Hellfire – Princess of Hell

“There.” Aria slammed the textbook shut. “If I never see another quadratic equation, it’ll be too soon.”

I pulled my hand back before she could trap it between the pages. “You’ll see plenty more next week.”

“Don’t remind me.” She stood, stretching her wings wide enough that one wingtip brushed the ceiling. “I’m going to sleep before my brain leaks out my ears.”

I glanced at the clock on the wall—nearly midnight. The crystal formations embedded in the stone pulsed with dim amber light.

Aria paused halfway to her bed. “Oh, and tomorrow we need to hit the markets early. Alchemy ingredients, remember?”

Right. Professor Auriel had mentioned it at the end of class. Something about procuring our own materials for next week’s practical.

“Yeah,” I said. “She said it would be a ‘valuable learning experience.’”

Aria snorted. “She’s just making us waste our money. Fallen or not, most angels still hate demons. This is her version of petty revenge.”

I thought of Professor Auriel’s calm golden eyes, the way she’d walked us through essence extraction. “She didn’t strike me as petty.”

“Whatever. The result’s the same—I have to spend my allowance on stupid moss samples and powdered whatever.” Aria flopped onto her bed face-first. “This better count toward our final grade.”

“You won’t be spending your money,” I pointed out. “Isabella’s with us now, remember?”

Aria’s head popped up, purple eyes suddenly bright. “Oh. Right!” She grinned. “I keep forgetting we have a rich friend now. This is excellent.”

“Don’t abuse it.”

“I would never.” She rolled onto her back, tail curling contentedly. “I’ll only moderately exploit it.”

I shook my head and moved toward my own bed.

Bellas stood by the window, motionless. He’d been there for the past hour, staring out at the amber-lit city below. His reflection in the glass showed nothing—no expression, no sign of whatever thoughts moved behind those eyes.

If anything moved there at all.

I paused. “Bellas. You should sleep.”

“I don’t require rest, Mistress.” His voice carried no inflection. “But I will comply if you command it.”

The offer of choice wrapped around a leash.

I almost told him to do whatever he wanted. Caught myself.

He didn’t want anything. That was the problem.

“Go to bed,” I said quietly.

He bowed and moved to his assigned mattress without another word.

I settled into my own bed, silk sheets cool against skin that never quite felt cold anymore. Above me, the vaulted ceiling disappeared into shadow.

Aria’s breathing evened out within minutes. Bellas lay perfectly still, eyes closed, performing sleep like any other task.

I stared at the darkness and tried not to think about the letter I’d sent to Lilith. About what she’d read into the words I’d chosen. About how easily the lies had come.

Eventually, something like sleep pulled me under.

* * *

Fluorescent lights blazed overhead.

White. Sterile white, the kind that didn’t exist in Gehenna’s perpetual crimson twilight.

I blinked against the glare.

A face hovered above me. Male, middle-aged, wearing glasses and a concerned expression. “Mr. Dawnstar? Can you hear me?”

Mr. Dawnstar.

Not Princess. Not Lily. Not even Lilithiel.

Liam.

I tried to sit up. The world tilted sideways, and hands caught my shoulders—gentle but firm.

“Easy,” the man said. “You’ve been out for five days. Take your time.”

Five days.

I looked down.

Flat chest. No curves. Hands that were mine—actually mine, calloused from martial arts training, with the scar across my left knuckle from that stupid accident with the kitchen knife three years ago.

I was in a hospital bed. In London. In my body.

The room smelled like antiseptic and cheap coffee. A heart monitor beeped steadily beside me. Through the window, grey English sky stretched to the horizon.

“Where—” My voice cracked. Deeper than I remembered. “What happened?”

“Severe exhaustion coupled with dehydration.” The doctor—he had to be a doctor—adjusted his glasses. “If your friend Daniel hadn’t found you when he did, you could have died.”

Daniel.

Right. Daniel was the only person who’d actually check if I went silent for too long. Who’d use the emergency key to my flat when I didn’t answer calls.

The only real friend I’d ever had.

“You need to take better care of yourself, Mr. Dawnstar.” The doctor’s tone carried professional disappointment. “When was the last time you ate a proper meal?”

I didn’t know. Couldn’t remember.

Because I’d been in Hell. For weeks. Fighting and fucking and learning to be a demon.

Except—

I looked down at my hands again. Human hands. My hands.

Had it all been a hallucination? Fever dreams born of dehydration and exhaustion?

Princess Lilithiel. Lucifer and Lilith. Aria’s laugh and Isabella’s calculating gaze and Bellas’s broken certainty. The library with its impossible architecture. The warmth of Aria’s body pressed against mine in the bath.

None of it real.

Just my brain misfiring while my body shut down.

Relief hit like a physical blow. I sagged back against the pillows, chest tight.

I was home. I was me. Human. Alive.

The nightmare was over.

The doctor was saying something about hydration and rest and follow-up appointments. I nodded along, not really listening.

Through the window, London sprawled grSey and familiar and blessedly ordinary.

No demons. No slaves. No hunger that made me want to devour everything in reach.

Just me. Just Liam.

I closed my eyes and breathed.

And felt nothing.

No relief. No joy. No gratitude for the narrow escape.

Just… absence.

Like something vital had been cut away, leaving only hollow space behind.

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling tiles.

Wrong.

Something was wrong.

This didn’t feel like coming home.

* * *

The CAD software’s blue glow filled my vision. Structural load calculations for the Thames barrier retrofit—the same project I’d been working on before the hospital.

I clicked through layers. Adjusted parameters. Ran simulations.

All of it felt like moving through water. Slow. Muffled. Wrong.

The doctor had smiled when he’d signed my discharge papers. “Just take better care of yourself, Mr. Dawnstar. Eat regular meals. Stay hydrated. You’re young—you’ll bounce back.”

As if it were that simple.

As if I hadn’t spent weeks in another reality, learning to be something that wasn’t human.

Except I hadn’t. The dreams—what little I remembered—were just fever hallucinations. Something about an academy. Distant screaming. A library that defied physics.

Gone now. Fading faster each day, leaving only this hollow ache I couldn’t name.

I saved the file and stood. Coffee. I needed coffee.

The break room fluorescents hummed overhead. Steve stood at the microwave, watching a Tupperware container rotate behind the glass.

“Liam!” He turned, grinning. “You’re back! Feeling better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” The words came automatically.

“You missed so much.” Steve pulled his food out, steam rising. “Dr. Where dropped three new episodes while you were out. The Spacearch reveal? Insane. I won’t spoil it, but—”

The door opened.

A woman entered. Mid-twenties, professional blazer over a white blouse, dark hair pulled into a neat bun. I’d never seen her before.

But her face—

Something about it tugged at recognition I couldn’t place.

“Oh, hello.” She smiled. “You must be Liam Dawnstar. I’m Susan—just started in HR last week.”

“Right. Welcome.” I moved toward the coffee machine.

Steve excused himself, carrying his lunch back toward his desk.

Susan poured herself tea. “I heard you were ill. Feeling better now?”

“Fine. Just… needed some rest.”

“Must have been frightening. Collapsing like that.”

I shrugged, focusing on the coffee grounds.

“Do you live alone?” Her voice carried genuine curiosity, not HR-department concern.

“Yeah. Just me.”

“No family nearby?”

“Foster kid. Never adopted.” I added milk, watching it cloud the black. “My friend Daniel checks in sometimes.”

“That sounds lonely.”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

She stepped closer. Too close. The scent of her perfume—something floral I should recognize but couldn’t—filled the space between us.

“What about relationships? Anyone special?”

“Had a girlfriend. Faith. She ended it a few weeks back.” Why was I telling her this? “No explanation. Just… done.”

“Her loss.”

Susan’s hand touched my arm. Light. Warm.

I looked at her face again. The shape of her eyes. The curve of her mouth.

Familiar.

“Do I—have we met before?”

“No.” She smiled. “But I feel like I know you.”

Her other hand rose to my chest. I should step back. Should make some excuse about getting back to work.

I didn’t move.

She kissed me.

Deep. Demanding. Her body pressed against mine, one hand sliding into my hair.

I kissed back. Desperate. Hungry in a way that made no sense for someone I’d just met.

The fluorescent lights flickered.

She pulled back just enough to speak. “Tell me something, Liam.”

The room grew dimmer. Edges softening.

“Do you really think this is where you belong?”

I blinked. The lights were wrong now. Too warm. Red-tinged.

Her hair wasn’t dark anymore—it was bleeding white, falling loose from the bun. Her eyes shifted from brown to crimson.

Horns curved back from her forehead.

“Did you miss me?” Lilithiel asked. My voice. The one I’d heard in fever dreams that weren’t dreams at all.

“No—”

The office dissolved. Steve’s desk. The coffee machine. The industrial carpet.

All of it peeling away like paint over rust.

She leaned in again, lips brushing my ear. “You can’t hide in his life forever.”

“This isn’t—I’m home—”

“Are you?”

She kissed me again.

The office walls melted. Steve’s desk bled into shadow. The fluorescent hum died.

Only her mouth remained real.

I grabbed her waist—pulled her closer despite every rational impulse screaming otherwise.

The concrete beneath my feet softened. Became carpet. Then sheets.

Pressure shifted. I was lying down now. Someone above me.

Her face blurred. White hair darkening to black. Crimson eyes shifting violet.

The tongue in my mouth never stopped moving.

Aria’s grin replaced Lilithiel’s smirk, playful where it had been knowing.

My hands gripping her hips. Feeling the curve of her tail moving behind her.

She pulled back just enough to speak.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

* * *

I blinked.

Aria grinned down at me, hands planted on either side of my head. Black hair tousled. Purple eyes bright with mischief.

The office dissolved in real time. Steve’s face blurred into nothing. The fluorescent hum faded. Even the kiss—Susan’s mouth, Lilithiel’s smirk—all of it evaporating like smoke.

Just a dream.

I exhaled.

“Did you just—did you kiss me?”

“Mhm.” She didn’t move. Still straddling me, tail swaying behind her. “You looked so tempting lying there. All breathy and making these adorable little sounds. I couldn’t help myself.”

I grabbed the pillow and threw it at her face.

She caught it, laughing. “What? I needed to wake you up, and that was the most efficient method.”

“Efficient? How?”

“Well, I thought about going lower—” Her gaze dropped meaningfully. “—but then we’d never make it out of bed, and Isabella’s already waiting.”

Right. Isabella.

Third member of our group now. Alliance forged three days ago over strategy and wine that led to—

I shoved the memory aside and sat up. “Don’t wake me up like that again.”

“Noted.” Aria’s grin widened. “Next time I’ll skip straight to the lower lips.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

She stuck her tongue out. “Come on. Admit you liked it.”

I did. The phantom sensation of her mouth still lingered.

I wasn’t saying that out loud.

“You kissed me back, you know.” Aria leaned in, eyes dancing. “Pulled me closer even though you were half asleep. Your hands were very enthusiastic.”

Heat crawled up my neck. “Get ready.”

“So defensive.” She finally rolled off me, stretching. “It’s cute.”

We dressed in academy uniforms—cropped shirts, corsets, short skirts, thigh-highs. The routine took minutes now. Muscle memory handling laces and clasps while my mind wandered.

Had it all been a dream? London. The hospital. Faith’s absence and Daniel’s concern and the terrible relief of waking up human again.

None of it real.

Just fever-images conjured by a sleeping succubus brain.

I should feel relieved.

I felt hollow instead.

“So.” Aria adjusted her shirt, making sure maximum underboob showed. “What were you dreaming about?”

“Don’t remember.”

“Shame.” She glanced at me sidelong. “Must’ve been something good though. You were smiling at first, then the moaning started. Little gasps and whimpers—really breathy stuff. Got pretty intense there at the end.” Her grin turned wicked. “Especially impressive since you usually don’t make sounds at all.”

“Aria—”

“I’m just saying, whatever fantasy you were having, it was—”

“Ingredients,” I cut in. “Alchemy supplies. Isabella waiting. Remember?”

“Fine, fine.” She grabbed her bag. “But we’re discussing your secret wet dream habits later.”

I didn’t dignify that with a response.

We headed for the door. My hand touched the handle when something white caught my eye.

A letter sat on my bedside table.

Folded parchment sealed with red wax. The mark pressed into it—a rose wrapped in thorns.

Lilith’s seal.

She’d replied already.

My chest tightened. I’d sent that letter last night after returning from the bathhouse. Carefully worded admissions about feeding and friendship and wanting to see the mortal realms.

What had she written back?

“Lily?” Aria paused in the doorway. “You coming?”

I grabbed the letter and shoved it into my ring. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

Whatever Lilith had to say, it could wait a few hours.

* * *

Isabella leaned against the wall outside the dormitory entrance, arms crossed. She straightened when she saw us approach.

“I was beginning to wonder when you’d show up.”

“Blame Aria,” I said.

Aria gasped. “Excuse me? You were the one having the best dream. Waking you would’ve been criminal.”

“You still did. By kissing me.”

Isabella’s lips curved. “Effective.”

“That’s what I said!” Aria bounced on her heels.

I sighed. “Let’s just get going.”

We fell into step, heading toward Merchant Row. The morning heat rolled across the cobblestones, carrying the scent of sulfur and something sweet I couldn’t identify. A few students passed us going the opposite direction, arms loaded with books.

“So what are we buying?” Aria asked.

“Silverleaf, Blazeroot, more Moonpetal.” Isabella ticked them off on her fingers. “Possibly Emberwood shavings if they have quality stock.”

I glanced at her. “You think everything’s here?”

“Should be. Merchant Row is usually well-equipped for basic alchemy supplies.”

The covered arcade appeared ahead, obsidian columns framing the entrance. We stepped inside, and the temperature dropped several degrees. Crystal lights flickered overhead, casting uneven yellow-green light across the shop windows.

We walked past Academic Supplies, Fashion & Uniforms, the Books & Literature shop with its twitching covers. I didn’t look too closely this time. Easier that way.

The Alchemical Reagents shop sat three doors down, exactly where I’d found it Friday night.

The same succubus stood behind the counter. She looked up as we entered, and her face brightened when she saw me.

“Welcome back, love. Brought friends this time?”

Isabella raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been here before?”

“I needed to buy something.”

Aria patted my back, grinning. “I knew it.”

Heat crept up my neck. I didn’t correct her assumption.

Isabella approached the counter and pulled out a written list. “Silverleaf—three bundles. Blazeroot, powdered, two measures. Moonpetal, high-grade if you have it.”

The merchant nodded, already turning toward the shelves. “Give me a moment.”

While she gathered ingredients, I drifted toward the side wall. I hadn’t had time to look around during my last visit—too focused on getting the salt and leaving.

Now I saw what I’d missed.

A row of glass vials near the back contained liquids that shifted color when I moved. Labels in careful script: Velvet Descent, Rapture’s Edge, Endless Need. Aphrodisiacs, probably. Or worse.

Next shelf down—crystalline suppositories in silver cases. I didn’t read those labels.

Something caught the light on the bottom shelf. A jar no bigger than my palm, containing what looked like living flame. It flickered inside the glass, orange and gold, pulsing in a rhythm that matched my heartbeat when I watched it too long.

What the hell was that for?

“—and I’ve got the new batch of sensitivity oils if you’re interested,” the merchant was saying. “Topical application, effects last four to six hours. Very popular with the second-years.”

Aria’s voice, bright with interest: “What do they do exactly?”

“Amplify surface nerve response. Makes every touch feel—”

A hand touched my shoulder.

I jerked around. Aria stood there, grinning. “We’re finished. You ready?”

I glanced back at the jar. The flame pulsed once more, then stilled.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

We left the shop, Aria carrying a small bag of purchases. Isabella walked beside her, tail swaying in a relaxed arc.

The arcade felt cooler after the shop’s interior. We headed back toward the main campus, passing students in various states of dress and undress.

Aria pulled something from her bag—a lollipop shaped like a penis, bright purple and wrapped in clear film.

“Can’t wait to test this out later.” She grinned, turning it over in her hands. “Shame there were only two left.”

She looked at Isabella. “Want to try it later? Seems like your thing.”

Isabella’s expression didn’t change. “Ask Lily first. I’ve used similar products before. She might want to know what having one is like.”

My brain stuttered. “What?”

Aria held it up. “It’s temporary. Lasts about two hours. The merchant said it’s—”

“No thanks.”

“You sure?”

“Not really my thing.” Whatever the hell that thing was.

Isabella chuckled and plucked the lollipop from Aria’s hand. “Then it’s settled. Seems like Lily wants to stick to taking.”

Wait.

Taking what?

“Don’t worry, Lily.” Aria looped her arm through mine, eyes dancing. “We’ll take care of you.”

Oh no.

My pulse spiked. The morning heat pressed down harder. Aria’s grin widened as she watched my face, and Isabella’s mouth curved in that subtle, knowing way that meant she’d already planned everything three steps ahead.

I was going to die…

Metaphorically, but still.

* * *

We climbed the stairs to the fifth floor. Isabella kept pace beside me while Aria bounced ahead, humming something off-key.

“I’ve never actually been inside the commoner dormitories,” Isabella said. “The layout’s different from the pureblood residences.”

“Probably smaller.” I pulled my key from the ring.

“Most things are.”

The door swung open. Bellas sat on one of the spare beds, reading a book. He looked up, then stood and bowed.

“Mistresses.”

Aria waved him off. “Relax, Bellas. We’re just back for a bit.”

He returned to his book without comment.

Isabella stepped inside, scanning the room. Her gaze moved from the four beds to the shared wardrobe, the writing desks, the bathroom door. “It’s quite small, but functional. Good light from the window.”

She walked to my side of the room. Stopped. “This is well-organized.”

Aria flopped onto her bed. “That’s Lily’s side. Not surprising, right?”

“Not particularly.” Isabella ran a finger along my desk. No dust. Everything in its place—books stacked by size, quills aligned parallel to the edge. “Very… methodical.”

“Hey!” Aria propped herself up on one elbow. “My side isn’t that bad.”

I glanced at Aria’s half of the room. Clothes draped over the chair back. Papers scattered across the desk. A shoe on the floor, its partner nowhere visible.

Isabella’s mouth curved. “Of course not.”

I sat on my bed while they bickered. The mattress gave slightly beneath me, familiar now. My hand slipped into the spatial ring.

The letter materialized in my palm. Heavy parchment, sealed with red wax. Lilith’s mark—a stylized rose wrapped in thorns.

Probably a good thing I’d written as truthfully as possible. Lilith likely had eyes everywhere in the Academy beyond just Moira and Valencia. Even if I hadn’t consciously thought about that when I’d written the damn thing.

I broke the seal. The wax cracked cleanly.

“—and Bellas gives the best back massages,” Aria was saying. She’d shifted topics while I wasn’t paying attention. “Seriously, Isabella, you should try it sometime. He knows exactly where all the tension sits.”

“Does he.” Isabella’s tone was neutral, but her gaze flicked to Bellas.

“It’s incredible. Right, Lily?”

I looked up from the letter. “What?”

“Bellas. The massages.”

“Oh. Yeah. He’s good at that.”

Aria grinned. “See? Even Lily admits it, and she barely admits anything feels good.”

That wasn’t—

Actually, that was probably fair.

I turned my attention back to the letter. The parchment crinkled as I unfolded it.

Time to see what Lilith thought of my attempt at sounding like a proper succubus.

* * *

I unfolded the parchment fully. Lilith’s handwriting was elegant, flowing—each letter perfectly formed.

My dearest Lily,

Your letter arrived last night. I’d barely broken the seal when your father plucked it from my hands. He’s been grinning ever since. I haven’t seen him this pleased in decades. Whatever you wrote clearly delighted him, though he refuses to tell me what amused him so thoroughly.

I blinked. Tried to picture Lucifer—the King of Hell—grinning over something I’d written.

Couldn’t.

I wish I’d been there for your first feeding. A mother should witness her daughter’s first true step into adulthood, but these things can’t be controlled. At least you found a valuable friend to guide you through it. Aria sounds like exactly the kind of influence you needed in that moment.

Behind me, Aria’s voice rose. “—seriously, you have to feel this. Bellas, show Isabella what I mean.”

“Is this necessary?” Isabella’s tone carried mild scepticism.

“Trust me.”

Moira tells me you excelled in her class. I’m not surprised. You’ve always had a gift for reading people, even before the coma. Do you remember how you used to manipulate your father? No, of course you don’t. But you had Lucifer wrapped around your little finger from the moment you could walk. He’d deny you nothing when you looked at him just so.

Something tightened in my chest. I didn’t remember that. Couldn’t remember that.

But I had been good at reading people too. Observing. Cataloguing.

I’m glad you’re making friends. Aria and Isabella sound perfect for you—Aria to keep you from overthinking everything, Isabella to temper your adventurous nature. You were always prone to both extremes as a child. Do you know, when you were eleven, you tried to sneak through the palace transport gate? You nearly made it too. Would have succeeded if a guard hadn’t noticed the gate flickering.

My hand stilled.

Eleven years old. Sneaking out.

I had done that. Different place, different body, but—running away from the orphanage just to see what was outside. To explore. To know.

“There, feel that?” Aria’s voice broke through. “Right between the shoulder blades. That’s where all the tension sits.”

“Mm.” Isabella’s response was noncommittal.

I returned to the letter.

Don’t worry about how quickly you’ve bonded with them. It’s natural for succubi to form fierce attachments once they mature. Those first bonds often become the strongest, hardest to break. How protective you are of them simply means your nature is working correctly. You’ve marked them as yours, and Lilim are fierce when it comes to their property. That comes with my blood.

Property.

I’d called them mine in my head. Noticed myself thinking it.

But that was just—

It’s quite a coincidence, your curiosity about the mortal realms. I’d been thinking the same thing recently.

My breath caught.

You were always the inquisitive one. Always wanting to see beyond Hell’s borders, to understand how other worlds function. It’s good you’re not limiting yourself the way so many of your peers do. Yes, mortals are lesser beings, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be useful. Take our Infernal Calendar—every name, every structure borrowed from mortal convention because it proved efficient. They may be cattle, but even cattle can inspire innovation.

The parchment crinkled slightly in my grip.

It’s decided, then. We’ll go hunting in the mortal realms during your winter break. You can choose which realm we visit—I want this to be proper mother-daughter bonding time. We haven’t had nearly enough of that, and thirty years is far too long to go without.

Winter break.

That was—I pulled the Academy calendar from memory—Three and a half months away.

Too long. I needed to get back before then, needed to—

Your father misses you, though he’d never admit it outright. He wanted to visit immediately, but the King of Hell descending on the Academy would cause considerable disruption. So we’ve compromised—we’ll visit next week to see how you’re settling in and meet these friends of yours.

Next week.

Lucifer and Lilith. Here. Meeting Aria and Isabella.

Don’t worry about your cover. I can play the role of merchant mother perfectly well. Your father, however… we’ll need to work on his performance as a consort. Common succubi don’t have fathers in the traditional sense, so he’ll essentially be arm candy. The idea amuses him more than it should.

I tried to picture Lucifer as “arm candy.”

Failed.

One last thing, darling—please don’t burn down the Academy. I’m only half joking. I still remember your experiments with fire magic, even if you don’t. Professor Thaddeus needed three weeks to repair his classroom.

The letter ended with a flourish of Lilith’s signature.

I stared at the parchment.

“—okay, you’re right, that is quite good.” Isabella’s voice had shifted, gone slightly breathless. “Bellas, continue.”

The letter sat in my hands. Heavy.

Lilith wrote like a mother. Talked about childhood memories I didn’t have, referenced habits I couldn’t recall, planned trips like this was normal. Like I was her daughter.

She was a demon. A succubus who called humans cattle, who casually discussed hunting in mortal realms, who measured affection through possession and territory.

But the warmth underneath—the genuine care threaded through every line—

That was real.

Affection directed at Lily. At someone who wasn’t me.

Except Lily was me now. Had been for twenty-three days.

And Lilith didn’t know. Thought she was writing to her amnesiac daughter, not—

Not what? A displaced human? That seemed less certain every day.

The similarities were there. Sneaking out. Overthinking. Reading people. Adventurous.

But those were Lily’s traits. Not mine.

Weren’t they?

I’d never had this. Parents who remembered my childhood fondly, who wanted to spend time with me, who missed me when I was gone.

Foster care didn’t work like that.

My throat tightened.

This wasn’t for me. The letter, the warmth, the planning—it was for someone else. Someone who’d been in a coma for thirty years while I lived a completely different life.

But I was reading it. Holding it. Feeling—

Something wet touched my cheek.

I raised my hand. My fingers came away damp.

A tear.

* * *

I wiped it away.

Pathetic. Crying over a letter that wasn’t even meant for me.

“Whatcha reading?”

I glanced up. Aria leaned against the doorframe, watching me with her head tilted. Behind her, Isabella sat on the sofa while Bellas worked his thumbs into her shoulders.

“Letter from my mother.” I folded the parchment, tucked it back into the ring.

“Ugh, what does she want now?” Aria flopped onto the bed beside me, mattress bouncing. “More orders? Requests? Let me guess—she needs you to pick up some rare ingredient from the alchemist because her usual supplier is out of stock?”

“No. Actually.”

Aria blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

“Just…” I gestured vaguely. “Checking in. Asking about classes. Planning a visit.”

“Huh.” Aria stared at the ceiling. “That’s… nice, I guess.”

Something in her voice made me look at her properly. Her tail hung limp over the edge of the bed.

“At least she pretends she cares,” Aria said. Quiet. “I wish mine would send me something other than orders. Or requests to work the shop. Even if it was just for show, you know? Just once.” She laughed, but it came out hollow. “Stupid, right?”

“It’s not stupid.” Isabella’s voice carried across the room. “Your mother treats you like an employee, not a daughter. That’s not stupid to resent.”

I shifted closer to Aria. Put my hand on her shoulder. “We care. If that counts for anything.”

Isabella rose from the sofa and crossed to the bed, settling on Aria’s other side. “What she said.”

Aria glanced between us. Snorted. “You two are shit at cheering people up.”

“We’re demons,” Isabella said. “Not exactly the sort to excel at emotional comfort.”

“Fair point.” Aria’s tail flicked upward, curling slightly. “Okay, new plan. Bellas, get over here. All three of us need the full treatment.”

I watched Bellas approach. Noted how Aria’s expression had already shifted from melancholy to anticipation. How quickly she could pivot.

How quickly I’d learned to read those pivots.

Bellas positioned himself at the foot of the bed, waiting.

“Start with Aria,” I said. “She needs it most.”

Aria stuck her tongue out at me but shifted to give Bellas access to her back.

His hands pressed into her shoulders. She made a satisfied noise and closed her eyes.

Isabella met my gaze over Aria’s head. Something passed between us—acknowledgment, maybe. Or just understanding that this was what we did now. Noticed when one of us hurt. Did something about it.

I still didn’t know why it mattered so much.

* * *

Bellas’s hands worked down my spine in steady, methodical strokes. The tension I’d carried since reading Lilith’s letter bled out under his fingers.

“Better?” he asked quietly.

I made a noncommittal sound.

He moved to Isabella next, and I watched his hands press into her shoulders. She’d been holding herself rigid without realizing it—her posture always too perfect, even in private. Under his touch, she softened.

When he finished, all three of us sat up. My muscles felt loose in a way they hadn’t since… since the bathhouse, probably.

Aria stretched, wings flaring briefly before folding back. “So.” She grinned at Isabella. “Ready to test those lollipops?”

I froze.

Isabella rose from the bed, already adjusting her uniform. “Not today.”

“What?” Aria’s tail drooped. “But you said—”

“I said we’d test them. I didn’t specify when.” Isabella smoothed nonexistent wrinkles from her skirt. “Besides, it would be better at my apartment. More space. Better acoustics.”

Better acoustics. For what, exactly?

I still hadn’t asked what the lollipops actually did. Their shape told me enough to know I didn’t want to know.

“You’re no fun,” Aria muttered. “We were supposed to have fun today.”

“I have duties to attend to.” Isabella’s tone left no room for argument. “House matters that can’t wait.”

Aria flopped backward onto the bed, arms spread wide. “Fine. But I’m not waiting forever, you know.” She turned her head toward Bellas, tail curling thoughtfully. “Bellas can always fill in if you keep being boring.”

Isabella’s mouth quirked. Not quite a smile, but close. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She headed for the door, pausing at the threshold. “Tuesday evening. My apartment. Clear your schedules.”

Then she was gone.

I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

Saved. For now.

Aria propped herself up on her elbows, watching me. “You looked relieved.”

“Just tired,” I lied. “Long day.”

“Uh-huh.” She didn’t believe me, but she didn’t push.

I glanced at the window. Still hours until nightfall. Hours I could spend in the library.

Research. That’s what I needed. Not whatever the hell those lollipops were designed for.

Some way to reach Earth. Contact the real Lilithiel. Force a swap, a negotiation, something.