The elf woman stared at us with wide, terrified eyes, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Despite her earlier pleas, she now seemed determined to remain silent.

  Isabella tilted her head, her ice-blue eyes narrowing. "You mentioned your family a moment ago. Where are they? How many of you are there?"

  The elf's eyes darted between us, but she kept her mouth firmly shut, though her lower lip trembled with the effort.

  "Not talking now?" Aria sighed dramatically. "And here I thought we could do this the easy way."

  Isabella exchanged a glance with Aria, something unspoken passing between them. "I think our little mortal friend needs some encouragement," Isabella said, her voice dropping to a silky purr that somehow sounded more threatening than any shout.

  "Couldn't agree more," Aria replied, a grin spreading across her face as she reached for the fire-enchanted dagger Isabella had provided for our expedition.

  The elf's eyes widened further at the sight of the blade, which began to glow with a faint orange light as Aria unsheathed it.

  "Last chance," Isabella said pleasantly. "Tell us what we want to know."

  When the elf remained silent, Isabella nodded to Aria. "Hold her still."

  I watched as Isabella's perfectly manicured nails lengthened into sharp, curved claws—a demonic feature I'd rarely seen her use. With deliberate slowness, she traced one claw along the elf's cheek, not breaking the skin yet, just letting her feel the sharpness.

  "Such pretty skin," Isabella murmured. "It would be a shame to ruin it."

  Without warning, she flicked her wrist, leaving four shallow cuts across the elf's forearm. The woman gasped but bit down on her lip to keep from crying out.

  "Oh, she's trying to be brave," Aria laughed, the sound light and musical, as if they were sharing a joke at a party rather than torturing someone. "That never lasts long."

  Aria brought the heated blade close to the elf's face, letting her feel the warmth radiating from it. "Do you know what's special about this dagger? It cauterises as it cuts. Means you won't bleed out, no matter how many little pieces we take."

  The elf's resolve visibly wavered, but still she said nothing.

  "Your turn, Lily," Isabella called to me, her voice casual. "Want to help? It's quite satisfying, actually."

  I hesitated, watching as Aria pressed the flat of the heated blade against the elf's shoulder, causing her to finally scream. The sound should have horrified me, should have triggered some deep-seated human empathy. Instead, I felt a flicker of curiosity. What would it feel like to make someone scream like that? To hold that kind of power?

  The thought shocked me back to awareness. Was I actually considering joining them? When had I started viewing mortals as... mortals? As things to be used rather than people deserving of dignity?

  "I'll... observe for now," I said, my voice steadier than I expected.

  Aria shrugged. "Suit yourself. More fun for us."

  She returned her attention to the elf, who was now sobbing quietly. With practiced precision, Aria made a series of small, burning cuts along the woman's collarbone, each one drawing a fresh cry of pain.

  "I don't know anything!" the elf finally shouted. "Please, just stop!"

  "Oh, she speaks!" Isabella laughed, clapping her hands together like a delighted child. "But that's not what we want to hear."

  Isabella's claws dug into the elf's scalp, tangling in her hair and pulling her head back sharply. "Let's try again. Your family. Where are they?"

  "There's no one!" the woman screamed, tears streaming down her face. "I'm alone!"

  "Lying isn't nice," Aria tsk-tsked, heating the blade again with a whispered word. She pressed it against the back of the elf's hand, holding it there as the woman's screams echoed through the jungle.

  They worked with a natural rhythm, Isabella and Aria, trading places and techniques with a fluid grace that suggested an innate talent for causing pain. They laughed and joked throughout, complimenting each other's techniques and discussing the elf's reactions as if critiquing a performance.

  "Please," the elf finally whimpered, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Please stop. I'm begging you. I'll tell you everything, just please... stop hurting me."

  "Was that so hard?" Isabella asked, her voice light and conversational as she retracted her claws to their normal length.

  Aria giggled, wiping the blade clean on her sleeve. "I swear mortals do it on purpose so we can have fun. They always wait until you make them scream a few times before talking."

  Isabella nodded with a slight smile before turning her attention back to the elf. "Now, about your family—how many of you are there?"

  The elf woman swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "There's... there's a village."

  "Village?" Aria's eyebrows shot up. "Well, isn't that interesting. And how exactly did you get here?" She twirled the dagger between her fingers, the blade catching the strange bioluminescent light of the jungle.

  "I don't know," the woman said quickly, her eyes fixed on the weapon. "I'm not a mage. One day the entire forest just... appeared here."

  My interest piqued at this. A forest that suddenly materialised in a transition zone between Hell's circles? That couldn't be natural.

  "Are there any mages in your village?" I asked, stepping closer.

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  The woman hesitated, her mouth clamping shut again. Aria immediately raised her blade, letting it flash menacingly in the light. The elf flinched.

  "There's a village elder," she blurted out. "He knows magic."

  "Final question," Isabella said, examining her nails as if bored. "How long have you been here?"

  "Not very long," the elf replied. "Only fifty years."

  Only an elf would think fifty years wasn't very long, I thought. Then again, I'd probably think the same way in a few hundred years.

  Aria looked between Isabella and me, her eyes bright with excitement. "Should we visit this elf village? A small detour wouldn't hurt, right?"

  Isabella frowned slightly. "There's a possibility we might find something interesting there, but we're on a tight schedule. I don't know..."

  The elf woman's expression shifted, a flicker of hope crossing her features at the possibility we might leave her people alone. I studied her face, noting how pitiful she looked with tear tracks staining her cheeks and small burns marking her skin. Strangely, I didn't feel any more guilty about her torture now than I had while watching it happen. In fact, I was fascinated by the prospect of visiting an elf village. The only elf I'd really interacted with was Bellas, and he was already conditioned to serve when we acquired him.

  "Let's just have a quick look at the village," I decided. "Talk to that mage. It could be valuable information."

  "Yes!" Aria clapped her hands together. "I've never seen a wild elf village before."

  The elf woman's hope vanished, replaced by renewed terror as she realised we were heading toward her home.

  Isabella sighed, "Fine, but we need to be quick. We still have a mission to complete in Glacius."

  * * *

  I watched as Aria stepped closer to the elf, her dagger gleaming in the strange bioluminescent light of the jungle. She pressed the flat of the blade against the woman's cheek, not hard enough to cut but with enough pressure to make her point.

  "What's your name, little elf?" Aria asked, her voice sweet as honey despite the obvious threat.

  The woman swallowed hard, her eyes darting between us. "Elowen," she finally whispered.

  "Elowen," Aria repeated, rolling the name around her tongue as if tasting it. "Pretty. Now, Elowen, you're going to lead us to your village."

  She pressed the tip of the dagger into Elowen's back, just enough to dimple the fabric of her simple dress. "And don't try anything clever. We're not exactly known for our patience."

  Elowen looked at us, her mouth opening slightly as if she wanted to say something. I could see the calculation in her eyes—weighing her options, perhaps considering a plea or warning. Whatever it was, she thought better of it. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and she lowered her head before turning and walking forward into the dense foliage.

  Isabella fell into step beside me as we followed Aria and our reluctant guide. "She's actually quite pretty," Isabella remarked, studying Elowen's slender form as she moved ahead of us. "For a mortal, I mean."

  "I know, right?" Aria agreed enthusiastically, keeping the dagger trained on Elowen's back. "With a few improvements, she could serve us alongside Bellas." She glanced back at me with a mischievous grin. "Poor thing could finally have some company. Bellas must get lonely being the only elf around."

  Isabella raised an elegant eyebrow. "You know the rules about slave hunting, Aria. The Academy has strict protocols about where and how we acquire mortals for service."

  "I know, I know," Aria sighed dramatically. "But not everyone has a princess friend who could pull some strings." She winked at me over her shoulder.

  "No," I said firmly, surprising myself with how quickly the word came out. "Absolutely not."

  The idea of turning Elowen into a pleasure slave didn't sit right with me. I wasn't sure why—I had no problem with Bellas serving us, and I'd certainly embraced many other aspects of succubus life that would have horrified my former human self. But something about capturing this woman who was just trying to survive in this strange pocket of Hell felt wrong.

  It was oddly comforting to discover there was still something left of my morality, even if it was inconsistent and selective.

  We walked for nearly twenty minutes, pushing through dense vegetation that seemed to pulse with its own internal light.

  Finally, the forest began to thin, and Elowen led us to the edge of a clearing. As the trees parted, I expected to see the kind of fantastical dwellings I'd imagined elves would build—homes woven into ancient trees or structures crafted from giant leaves and living wood.

  Instead, what spread before us was surprisingly... normal.

  A village of about two dozen structures stood in a rough circle around a central square. The buildings were made of wood and stone, with thatched roofs and smoke curling from simple chimneys. They looked like they could have been plucked from any medieval human settlement. No magic, no ethereal beauty—just practical, functional homes built by people trying to survive.

  "Please," Elowen whispered, turning to face us with trembling hands clasped before her. "My people have done nothing wrong. We're just trying to survive here. Don't hurt them—they're mostly craftspeople, gatherers, and families with children."

  Her eyes, wide with fear, darted between us. "We have little of value to offer demons such as yourselves. Just... please show mercy."

  Aria rolled her eyes and sheathed her dagger with a dramatic flourish. "Relax, little elf. Even if we wanted to have some fun with your village, we don't have enough time for that." She glanced at me and Isabella. "We've got places to be, a Second Circle to visit, a mystery to solve."

  "Indeed," Isabella said with a nod of approval. Her ice-blue eyes surveyed the village with clinical interest rather than malice. "We simply require information." She turned her attention back to Elowen. "Where does your elder live? The one with knowledge of magic you mentioned."

  Elowen hesitated, clearly weighing whether answering truthfully would endanger her leader or protect her people. After a moment, she pointed toward the centre of the village.

  I followed her gesture, expecting her to indicate the largest structure—perhaps some central meeting hall where a venerable leader would hold court. Instead, she was pointing at what appeared to be the smallest dwelling in the entire settlement: a humble cottage with a slightly crooked chimney and walls covered in climbing vines bearing small blue flowers.

  "There," she said. "Elder Thorne lives there."

  "Interesting," Isabella murmured. "One would expect the village leader to claim the most impressive dwelling."

  "Elder Thorne says possessions weigh down the spirit," Elowen explained, her voice gaining a hint of reverence. "He teaches that in this place between realms, we must remain light of heart and mind."

  I found myself curious about this Elder Thorne. A mortal with magical knowledge surviving in a pocket dimension between circles of Hell? There was definitely more to this story.

  "You can go," I told Elowen, making a decision. "Return to your family."

  Aria shot me a questioning look, but I held firm. "We don't need a hostage to speak with your elder. We just want information."

  Elowen's eyes widened in surprise. "You... you're letting me go?"

  "Unless you'd prefer to stay with us?" Aria asked with a suggestive smirk.

  "Go," Isabella said firmly, cutting off whatever Aria might have added. "But know this—if your people attempt anything against us, the consequences will be... unpleasant."

  Elowen needed no further encouragement. With a quick, awkward bow, she darted away, running toward one of the larger homes on the far side of the village.

  As we stepped from the forest's edge into the open, the effect was immediate. Elves who had been going about their daily business froze at the sight of us. A woman dropped a basket of those strange glowing fruits. A man ushered two small children behind him. Within moments, doors were slamming shut all across the village as its inhabitants retreated into their homes.

  "Well, that's a warm welcome," Aria quipped, flicking her tail in amusement.

  "They're terrified," I observed, feeling an odd pang as I watched the last few elves disappear behind closed doors and shuttered windows.

  "As they should be," Isabella replied.

  We walked through the now-deserted village centre, our footsteps the only sound besides the occasional nervous shuffle from behind closed doors. I could feel eyes watching us from windows and cracks in doorways as we made our way toward the small cottage Elowen had indicated.

  The tiny house seemed even smaller as we approached it—barely large enough for one person to live comfortably. Unlike the other dwellings, its door remained open, as if whoever lived inside had been expecting visitors.