Chapter 132 – Unholy
Lux stood in front of the full-length mirror.
And for once in his chaotic, coffee-fueled, supernatural disaster of a life.
He actually paused.
"…Damn," he muttered under his breath, turning just slightly to the side. "That's illegal."
The suit hugged him like it had been cursed into perfection. Every line sculpted, every seam smooth, every inch tailored for wickedness. It was quiet power. Confidence stitched into form. A whisper that turned heads louder than any shout.
Lux ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face, and watched his reflection smirk back.
He looked better than he did in Hell.
And that wasn't arrogance talking.
That was objective truth.
Behind him, the thick velvet curtain of the changing room rustled. Fiera had come to check on him—probably to gloat. Or to stress over cufflinks. Or just to see if he broke something.
Instead, she stood frozen in the doorway.
Mouth parted.
Eyes wide.
Tails twitching.
