The gates to the Leisure Wing opened on gold hinges that made no sound.

  I stopped walking.

  Lilith reclined on a curved lounge upholstered in deep red silk. Her white skin stood stark against the fabric. She held a glass of wine—or something that looked like wine—in one hand, the liquid dark enough to be blood.

  That wasn’t what stopped me.

  Five people surrounded her. Two men, three women. Their hands moved across her body with focused attention—one massaging her shoulders, another working oil into her calves, a third woman’s head buried between Lilith’s thighs while the Queen sipped her drink and watched me enter.

  Heat flooded through me. Immediate. Unwelcome. My body’s response bypassed thought entirely.

  I refused to acknowledge it.

  Lilith’s expression shifted the moment she saw me. The detached pleasure vanished. Her face lit with genuine warmth, the kind Liam’s mind recognized from watching parents greet children at airports.

  “Lily.” She set the glass on a low table beside her. “What brings you here, darling?”

  I took a step forward before I’d decided to move. My tail curved behind me in a shape I didn’t consciously choose.

  “I wanted to ask you something.” The words came out steady despite the heat still crawling under my skin. “But if you’re busy—”

  “Nonsense.” Lilith waved a hand. Two of the attendants—the man at her shoulders and one of the women at her feet—withdrew immediately, backing toward the room’s edges with practiced efficiency. The woman between her legs remained, though her ministrations slowed. “For you, I always have time. Come, sit.”

  She patted the lounge beside her hip.

  The invitation felt like a test. Sitting there meant proximity to the remaining attendants. To Lilith herself, mostly nude and apparently unconcerned about either fact.

  I’d asked for this conversation. Backing away now would raise questions.

  I moved to the lounge and sat. The silk was warm from absorbed body heat. Lilith’s scent hit me properly for the first time—roses and something metallic underneath. My body recognized it as safe. Familiar.

  Liam’s mind had no context for that recognition.

  “It’s not urgent,” I said. My tail wrapped around my own ankle, squeezing. “If you’re occupied, I can come back—”

  I started to rise.

  Lilith’s hand closed on my wrist. Her grip was gentle but absolute. “Stay. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  The woman at her thighs chose that moment to do something that made Lilith’s breath catch. She didn’t look away from me. Didn’t dismiss the attendant. Just waited for my answer while being pleasured three feet from where I sat.

  My throat tightened.

  Ask the question. Get the answer. Leave.

  “So. I’m a succubus.” The words felt absurd coming out of my mouth. “Right?”

  Lilith’s expression shifted toward confusion, though the warmth didn’t fade. “Yes. Where are you going with this?”

  I forced myself not to look at the attendants. At Lilith’s exposed skin. At anything except her face. “I’ll need to feed on vital essence eventually. I was wondering if there were alternative methods to… the standard ones.”

  Lilith went completely still.

  The attendants continued their work. The room felt too warm. My wings shifted against my back without input from my conscious mind.

  She knows.

  The thought arrived with cold certainty. I’d phrased it wrong. Used the wrong words. Revealed knowledge I shouldn’t have or ignorance I couldn’t explain.

  “Since when?” Lilith’s voice came out soft.

  My chest constricted. Since when did I possess your daughter’s body? Since when have I been lying to you?

  I couldn’t answer. Any response felt like confession.

  Lilith’s hand squeezed my wrist. Her eyes were bright, focused entirely on me with an intensity that made my breath shallow. “Lily. Since when have you been experiencing the hunger?”

  The hunger.

  Not since when did you wake up in my daughter’s skin. Not since when did you start researching basic succubus biology that you should already know.

  Since when have you felt the hunger.

  Understanding arrived half a second before Lilith’s expression shifted again.

  Her smile was radiant.

  “Oh, darling.” She released my wrist and cupped my face with both hands. The wine glass forgotten, the attendants dismissed with a gesture that sent all three backing toward the door. “This is such a monumental step. My little girl is finally growing up.”

  I sat frozen while she beamed at me like I’d just announced acceptance to university.

  “We have so much to discuss,” Lilith continued. Her thumbs brushed my cheekbones. “Your first feeding should be special. Meaningful. We’ll need to arrange—” She stopped herself, laughed. “Listen to me, planning everything. You probably have questions. Ask me anything.”

  My mind was blank.

  She thought I was going through some kind of demonic puberty.

  She was happy about it.

  * * *

  “No.” The word came out too quickly. “I mean—you misunderstood, Mother. I haven’t experienced any hunger yet. At least I don’t think so.”

  Lilith’s expression didn’t shift. She released my face and settled back against the lounge. “Then why the question?”

  “I was reading about it, in the library.” True enough. “I wanted to understand what to expect before it happened.”

  “Darling, you don’t need to worry.” She reached for her wine glass. “When it arrives, you’ll know.”

  That wasn’t remotely helpful.

  I didn’t know how succubus hunger would manifest. Would it feel like skipping meals? Or arousal? The heat I’d felt earlier when I walked in—was that hunger, or just this body’s default state around sexual activity? I had no frame of reference. No way to distinguish normal from critical.

  “Is there anything specific I should watch for?” I kept my voice level. Curious daughter seeking information, nothing more.

  “You’ll know,” Lilith repeated. She took a sip of wine. “It’s unmistakable, trust me. Not something you could miss or confuse with anything else.”

  She set the glass down and smiled. “It’s just a matter of days now. Any day, really, given your age.”

  My chest tightened.

  That was exactly what I’d been worried about.

  I needed to ask the actual question. The one I’d come here to ask before she’d interpreted my concern as something else entirely.

  “So.” I gripped my tail to stop it from moving. “Whether I’m experiencing hunger or not, I’m still curious if there are other ways to satisfy it. What if there are no—” I stopped myself before saying victims. “—mortals available?”

  Lilith tilted her head. “There are a few methods. Alchemical substitutes. Meditation techniques for short-term suppression.” She waved a hand. “None are sustainable or as pleasant as feeding itself. But you won’t need to worry about any of that. There are plenty of mortals to feed on right here in the palace.”

  Like that was supposed to be reassuring.

  Her expression sharpened. “Vital essence is important for your health, Lily. Especially for a succubus your age. Don’t plan on skipping any meals.”

  My throat went dry. “No. No, of course not.” I forced casualness into my tone. “I was just curious. After reading about it in the library, I just wanted to learn more.”

  “You were always the curious one.” Lilith’s warmth returned. She reached over and tucked a strand of white hair behind my ear. “Speaking of learning—I’ve been thinking about enrolling you in the Academy of Infernal Arts.”

  I blinked. “The academy?”

  “The new term starts soon. The second of Sepulcher—seven days from now.” She shifted position, animated now in a way I hadn’t seen before. “It would be a wonderful opportunity for you to learn what an adult succubus should know. And you’d get to see what life is like for normal demons outside the palace walls.”

  School. She wanted to send me to school.

  With other succubi. Who would expect me to know things. Act in ways I didn’t understand.

  “It sounds fun,” I said carefully. “But I don’t remember much. Won’t I be behind the other students?”

  “Nonsense.” Lilith laughed. “Even without your memories, you’re still my daughter. A simple academy won’t be a match for you.” She stood, stretching with unconscious grace. “Besides, the curriculum starts slowly to allow common succubi to catch up. The ones who were recently turned and still adjusting.”

  She looked down at me, eyes bright with something that looked almost like pride.

  “You’ll do wonderfully. I’m certain of it.”

  I managed what I hoped was an appropriate smile.

  My mind was already calculating. Seven days. One week before I’d be surrounded by demons who knew more about being a succubus than I ever could. Who might notice inconsistencies I couldn’t predict. Who would expect me to feed.

  The chances of getting back to my human body were shrinking with every conversation.

  If they’d ever existed at all.

  * * *

  The knife sliced through the meat without resistance. I brought it to my mouth, chewed. The texture reminded me of veal—tender, slightly sweet. Better than veal, actually. Rich in a way that made my mouth water for the next bite.

  The Dining Hall stretched forty feet to vaulted ceilings. The table beneath my plate was a single piece of petrified hellwood—wood that had once been a person, according to one of the library texts. A mortal soul transformed into a tree in Asphodel, then cut down and shaped. The grain patterns twisted in ways that suggested screaming faces if you looked too long.

  I didn’t look.

  “The reports from Niflheim are concerning.” Lucifer set his goblet down. The wine inside gleamed like liquid rubies. “Astaroth has mobilized three legions to the upper border.”

  Lilith speared a piece of fruit—something that looked like a pomegranate but bled gold when pierced. “For defensive positioning, he claims.”

  “Defensive positioning requires one legion at most.” Lucifer’s jaw tightened. “Three suggests preparation for offensive action.”

  I cut another piece and lifted it to my lips. Flavour flooded my mouth while my tail swayed contentedly behind the chair. Most demons didn’t depend on normal food for survival—the library had been clear on that. This was pure pleasure. Indulgence without consequence since my body apparently didn’t produce waste.

  The conversation continued around me. I’d learned to let it wash over while I catalogued useful information. Niflheim. The frozen third circle. Astaroth, the ruler who valued logic over emotion.

  “I had six of his spies flayed last week,” Lilith said conversationally. “Left the skins in the transport gate as a message.”

  I swallowed my bite without reaction. A few days ago, I might have felt uneasy at the casual brutality. Now I simply filed it under political manoeuvring and reached for my drink.

  “Subtle.” Lucifer’s mouth quirked. “Did he respond?”

  “Sent a formal apology and a case of crystallized souls as tribute.” Lilith smiled. “The quality was exceptional. I think he got the point.”

  The meat was excellent. I took another bite.

  My tail curled against the chair behind me—some instinctive contentment response I still didn’t fully control. Neither parent reacted. Apparently that particular movement read as normal.

  “Speaking of points.” Lilith turned toward me. “Your father and I finalized the Academy arrangements.”

  My fork stopped halfway to my mouth. I set it down carefully.

  “I’d prefer to keep you here.” Lucifer’s voice carried weight that made the air feel heavier. “Another decade at minimum before throwing you into that chaos.”

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  “We discussed this.” Lilith’s tone held affection but no room for argument. “The Academy is something every succubus should experience. The social structures, the practical education—she needs it.”

  Lucifer’s exhale sounded like distant thunder. “You’re right. As usual.”

  “Of course I am, darling.” Lilith reached over and squeezed his hand, then focused on me. “We decided to enrol you as a commoner rather than announcing your bloodline.”

  I blinked. Processed. “A commoner?”

  “It was my idea,” Lucifer said. “This way the sycophants stay away from you. The social climbers looking to attach themselves to power.” His eyes—celestial blue that shouldn’t belong in Hell—fixed on me. “You’ll make genuine connections. Real friendships instead of political alliances disguised as camaraderie.”

  Lilith nodded. “Don’t worry though. You won’t be without support. Professor Moira works there—more of an acquaintance than a friend, but she’s competent. And I’ll send a letter to Headmistress Valencia explaining the situation.” She smiled. “If you encounter any issues they can’t solve, you can always reach out to us directly.”

  I sat very still. My mind raced through implications.

  Another role. Another layer of deception. Pretending to be a commoner succubus instead of a princess.

  Except I was already pretending to be Lily. What difference did another layer make? If anything, playing a commoner would be easier than playing royalty. Lower expectations. Fewer people who knew the original Lily’s mannerisms and history.

  But I didn’t want to play either role.

  I wanted my flat in London. My desk at the engineering firm. My body—male, human, comprehensible.

  The meat sat heavy in my stomach suddenly.

  “That sounds…” I searched for words that wouldn’t reveal the panic building behind my sternum. “Thoughtful. Thank you, Father.”

  The title still felt wrong in my mouth. This body’s parents, not mine. But using their names without the honorific would draw attention I couldn’t afford.

  Lucifer’s expression softened. “You’ve been through enough. The least we can do is ensure your education doesn’t become another political battlefield.”

  Seven days until the Academy started. Seven days until I’d be surrounded by other succubi who would expect me to know things, act certain ways, have instincts I was still reverse-engineering from observation and library research.

  Seven days until I’d need to feed.

  The thought made my throat tight. The books had been explicit about the timeline—starvation led to cognitive degradation, then feral behaviour. Ambient essence absorption could delay it but not prevent it indefinitely.

  I had seven days to find a way back to Earth. Back to my body. Back to a life that made sense.

  “Eat, darling.” Lilith gestured at my plate. “You’ve barely touched your meal.”

  I picked up my fork. The meat was still warm, still rich, still disturbingly delicious.

  The distant screaming from the dungeons filtered up through the palace architecture—background noise I’d stopped flinching at somewhere around day three.

  Seven days.

  I cut another piece and brought it to my mouth, chewing mechanically while my parents discussed border patrol schedules and tribute quotas.

  The hellwood table gleamed under the chandeliers, its grain patterns twisting like frozen agony.

  I swallowed and reached for my glass.

  * * *

  The remainder of the day passed in the Library’s impossible architecture.

  I made a mistake somewhere around hour two. Took a left at a shelf that curved into itself, followed a corridor that bent upward, and ended up staring at a section of ceiling-floor where gravity insisted I could walk if I just repositioned myself correctly.

  I couldn’t.

  Five hours later, one of the librarians found me sitting cross-legged in a pocket of space where three walls met at angles that hurt to look at directly.

  “Princess.” The demon—scales instead of skin, six arms holding different volumes—tilted her head. “You’ve been circling the Eastern Metaphysics section for quite some time.”

  “I noticed.” My voice came out flat.

  She gestured. The architecture shifted. A pathway opened.

  But those five hours weren’t wasted. Buried in a treatise on planar mechanics, I’d found it—a reference to mortals escaping from Hell. Rare. Complicated. But possible.

  * * *

  The next morning arrived with Anastasia’s knock.

  I opened my eyes to obsidian ceiling panels and chandelier crystals that caught the hellfire light. The distant screaming had become background noise I no longer registered.

  Anastasia entered without waiting for acknowledgment. “Good morning, Princess.”

  I sat up. The sheets pooled around my waist, and I experienced the brief disorientation that came with waking—my mind expecting different limbs, different weight distribution. It passed quickly now. Nine days of practice.

  “Morning,” I managed.

  Anastasia’s wings fluttered as she approached the wardrobe. She pulled out clothing I’d stopped protesting around day three. Sheer fabric panels, strategic cutouts, nothing resembling the button-downs and trousers I’d worn as Liam.

  Not my body. The rationalization helped.

  I slid out of bed and let Anastasia work. She moved with efficient grace, fastening clasps I couldn’t see and adjusting fabric that draped in ways that defied my understanding of material physics. I stood still and thought about transport gate mechanics instead.

  “The Queen mentioned shopping today,” Anastasia said.

  My shoulders tensed. “Right.”

  Lilith had insisted yesterday after dinner. Supplies for the Academy—whatever that meant in practical terms. She’d seemed genuinely enthusiastic about it, maternal warmth in her expression that looked disturbingly real.

  Like actual parents. The kind other people had growing up, the kind I’d observed from outside orphanage windows while families walked past.

  I shoved the thought down hard.

  Not my parents. This body’s parents. The only reason they weren’t flaying me alive was because they believed I was their daughter instead of some human engineer wearing her skin.

  That was the reality I couldn’t forget.

  Anastasia finished with the last clasp. “There. You look lovely, Princess.”

  I glanced at the mirror. The reflection showed curves and crimson eyes and white hair cascading past my waist. Lovely. Sure.

  I looked like someone who belonged in Hell.

  “Thank you, Anastasia.”

  My tail curled against my leg—some instinctive response I still didn’t fully understand. Anastasia didn’t react, so apparently it read as normal.

  Small victories.

  * * *

  I stood before the transport gate with Lilith, the crimson runes pulsing across its obsidian frame in rhythmic patterns. The Queen wore something simpler than usual—a dark dress that clung to her curves without the elaborate layers I’d seen at dinner. Still striking, but less obviously royal.

  She turned to me. “Apply your glamour, darling.”

  The words took a moment to process. I watched as Lilith’s form rippled. Her horns shortened, smoothed. The wings folded smaller against her back. The changes were subtle—flaws appeared here and there, imperfections that made her look less like a statue and more like something that could exist naturally. She looked like what the books described as a common succubus.

  My throat tightened.

  “Glamour?” The word came out uncertain.

  Lilith paused. Her lips moved—I caught fragments, something that sounded like Michael’s name wrapped in what I recognized as cursing even without catching the actual words. She exhaled and looked at me with that patient expression I’d seen too many times in the past nine days.

  “It’s our ability,” she said. “Instinctive. You just need to want to change.”

  Want to change. Simple instruction.

  My first thought was human—picture myself as Liam, as what I actually was. But that would be catastrophic. I looked at Lilith instead, studied her altered form. Smaller horns. Less intimidating wings. Beautiful still, but in a way that wouldn’t make people drop to their knees.

  I tried to picture myself like that.

  Nothing happened.

  Lilith waited. Patient. Expectant.

  The seconds stretched.

  Why wasn’t it working? She said to want it. The problem crystallized with uncomfortable clarity—I didn’t want to change into a succubus variant. I wanted to change back into myself. Forcing desire didn’t work like flipping a switch.

  “Is everything alright?” Lilith’s voice held a careful note.

  “Yes.” I kept my tone level. “I just don’t know what to change into.”

  “A common succubus like me would be simplest.” She tilted her head. “It’s not as though we’re going to spy on anyone.”

  Simple on paper. My mind reached for something, anything. Disguise. Think of it as putting on a disguise, not becoming something.

  The mental shift felt like finding a door I hadn’t noticed. Not wanting to be a common succubus—wanting to wear the appearance of one. A costume. A mask.

  Something in my body responded. A muscle I didn’t know existed, stretching in a direction I couldn’t name. The sensation washed over me like cold water—not uncomfortable, just utterly foreign. My horns felt different against my skull. Lighter. My wings shifted weight against my back.

  I didn’t have time to process it.

  Lilith’s hand moved through the air, and the transport gate flared to life. The empty space within the ring filled with rippling energy that looked like oil on water.

  “Follow me.” She stepped through without hesitation.

  The gate’s surface touched my skin as I crossed the threshold—cold, then hot, then nothing. Reality compressed and expanded simultaneously. My stomach lurched.

  Then I stood somewhere else entirely.

  * * *

  The world reassembled around me in layers—solid ground first, then walls of dark basalt rising on either side, then the sky above choked with red smoke that caught the light from below.

  The smell hit next. Sulfur, sharp and acrid. Something else underneath it—sweat and musk and a sweetness that reminded me of overripe fruit. My throat should have closed. My stomach should have turned.

  Instead, my body relaxed.

  The sensation disturbed me more than revulsion would have. This place smelled like home to whatever instincts lived in this form. Welcoming. Safe.

  Lilith moved forward without waiting, her heels clicking against the basalt. I followed, keeping close enough not to lose her in the crowd that appeared as we descended from the upper terrace.

  The market sprawled before us—stalls and shops carved directly into the volcanic rock, banners hanging from chains overhead, voices calling out prices and insults in equal measure. Demons moved through the press of bodies. Not just demons. Humans wearing iron collars. An elf with silver hair and brands across both cheeks. Something that might have been an orc, massive and green-skinned, pulling a cart loaded with fabric bolts.

  Only the demons walked free.

  I’d read about slavery in the Library. Academic descriptions of Hell’s economy, the role of mortal souls as currency and labour. Reading hadn’t prepared me for seeing a human woman standing on a raised platform while a demon examined her teeth.

  My steps slowed.

  “Lily.” Lilith’s voice cut through the market noise. “Keep up, darling. We don’t have an entire day.”

  I forced my legs to move. Forced my eyes forward. But the periphery kept catching things I couldn’t ignore.

  A man chained to a post, his back a mess of fresh wounds. The demon beside him laughing with another, gesturing at the blood like it was art.

  A shopfront displaying people the way the market near King’s Cross displayed produce. Five humans kneeling in a row, heads down, collars connected by a single chain. A sign above them listed prices by category—“Experienced Household Staff,” “Unskilled Labor,” “Recreational.”

  The last category made my stomach knot.

  Lilith navigated the crowds with practiced ease. I followed in her wake, keeping my expression neutral. That required active effort. My face wanted to show what I felt—horror, disgust, the fundamental wrongness of seeing people treated like objects.

  The worst part was the eyes.

  Most of the collared humans we passed had nothing behind them. No hope. No fight. Just empty compliance, bodies moving through motions while whatever made them human had been ground down to nothing.

  A girl no older than sixteen knelt beside a fruit stall, holding a tray of samples. Her hands didn’t shake. Her face showed nothing. Her hands lifted the tray toward each passerby—up, extend, retract—the same angle every time.

  I looked away.

  The shop Lilith led me to occupied a corner position with wide windows displaying mannequins in elaborate gowns. The presentation suggested elegance—gold fixtures, crystal accents, fabrics that caught the light in ways that reminded me of the palace. But something felt off. The stitching seemed simpler up close. The fabrics lighter. I had no context for what things cost in Hell, but I recognized quality when I saw it.

  Lilith pushed through the door. A bell chimed.

  The interior smelled like sandalwood and something floral I couldn’t identify. Racks of clothing lined the walls, organized by colour and style. A demon woman looked up from behind the counter—dark red skin, small horns, wings folded against her back in a way that suggested common succubus rather than nobility.

  Her face brightened. “Carmilla! I haven’t seen you in months.”

  Carmilla. Not Lilith. The glamour extended to identity, then.

  Lilith smiled. “I’ve been occupied with family matters. My daughter recently recovered from an extended illness.” She gestured toward me. “I’m here to purchase academy attire for her.”

  The shopkeeper’s attention shifted.

  I stood straighter, conscious of being examined. Her eyes moved over me—taking in the glamoured horns, the wings, the body that still felt like wearing someone else’s skin.

  “Well,” the shopkeeper said. “Let’s see what we can do.”

  * * *

  The shopkeeper stepped back from the counter. “Off with the clothes, dear. I need your measurements.”

  I waited for her to gesture toward a changing room. Show me where to go for privacy.

  She stood there, watching me.

  Lilith’s voice cut through the silence. “What are you waiting for?”

  “Here?” The word came out before I could stop it.

  “Where else in the Hells would I measure you—on the streets?” Shopkeeper’s tone suggested I’d asked something genuinely baffling. “Of course here.”

  Right. Succubi. Modesty wasn’t exactly part of the design specifications.

  I reached for the clasp at my shoulder. Reminded myself this wasn’t my body. That helped—thinking of it as a costume I was removing rather than undressing. The fabric slipped free easily enough, pooling at my feet in a whisper of silk.

  Standing there in nothing while two demons examined me should have been mortifying.

  It was mortifying. Just internally.

  The shopkeeper’s hands moved over my shoulders, measuring the span. Down my arms. Across my back where the wings emerged. Her touch was professional but thorough, fingers pressing against skin in ways that felt less like measurement and more like evaluation. She circled me slowly, hands skimming my waist, my hips.

  I kept my expression neutral. Let my tail curl slightly—that seemed to happen automatically anyway when I felt uncomfortable, and from what I’d observed, it read as normal fidgeting.

  “Lovely proportions,” the shopkeeper murmured. Her hand traced along my side, just under my breast. “Academy girls will be jealous.”

  I kept my voice level. “Of course.”

  She finished the circuit and disappeared into the back room without another word.

  Lilith settled onto a cushioned bench near the window. “Setra is the best in her business. The clothes here are almost premium—the finest a commoner can reasonably afford without drawing questions about their finances.”

  Before I could formulate a safe response, Setra returned carrying fabric draped over both arms. Black and white, structured pieces that looked like they involved more hardware than cloth.

  “Try this on.” Lilith gestured toward the uniform.

  The pieces went together more easily than they should have. My hands knew where clasps belonged, how to adjust the corset’s fit, which parts tucked and which remained exposed. Muscle memory I didn’t have—except apparently I did.

  I’d noticed that before. This body had instincts for things Liam never learned. Fighting. Moving. Wearing clothes that defied practical engineering.

  The uniform settled into place. Short skirt, cropped shirt, the corset creating structure at my waist. Stockings that climbed to mid-thigh. Heels that added three inches and should have made me unsteady but didn’t.

  “Perfect.” Lilith stood, circling me the way Setra had. “Though you’ll need more than academy attire. Setra—bring some appropriate clothes.”

  Setra vanished again. Returned with armfuls of fabric that made the academy uniform look conservative.

  Appropriate was clearly subjective.

  I tried on a dress cut so low it barely qualified as a garment. Leather pieces that involved more straps than coverage. Something that resembled lingerie pretending to be an outfit. Each piece fit perfectly. Each piece felt like wearing an invitation I hadn’t extended.

  The seventh outfit—something in dark red with strategic cutouts—was halfway on when the bell chimed.

  The man who entered wasn’t a succubus. Broader shoulders. Stronger jaw. Horns that curved differently, wings that looked heavier. Incubus, then. I’d read about them but hadn’t seen one yet.

  “Seth!” Setra’s voice brightened. “I didn’t expect you back until next week.”

  “Finished the commission early.” He moved toward the counter, then stopped. His eyes found me.

  He was handsome. The observation hit with unexpected clarity. Sharp features, dark hair, the kind of physical presence that demanded attention. My mind catalogued details automatically—the way he carried himself, the muscle definition visible through his shirt, the small scar cutting through one eyebrow.

  Then the thoughts shifted.

  What he’d look like without the shirt. How his hands would feel against skin. The taste of—

  I shook my head sharply. I wasn’t into men. That had never been complicated before.

  Heat bloomed low in my stomach. Not arousal exactly—or not only arousal. Something hollow underneath it. Empty. A space that wanted filling.

  Oh.

  The hunger Lilith had promised. Here. Now. Arriving without warning in the middle of a clothing shop while I stood half-dressed in front of strangers.

  It wasn’t overwhelming. Just persistent. A low pull toward the incubus that whispered I could take what I needed. That he’d be willing. That feeding would be easy and simple and satisfying.

  I could ignore it. The sensation sat in the background, manageable as long as I didn’t focus on it.

  But it had overridden my rational thinking for those first few seconds. Replaced normal observation with intrusive fantasies that felt alien and automatic.

  According to everything I’d read, this would get worse. Two weeks, maybe less, before this background noise became unbearable. Before thinking clearly stopped being an option.

  Two weeks to find a way out before I lost whatever dignity I had left.

  Seth was still looking at me. I needed to do something normal. Something Lily would do.

  I turned back to the mirror, adjusting the dress’s neckline. Let my tail sweep once behind me in what I hoped read as casual dismissal rather than the discomfort I actually felt.

  “The red suits you,” Lilith said from her bench. No indication she’d noticed anything unusual.

  “It does, doesn’t it?” The words came easier now. Still felt wrong, but I’d had practice.

  Play the role. That was all I could do.