I stood in Isabella's opulent bathroom, towelling off my hair as steam swirled around us. The black marble floors beneath my feet still held warmth from the heated water system, a luxury I'd come to appreciate in Isabella's private quarters. Unlike our Academy dormitory, her personal residence featured amenities that reminded me of her noble status—enchanted water that adjusted to the perfect temperature, towels that dried you with barely any effort, and enough space for three succubi to move comfortably after our rather energetic activities.

  "So," I said, wrapping the plush towel around my body, "Nyx cornered me in the library yesterday."

  Aria looked up from where she was examining her reflection, her purple eyes bright with interest. "Nyx Shadowveil? The one who's always carrying those massive stacks of books?"

  "That's the one," I confirmed. "She practically interrogated me about whether I'm a pureblood."

  Isabella paused in the middle of combing her silver hair, her ice-blue eyes meeting mine in the mirror. "What exactly did you tell her?"

  I leaned against the marble counter. "I denied it, of course. But that's not the interesting part. She wants to visit the Ninth Circle for research."

  Isabella's eyebrow arched elegantly. "The Ninth Circle? That's... ambitious."

  "She asked if you could help her get access," I continued, watching Isabella's reaction carefully. "Apparently, she tried asking Valentina first, which explains their argument at the Springs."

  "And now she's asking you to ask me?" Isabella's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "Interesting pivot on her part."

  Aria, now wrapped in a towel that barely contained her curves, snorted. "Why is she so desperate to visit the Ninth Circle anyway? Isn't that place supposed to be super dangerous for anyone who doesn't belong there?"

  "Research," I replied. "She's studying interdimensional physics or something like that. Had pages of equations that looked like they'd give Professor Malphas a headache."

  "Of course she is," Aria rolled her eyes dramatically. "That girl is even weirder about learning than you are, Lily. At least when you get all mathematical, it's usually for something practical."

  I couldn't help but laugh. "Thanks... I think?"

  "It was definitely a compliment," Aria insisted, dropping her towel without ceremony to begin applying scented oil to her skin. "Nyx probably wants to calculate the exact vibrational frequency of reality itself or something equally useless."

  Isabella had gone quiet, her expression thoughtful as she finished with her hair. "The Ninth Circle isn't a tourist destination," she finally said. "Even for academic purposes, access is extremely restricted. My mother might be able to arrange something, but she'd want to know why."

  "So what do you think?" I asked, meeting Isabella's gaze directly. "Should we help her?"

  Isabella tilted her head slightly, considering. "Honestly? I'm curious about her research. If her theories have merit, they could be valuable to House Lilitu. The ability to better understand and potentially manipulate interdimensional boundaries would be a significant advantage."

  "So that's a yes?" Aria asked, now sprawled comfortably across a chaise lounge, completely unconcerned with her nudity.

  "It's a 'perhaps,'" Isabella clarified. "I'll need to speak with her directly, assess her research, and determine if it's worth bringing to my mother's attention. With Glakius's death and the potential for conflict, this isn't the ideal time to be requesting favours that involve the Ninth Circle."

  I nodded, relieved that Isabella was taking the lead on this. It solved my immediate problem of how to help Nyx without revealing my own connection to the Ninth Circle.

  "She'll probably explode from excitement when I tell her you're willing to talk to her," I said, smiling at the mental image.

  "I can imagine," Aria laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Nyx would probably start floating if you told her Isabella Lilitu might help with her research."

  Isabella nodded, a small smile playing at her lips. "If anything could get Nyx excited, it would be that. The girl practically vibrates with enthusiasm when discussing anything academic."

  I stretched my arms above my head, feeling the pleasant soreness from our earlier activities. The towel slipped slightly, and I readjusted it with practiced ease. "Should we head out to the Academy for classes? Professor Scarlet won't accept 'bathing with friends' as an excuse for tardiness."

  Aria's smile widened into something decidedly predatory as her gaze travelled over my body. "Classes could wait a bit, couldn't they? Round two?"

  I sighed, gesturing at our freshly washed bodies. "We've just cleaned ourselves, Aria."

  "True," she agreed, not looking remotely discouraged. Her eyes flicked between Isabella and me, that familiar hunger evident in her expression. "But you both look so sexy right now."

  Despite the cheesiness of her words, I felt the familiar heat rise within me. My body responded instantly, a flush spreading across my skin as my succubus nature awakened to the possibility of pleasure. It still amazed me sometimes how quickly my demonic form reacted to even the suggestion of intimacy. Yeah, I was a succubus now, through and through.

  I looked over at Isabella, who pretended to be deep in contemplation, tapping one elegant finger against her chin. But I already knew the answer she would give. The slight darkening of her ice-blue eyes and the subtle shift in her posture told me everything I needed to know.

  With another dramatic sigh, I let my towel drop to the floor. "Fine. But you're responsible if we're late for classes, Aria."

  Aria just smiled, already moving toward me with purposeful grace. "We won't be."

  * * *

  We raced through the Academy's obsidian corridors, our heels clicking frantically against the polished stone. Isabella managed to maintain her dignity despite our hurried pace, while Aria bounced along beside me with the enthusiasm of someone who didn't fully grasp the consequences of tardiness.

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  "We're going to be late," I hissed, checking the ornate timepiece embedded in the wall. The crimson numbers shifted ominously, confirming my fears.

  Isabella's ice-blue eyes narrowed. "This is what happens when someone insists on 'just one more round' three separate times. We should have left when Lily and I suggested it half an hour ago."

  "Worth it," Aria replied with a singsong, not bothering to lower her voice. "You two could've refused me. Besides, what's the worst that could happen?"

  Isabella shot her a withering look. "Have you forgotten Professor Scarlet's reputation?"

  "Oh." Aria's smile faltered momentarily before returning full force. "Well, at least we'll suffer together!"

  We rounded the final corner and skidded to a halt before the imposing ebony doors of Professor Scarlet's classroom. I took a deep breath, smoothed my uniform, and pushed the door open as quietly as possible.

  It wasn't quiet enough.

  Every head in the classroom turned toward us. Professor Scarlet paused mid-sentence, her crimson eyes narrowing as she regarded us with the cold calculation of a predator assessing prey.

  "Miss Nightstar, Miss Nova, Miss Lilitu," she said, her voice deceptively soft. "How kind of you to grace us with your presence."

  "We apologise for our tardiness, Professor," Isabella replied smoothly, her aristocratic bearing never faltering.

  Professor Scarlet's perfectly manicured fingers tapped against her desk. "Take your seats. And do try not to disturb my class further. I would hate for today's lesson to be... interrupted."

  I exhaled slowly, relief washing over me. Perhaps we'd gotten lucky. Professor Scarlet was known for her creative punishments, and I'd expected something far worse than a verbal warning.

  We slipped into our seats near the back of the classroom. I pulled out my notebook, ready to focus on the lecture. As Professor Scarlet resumed speaking, I settled into my chair.

  That's when I felt it.

  A whisper of sensation across the back of my neck. So light I almost thought I'd imagined it. Then fingers—invisible yet unmistakably real—traced down my spine.

  My eyes widened as understanding dawned. I glanced sideways at Aria, whose sudden stillness told me she was experiencing something similar. Isabella sat rigidly in her seat, her normally perfect posture now tense with effort.

  The phantom touch continued, exploring with deliberate slowness. Invisible hands caressed my shoulders, then moved lower, brushing against sensitive areas with increasing boldness. I bit my lip, fighting to maintain my composure as the sensations intensified.

  Now I understood why certain students sometimes squirmed uncomfortably during Professor Scarlet's lectures. This was her preferred method of discipline—invisible, impossible to prove, and devastatingly effective, especially for succubi whose bodies were designed to respond to pleasure.

  I remembered with sudden clarity the unfortunate student who had interrupted Professor Scarlet on our first day. She'd been transformed into living furniture for the professor's use during an entire week of classes. At the time, I'd assumed the punishment was merely physical discomfort and humiliation. Now I suspected there had been an additional sensory component that explained the girl's flushed cheeks and occasional trembling.

  If this had happened during my first month at the Academy, when I was still adjusting to Lily's body and fighting against my succubus nature, I might have broken down at what was essentially magical molestation. But now, I recognised it as just another form of discipline, one that was specifically tailored to its recipients.

  The invisible touch grew more insistent, fingers tracing patterns that made concentration nearly impossible. I gripped my pen tightly, forcing myself to focus on Professor Scarlet's words rather than the sensations threatening to overwhelm me. Beside me, Aria shifted slightly in her seat, her normally expressive face locked in careful neutrality.

  Professor Scarlet's gaze swept over us, a slight smile playing at her lips as she began her lecture on the First and Second Circles of Hell, her voice never betraying that three of her students were currently experiencing her unique form of punishment.

  "Given recent events," she began, "today we will be discussing the historical relationship between the First and Second Circles..."

  The phantom hands continued their exploration, gentle enough to build slowly but persistent enough to be impossible to ignore. I knew we'd have to endure this for the entire class period without making a sound, or risk escalating our punishment to something far worse.

  * * *

  Professor Scarlet turned to the large map of Hell displayed on the classroom wall, her riding crop pointing to the crystalline ceiling of the First Circle.

  "Today's lecture will focus on the historical relationship between Igneus and Glacius, particularly in light of recent events," she announced, her voice carrying a subtle edge that made me shiver—or perhaps that was the phantom fingers now tracing my collarbone.

  I shifted slightly in my seat, trying to ignore the invisible touch as it drifted lower. The sensation was maddening—real enough to elicit a physical response but impossible to push away. Beside me, Aria's breathing had become slightly irregular, while Isabella maintained her composure with visible effort, her knuckles white as she gripped her pen.

  "The Great Convergence War," Professor Scarlet continued, "began in 1816 of the Infernal Calendar, or 5732 by the Abyssal Reckoning, when House Chenoo accused Madana of violating territorial agreements regarding soul collection."

  The invisible hands moved to my thighs, caressing with deliberate slowness. I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to focus on Professor Scarlet's words rather than the building heat in my core.

  "Miss Nova," Professor Scarlet called suddenly, her eyes fixing on Aria. "What was the primary catalyst for hostilities between the First and Second Circles?"

  Aria straightened, and I saw her eyes widen momentarily as the phantom touch undoubtedly intensified. "The—the dispute over soul harvesting rights in the mortal realm," she managed, her voice admirably steady despite the flush spreading across her cheeks.

  "Correct," Professor Scarlet nodded, turning back to the map. "The conflict escalated when Lord Frostbane of Glacius launched a direct assault on the Southern Lava Lakes."

  I frantically took notes, using the mechanical action of writing to distract myself from the invisible fingers now tracing patterns across my inner thighs. The sensation was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

  "Miss Nightstar," Professor Scarlet called, her eyes meeting mine with knowing precision. "What unique phenomenon occurred during the height of the conflict in 1817?"

  The phantom hands immediately intensified their exploration, and I felt invisible fingers slip beneath my uniform, caressing with devastating accuracy. I gripped the edge of my desk, struggling to form coherent thoughts.

  "The—the barriers between circles began to collapse," I answered, fighting to keep my voice even. "The metaphysical boundaries weakened to the point where Igneus and Glacius began to merge physically."

  "Elaborate," Professor Scarlet commanded, her eyes never leaving mine.

  The invisible touch grew bolder, more insistent. I could feel sweat beading on my forehead as I continued, "This weakening allowed thousands of souls to escape Hell entirely, fleeing into various mortal realms."

  "Excellent," she replied, finally releasing me from her gaze. The phantom touch receded slightly, though it didn't disappear entirely.

  As Professor Scarlet detailed the diplomatic crisis that followed, I noticed Isabella's perfectly maintained posture beginning to falter. When called upon to explain the heavenly response to the soul exodus, her voice contained the barest tremor—the only indication of what she must be experiencing.

  "The Celestial Authorities threatened direct intervention," Isabella stated, her aristocratic composure cracking just slightly. "Only the personal involvement of the King and Queen of Hell prevented an angelic incursion."

  Throughout the remainder of the lecture, Professor Scarlet connected historical events to current tensions, explaining how Glakius Chenoo's death could potentially unravel the treaty that had maintained peace since 1818 I.C. Each time she called on one of us, the invisible stimulation would intensify to nearly unbearable levels before retreating just short of release.

  By the end of class, I found myself in a state of heightened awareness. Despite—or perhaps because of—the constant stimulation, I absorbed every detail of the lecture with remarkable clarity. Professor Malphas's theory about succubi learning more effectively when aroused seemed to have some merit, though I'd never admit it to him.

  When the bell finally rang, Professor Scarlet dismissed the class with a wave of her hand. As other students filed out, she beckoned us forward.

  "Ladies," she said, her voice deceptively soft. "I trust today's lesson was... enlightening."

  The phantom touches vanished completely, leaving behind a frustrating emptiness.

  "Let this serve as a warning. Next time you disrupt my class, I will not be so forgiving. You may go."

  We exited in silence, none of us daring to speak until we were well beyond her classroom door.