chest, could taste coffee and determination on her lips.
Emily shifted, rolling onto her back and pulling Mo with her. Mo braced herself on her elbows, looking down at Emily's flushed face, her kiss-swollen lips, the way her chest rose and fell rapidly.
"We should stop," Mo said, even as she leaned down to press kisses along Emily's jaw.
"Absolutely," Emily agreed, tilting her head to give Mo better access. Her hands slipped under Mo's tank top, fingernails dragging lightly across her lower back in a way that made Mo's powers flare brighter.
"This is a terrible idea," Mo murmured against Emily's neck, feeling her pulse race under her lips.
"The worst," Emily agreed breathlessly, then gasped as Mo found a particularly sensitive spot. "Oh, do that again."
Mo did, and Emily's hands tightened on her waist, pulling her down until there was no space between them. The borrowed clothes were too much and not nearly enough barrier. Mo could feel every curve of Emily's body against hers, could feel the heat building between them.
"Mo," Emily breathed, and the way she said her name—like a prayer and a demand all at once—nearly shattered what was left of Mo's restraint.
She kissed Emily again, deeper this time, pouring everything she couldn't say into it. Three weeks of distance, more than twenty days of tension, the fear that tomorrow might take this away—all of it concentrated into the slide of lips and tongues and the little sounds Emily made that were driving her absolutely mad.
Emily's hands were everywhere—her hair, her shoulders, the small of her back—like she was trying to memorize the shape of her. Mo's powers responded to every touch, sending waves of pleasure that had Emily arching beneath her.
"I want…" Emily started.
"Yes," Mo said immediately. "Whatever you want, yes."
Emily laughed, breathless and a little wild. "You don't even know what I was going to say."
"Doesn't matter." Mo kissed her again. "The answer is yes."
A sharp knock at the door shattered the moment like cold water on flame.
They froze, Mo still braced above Emily, both of them breathing hard. The rose-gold light flickered and died.
Another knock, more insistent.
"I know you're both awake," Nyx's voice carried through the door, sounding far too amused. "I can feel the magical resonance from out here. Half the Academy probably can."
"What?" Mo called, not bothering to hide her irritation.
"Task results were just posted," Nyx's voice carried through the door. "Thought you'd want to know before something bad happens once again."