Morning broke over New Haven, but it brought little comfort. The mansion, usually bustling with the early stirrings of the community, felt quieter than usual. The sky was a soft blue, but inside, an uneasy tension lingered in the air.
George, still recovering from the succubus's attack, sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. His body felt heavy, his limbs weak, and the sharp memory of the succubus's touch haunted his thoughts. He was grateful to Althea for saving him, but the weight of the night's events clung to him like a shadow.
As he stood up, his legs buckled slightly, forcing him to brace himself against the wall. He knew he had to put on a brave face, he couldn't let the others see how deeply the succubus had affected him. They were all depending on him to keep it together, especially with everything they had built so far. But he wasn't sure how long he could hide it.
