The following scene contains depictions of sexual violence. If this topic is triggering for you, please consider skipping ahead. Reader discretion is advised.

I wrapped my fingers around the door's edge and eased it open. The hinges moved without sound, which was somehow worse than if they'd creaked. Enchantments, probably. Someone had prepared this place for secrecy.

We slipped inside, our footsteps muted by the enchanted cloaks. The interior smelled of dust and old stone, but underneath lay something else. Musk. Pheromones. Recent occupation.

A voice broke through the silence. Male. Muffled. The sound came from somewhere below, struggling against fabric or leather that blocked coherent words.

Then laughter erupted from the depths, feminine and bright. The sound bounced off stone walls, distorting slightly as it reached us.

"Your struggling only makes it more painful, you know," the woman said. Her voice carried through the floorboards beneath our feet.

The words continued, but the volume dropped too low for me to make them out. Just murmurs that suggested conversation rather than screaming.

My chest tightened. I'd heard that voice somewhere before. Recently. But where?

Aria froze mid-step, her shoulders going rigid. She stood there for three heartbeats, her tail swishing once behind her. Then she shook her head and continued forward, her jaw set.

We found stairs leading down. Stone steps descended into darkness, each one worn smooth in the centre where countless feet had passed. Isabella took point, her movements careful as she tested each step before committing her weight.

The voices grew clearer as we descended. The woman's laughter. The man's muffled protests. Wet sounds that spoke of flesh on flesh.

The basement opened before us, lit by floating orbs that cast everything in amber light. We crouched behind what remained of a collapsed wall, peering through the gaps.

My breath caught in my throat.

A woman sat astride a man tied to a chair, her hips rolling in slow circles. Her midnight-black hair cascaded down her back, purple undertones catching the light. The man beneath her writhed, his wrists bound behind the chair, his mouth gagged with dark fabric.

The woman turned her head slightly, and I saw her face.

Sombra Nova.

Aria's mother.

My chest seized. Isabella's hand found my shoulder, her fingers pressing hard enough to leave marks.

"If you succeed," Sombra said, her voice thick with pleasure, "I might award you by keeping you as my pet for a century or two longer." She leaned forward, her lips nearly touching the man's ear. "Better than the factories, wouldn't you say?"

The man's eyes squeezed shut. Tears leaked from the corners, tracking down his cheeks to soak into the gag.

We watched, unable to move, unable to breathe.

Sombra straightened, her spine arching as she rode him harder. "I'm afraid I'll have to cut our pleasure short. Can't stay here forever, can I?"

The man sagged in his bonds, something that might have been relief flickering across his face.

"You remember to play your role, yes?" Sombra's fingers traced down the man's chest. "Can't have your precious daughter suspect anything."

My heart hammered against my ribs.

"Speaking of suspecting," Sombra continued, her hips never stopping their rhythm, "the Academy is starting to notice things. I saw someone tailing Nyx already."

She dug her nails into the man's shoulders. He jerked, his body convulsing. The sound that escaped around his gag was neither scream nor moan but something between—raw and broken.

"Worst case, I'll have your daughter take the blame. But that would be a shame, wouldn't it?" Sombra smiled. "Such a useful tool she is."

The man's body tensed. His hips bucked upward, the chair scraping against stone. Another sound tore from behind the gag, higher pitched this time. Pure agony mixed with something that sounded obscenely like pleasure.

Sombra threw her head back, her mouth opening in a silent cry. Her fingers carved deeper, drawing blood that welled up beneath her nails.

The man's tears flowed freely now. His entire body shook, muscles standing out in sharp relief as he strained against his bonds. Each tiny movement seemed to cause him fresh torment, his screams pitching higher even as they remained trapped behind the gag.

Sombra rose to her feet, fluids dripping down her thighs. She looked down at the man with something like fondness.

"You know what? I might keep you like that until your daughter comes tomorrow. Let her find you in a pool of your own bodily fluids."

The man's eyes went wide. The sound he made was pure desperation, begging without words.

Sombra laughed, the sound light and musical. "I'm kidding, of course. Can't have Nyx think I'm mistreating you." She circled behind the chair. "But you better remember to tell Nyx how well I treat you."

Beside me, Aria had gone completely still. Her breathing stopped. Her face held no expression at all, which was somehow more terrifying than if she'd been crying.

My mind raced. Nyx's father. The mysterious contact in the Squalor District. The person coercing her into creating petrification enchantments.

All of it led here.

To Aria's mother.

* * *

Isabella's hand closed around my wrist. She tugged once, urgent.

I nodded. We'd seen enough.

We backed away from the collapsed wall, each step calculated to avoid loose debris. The sounds continued behind us—Sombra's laughter, the man's muffled cries, the scrape of the chair against stone.

Aria moved like she was made of glass. Her face remained blank, her eyes fixed somewhere beyond the physical space around us.

We reached the stairs. Isabella went first, testing each step. I followed, my tail curled tight against my back.

Aria came last.

The basement sounds faded as we climbed. Three steps. Five. Eight.

My tail swung out as I turned on the landing.

Something clattered. The sound of porcelain hitting stone, then shattering.

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The noises below stopped.

Complete silence.

Isabella's eyes met mine. Terror flickered across her face.

"Go," she mouthed.

We burst through the doorway. The night air hit my face, acrid and thick with sulphur. My feet pounded against broken obsidian. Isabella ran to my left, Aria to my right.

Behind us, a door slammed open.

We didn't look back.

The streets blurred past. Narrow alleys. Crumbling walls. Figures that pressed themselves into shadows as we passed.

My lungs burned. My legs screamed. I kept running.

Isabella ducked into an alley between two buildings that leaned so close their roofs touched. We followed, pressing ourselves against the wall.

Darkness swallowed us. Only the distant glow of the district's scattered lights penetrated the gap above.

I counted my heartbeats. Twenty. Thirty. Fifty.

No footsteps pursued us. No magic crackled in the air.

Isabella leaned forward, her head emerging from the alley entrance. She scanned the street, then pulled back.

"Clear," she whispered.

My chest heaved. Aria stood completely still beside me, her breathing steady and controlled.

* * *

I turned to Aria. "How is your mother even capable of getting materials from Pestilentia? She's a common succubus."

Aria's shoulders lifted and dropped. "I don't know."

"Why would she need Nyx?" The question emerged before I could stop it. "Wouldn't it be simpler to just ask you instead?"

"I." Aria's hands closed into fists. "Don't." Her jaw clenched. "Know."

"But there must be something more to it." I stepped closer. "Something you overheard or saw. Anything that—"

"How the hell would I know that my mother is somehow connected to all of this?" Aria's voice bounced off the alley walls. "Why would Sombra share her schemes with me? Do you think we sit around discussing her business over tea?"

"But you're her daughter."

Aria's laugh cut through the air, sharp and bitter. "Daughter. Right. Like that means anything." She pressed her palm against the wall. "She treats me like a tool. Would you share information about your schemes with tools? Tell a hammer you're about to strike a nail with it?"

I opened my mouth.

"Don't." Aria's hand came up. "Don't tell me about family bonds. It's not like everyone can have a loving family. Most in Hell can't." Her fingers scraped down the stone. "We don't sit around and confide in each other. Our relationship is purely transactional."

The words struck something in my chest. I'd known that Hell's family structures differed from human ones. But knowing and understanding were different things.

"She's only slightly less of a stranger to me than any other demon on the street." Aria's voice dropped. "Which is worse than being a stranger. Strangers don't have any expectations. They don't pretend they care about you."

"Aria, I didn't mean to—"

"Mean what?" Aria whirled to face me. "Remind me that I don't have a real family? That while you get parents who actually give a shit about you, my mother's only concern if I disappeared would be that she lost a useful pawn?"

I wanted to protest but words died in my throat.

"You have no idea what it's like." Aria's tail lashed behind her. "Your mother sends you letters warning you to be careful. Your father teaches you magic and actually explains things. Mine?" She laughed again, the sound hollow. "Mine collects daughters like fucking trophies and only remembers we exist when she needs something."

I'd spent my first weeks in this body convinced I was trapped. Alone. Surrounded by monsters who'd never understand what I was going through.

But Lilith had been there. Patient. Concerned in her cold, calculating way, but concerned nonetheless. Lucifer had answered my questions, even the stupid ones. They'd protected me. Cared for me.

They'd been parents. Real Parents.

What if they'd been like Sombra instead? What if every conversation had been laced with manipulation, every gesture a calculated move in some game I didn't understand? What if I'd truly been alone?

The thought made my stomach twist.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly.

Aria's breathing slowed. The tension in her shoulders eased by degrees. She closed her eyes, leaned her head back against the wall.

Silence stretched between us.

"I'm sorry too." Aria's voice came out quieter now. "I might have overreacted a bit." Her eyes opened, met mine. "I was jealous. Of your family. Of how they actually care about you."

I searched for the right words. Something to ease the pain I'd seen flash across her face. "You know, family isn't just about blood. Or contracts. Or whatever shit our parents decided." I gestured between us. "You and Isabella are more family to me than anyone back on Earth ever was."

Aria's mouth twitched. "You're terrible at cheering people up."

"I know."

"But…" She pushed off from the wall. "Thank you. For trying." Her tail unwound from around her leg. "You and Isabella are my real family. The one I actually chose."

"We chose you too."

Aria's expression shifted, something genuine replacing the bitterness. Then she sighed, long and exasperated. "You really need to learn some common sense, though. Asking me about my mother like that."

"Fair."

"We should leave." Isabella's voice cut through from where she'd been watching the alley entrance. "Go to my apartment. Figure out what to do next."

I nodded. Aria straightened, rolled her shoulders back.

We stepped out of the alley, the three of us falling into step together. The streets of the Squalor District stretched ahead, but their destination waited beyond them.

And after that, answers.

* * *

Isabella's apartment welcomed us with familiar comfort. The high ceiling and dark stone walls felt worlds away from the Squalor District's oppressive atmosphere. I sank into the plush sofa, my body melting into the cushions.

Isabella dropped beside me, her ice-blue eyes distant. "Something doesn't add up."

"Which part?" Aria claimed the armchair across from us.

"Why would Nyx care about her father?" Isabella's fingers drummed against her thigh. "Succubi don't maintain emotional attachments to mortal life. The transformation strips most of that away."

"But Nyx clearly does care." I shifted, trying to find a comfortable position.

"That's not how it works." Isabella's tail swished behind her. "At most, there'd be lingering resentment. Maybe some vague sense of familiarity. But not enough to risk expulsion for."

"Faith cared about me."

"Faith's transformation was hardly textbook." Isabella turned to face me. "True Magic doesn't follow standard patterns. You know that."

"So perhaps Nyx is another exception."

"Or there's more to this." Aria's voice cut through, sharper than I'd heard it all night. She'd been quiet since our conversation in the alley. Now her purple eyes blazed. "Sombra wouldn't bother unless she had leverage. Real leverage."

Isabella leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know her schemes." Aria's hands clenched on the armrests. "But I know how she operates. She doesn't just ask for favours. She finds what people want most and dangles it in front of them until they're willing to do anything."

The image of the bound man in that basement surfaced in my mind.

"We can't go back and question him." I rubbed my temples. "Too risky."

"He's probably bound anyway." Aria's tail wrapped around her ankle. "Magic or contracts or both."

"That leaves Nyx." Isabella's fingers stopped drumming. "But she doesn't know she's being manipulated."

"Even if we told her, she wouldn't believe us." I stood, paced toward the window. The city sprawled below, crystalline towers catching the lava's glow. "And Moira won't act without solid evidence."

Silence settled over us.

"Wait." Aria sat up straighter. "I just realized something." She pressed her hand against her forehead. "The man in the basement. I know him."

My head snapped toward her. "What?"

"Sombra's had him for ages. Since before I went to the Academy." Aria's voice took on a hollow quality. "He was just… there. One of her toys she kept around. She was going to dispose of him half a year ago."

"She kept him?" Isabella moved to the edge of her seat.

"I never questioned it. Demons keep thralls all the time." Aria's laugh came out bitter. "Now I know why she changed her mind."

The pieces clicked together. Sombra hadn't kept him out of mercy or affection. She'd kept him because Nyx transformed. Because suddenly he became useful.

"I could visit her boutique." Aria's words came slowly, each one measured. "Snoop around while she's distracted."

"You never go there unless necessary." Isabella's eyes narrowed. "She'd suspect something."

"Not if Aria gives her what she wants."

Both of them turned to look at me.

"You can't be serious." Isabella stood, crossed the distance between us.

"Why not?" I met her gaze. "Aria tells her that by some cosmic coincidence, she befriended a princess. That I don't know that she knows it. Sombra gets information she thinks is valuable. We get access to whatever she's hiding in that shop."

"That's insane." Isabella's horns caught the light.

"It's also our only lead." I looked between them. "I wasn't planning to hide my identity forever anyway."

Aria's expression shifted. Not the bubbly enthusiasm she usually wore, but something colder. Calculated. "Sombra's behind the Academy trouble. I'd bet my dress collection on it."

"You think she's connected to House Viridia?" Isabella's hand went to her chin.

"She deals in Pestilentia stuff. She's manipulating students to create petrification enchantments." Aria counted on her fingers. "The same enchantments used in recent attacks. Yes. I think she's connected."

My stomach tightened. If Sombra had ties to House Viridia's coup attempt…

"Then we need to know what she's planning." The words came out before I could stop them. "Before she makes her next move."

Aria stood, moved to stand beside me. "You'd really do this? Put yourself at risk?"

"She's already targeting people I care about." I gestured between them. "That makes it personal."

Isabella joined us at the window. The three of us stood in silence, watching Hell's eternal fires burn below.

"When do we do this?" Aria's reflection in the glass showed determination I'd rarely seen from her.

"Tomorrow." I turned away from the window. "Before I change my mind."

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