I stood outside the doors to the Academy's private gardens, taking a deep breath to centre myself. The magical tracker Isabella had given me hung on a delicate chain around my neck, tucked beneath my crimson blouse. In my pocket, I could feel the small vial of defensive potion Aria had insisted I carry.

  "You're being ridiculous," I muttered to myself. "She's just a spoiled brat with an attitude problem."

  Still, I couldn't deny the subtle tension in my shoulders. Not fear exactly, but a wariness born from experience. Valentina Morgenstern was unpredictable at best, vindictive at worst.

  I pushed open the ornate black iron gates and stepped into the garden. Unlike the human gardens I remembered from my life as Liam, these were filled with plants that would never grow on Earth. Luminous flowers that pulsed with inner light lined the walkways, while trees with bark like polished obsidian stretched toward the crimson sky. The scent was intoxicating, a mixture of sweetness and something darker, more primal.

  Following the sound of laughter, I made my way deeper into the garden. Around a corner, past a fountain where liquid fire danced in impossible patterns, I spotted them.

  Valentina sat on an obsidian bench, surrounded by her usual entourage. Three lesser succubi hung on her every word, their expressions a mixture of admiration and fear. Two incubi stood nearby, clearly hoping to catch her attention. The scene was so predictable it was almost sad.

  "And then," Valentina was saying, her platinum blonde hair shimmering in the hellfire light, "I told the Headmistress that those three were obviously behind it. Who else would dare attack me?"

  Her sycophants nodded eagerly, murmuring their agreement.

  I paused, watching the performance. There was something almost desperate in the way Valentina commanded attention, as if she needed their validation to exist.

  My thoughts drifted to my parents—Lilith and Lucifer. It still felt strange to think of them that way, but over these past five months, they'd become exactly that to me. Real parents. Something I'd never had as Liam, growing up in that cold orphanage on Earth.

  Maybe that was another sign that I truly was Lily Morningstar all along. The ease with which I'd slipped into the role of daughter, the natural way I responded to their affection. As Liam, I'd always felt like something was missing, some connection I couldn't quite make with the world around me.

  Here, despite all the challenges, I felt... right.

  I shook my head, refocusing on the task at hand. Philosophical musings about my identity would have to wait. Right now, I needed to deal with Valentina and her rumour-mongering before it attracted the wrong kind of attention.

  As I stepped forward, one of the incubi noticed me and nudged Valentina. She turned, her crimson eyes widening slightly before narrowing into slits.

  "Well, well," she said, her voice carrying across the garden. "Look who's decided to grace us with her presence. Come to confess your crimes, Nightstar?"

  Her followers tittered, but I caught something in Valentina's expression that gave me pause. Behind the hostility, there was something else. A shadow lurking beneath her bravado.

  I straightened my shoulders and walked toward the group, maintaining eye contact with Valentina. Her followers parted before me, uncertain how to react without their leader's cue.

  "We need to talk, Valentina," I said, keeping my voice level. "Alone."

  She laughed, the sound sharp and brittle. "Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of my friends."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that? I thought we might discuss what really happened the night you were petrified. Unless you'd prefer everyone to hear all the details?"

  A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face, so brief I almost missed it. Then she waved a dismissive hand at her entourage.

  "Leave us," she commanded.

  They hesitated, looking between us with undisguised curiosity.

  "Now!" Valentina snapped, and they scattered like startled birds.

  I could hear their laughter echoing down the corridor as they departed, no doubt already speculating about what was about to happen between Valentina and me.

  * * *

  I watched as the last of Valentina's entourage disappeared around the corner, their whispers fading into the ambient sounds of the garden. When we were finally alone, Valentina turned to me, her crimson eyes narrowed.

  "So," she said, crossing her arms over her chest, "have you come to confess and beg for forgiveness?"

  I couldn't help but laugh. "As if. I'm here to tell you to stop spreading false accusations about me and my friends."

  Valentina's lips curled into a smirk. "Oh? Are you afraid it will tarnish your non-existent reputation, Nightstar? Or should I say, nobody?"

  "My reputation is just fine," I replied, keeping my voice steady despite the irritation building inside me. "Unlike yours, which seems to rely entirely on how many lies you can spread in a day."

  She took a step closer, her platinum hair catching the light. "At least I have a lineage worth mentioning. You're nothing but a merchant's daughter playing at being important."

  "And you're nothing but a has-been noble from a fallen house," I shot back, remembering what Isabella had told me about House Morgenstern's diminished status. "Desperately clinging to whatever scraps of prestige you can find."

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  Her face flushed with anger. "How dare you! House Morgenstern has stood for centuries—"

  "As a shadow of what it once was," I interrupted. "Everyone knows it. That's why you're so desperate to surround yourself with followers. You need their adoration because deep down, you know you're nothing special."

  Valentina's eyes widened, and I could see I'd struck a nerve. "You know nothing about me or my house!"

  "I know enough," I said, stepping closer until we were barely a foot apart. "I know you're a bully who picks on others to feel better about yourself. I know you attacked Bellas because you couldn't get to me directly."

  "That filthy slave?" she scoffed, a flicker of confusion crossing her face before her usual sneer returned. "He's property. He's nothing."

  Something snapped inside me. The possessive instinct that had been growing stronger over the past months flared hot and dangerous. "He's MINE," I growled, my voice dropping to a register I barely recognised.

  Before I knew what I was doing, I had Valentina pinned against the obsidian tree behind her, my hand at her throat. Not choking, but firmly holding her in place. My other hand gripped her wrist, preventing her from reaching for any hidden weapons.

  "Listen to me very carefully," I said, my voice deadly quiet. "You will stop spreading lies about me and my friends. You will never touch what belongs to me again. And if I hear one more word about us being responsible for your petrification, I will make you regret it in ways your limited imagination cannot begin to comprehend."

  Something strange happened then. Valentina's expression shifted. The fear I expected was there, yes, but mixed with something else entirely. Her pupils dilated, and her breathing quickened in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

  "Do you understand me?" I demanded.

  She swallowed hard, her throat moving against my palm. "Yes," she whispered, her voice husky.

  I released her and stepped back, suddenly aware of how close we'd been. Valentina remained against the tree, making no move to straighten her clothing or recover her composure. Her cheeks were flushed, and there was an unmistakable scent in the air that my succubus senses picked up immediately.

  Arousal.

  What the fuck?

  I stared at her, momentarily speechless. Had my threat... turned her on? The realisation was so unexpected that I didn't know how to respond.

  Valentina finally pushed herself away from the tree, smoothing down her dress with trembling hands. The hostility in her eyes had transformed into something far more complicated.

  "I'll stop the rumours," she said, her voice still carrying that husky quality.

  "Good," I said, taking another step back to put more distance between us. "Remember what we talked about, Valentina. I won't be so diplomatic next time."

  I turned away, not wanting to spend another moment in her presence. Something about her reaction had thrown me completely off balance. I'd expected rage, perhaps even tears—not... whatever that was.

  As I walked along the garden path, I passed a group of Valentina's sycophants rushing back toward her. They'd clearly been waiting just out of earshot, eager to return to their queen bee. A few gave me suspicious glances, but most hurried past without acknowledgment.

  "It was nothing," I heard Valentina say as her entourage surrounded her. "Just Nightstar being dramatic as usual."

  Her voice carried through the garden, but it lacked the venom I'd grown accustomed to hearing. There was a restraint there that hadn't existed before. No wild accusations, no threats of retribution—just a dismissive comment that seemed designed to save face rather than escalate the conflict.

  I continued walking, letting the garden's obsidian archway pass over me as I exited into the main courtyard. The weight of Isabella's tracking charm felt heavy in my pocket, the defensive potion Aria had given me still unopened. I hadn't needed either.

  What I couldn't shake was the image of Valentina's face when I'd pinned her against that tree. The dilated pupils, the quickened breath, the unmistakable scent of arousal. It wasn't fear that had made her agree to my demands—it was something else entirely.

  Was Valentina a masochist? The thought was so unexpected I almost laughed out loud. The haughty pureblood who lorded her status over everyone... secretly craved submission?

  I shook my head, trying to clear the thought. It wasn't my problem, and I certainly had no interest in exploring whatever complicated desires lurked beneath Valentina's aristocratic facade. I'd gotten what I came for—her agreement to stop the rumours. That was enough.

  Still, as I made my way back toward the Academy's main building, I couldn't help wondering what other secrets she might be hiding.

  * * *

  I returned to the dorm with my mind still spinning from the confrontation with Valentina. Her unexpected reaction had thrown me completely off balance. When I opened the door, Aria and Isabella were already waiting, perched on my bed with expectant expressions.

  "Well?" Aria bounced slightly. "Did you tear her apart? Please tell me you tore her apart."

  I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, considering how much to share. The full truth would only complicate matters. Aria would never let it go if she knew about Valentina's... reaction.

  "I convinced her to stop spreading rumours about us," I said, keeping my voice casual. "We had a conversation, and she agreed it wasn't in her best interest to continue."

  Isabella raised one perfect silver eyebrow. "You... convinced her? Valentina Morgenstern?"

  "Just like that?" Aria added, looking utterly unconvinced.

  I shrugged. "I can be persuasive when I need to be."

  "Bullshit," Aria declared, crossing her arms. "What did you do? Threaten her? Blackmail her? Ooh, did you find out some juicy secret?"

  "Nothing that dramatic," I lied. "I just made it clear that continuing to spread lies would have consequences she wouldn't enjoy."

  Isabella studied my face with those piercing ice-blue eyes of hers. "And she just... accepted that? The same Valentina who's been making our lives difficult since day one?"

  "Maybe she's finally developing some sense of self-preservation," I suggested, moving away from the door to sit at my desk. "Either way, she agreed to stop, which is what matters."

  Aria flopped back on my bed dramatically. "I can't believe it. Our Lily, negotiating with the enemy and winning." She sat up suddenly, eyes wide. "You should be our official negotiator from now on!"

  I laughed. "What?"

  "She's not wrong," Isabella said, a small smile playing at her lips. "You clearly have a talent for it if you managed to get through to Valentina."

  "Great," I said dryly. "Add it to my resume: 'Succubus and diplomatic envoy to the insufferable.'"

  We shared a laugh, and I was relieved when the conversation seemed to move on. But then Isabella's expression grew serious.

  "Speaking of serious matters," she said, straightening her posture, "we need to discuss the dagger that was thrown at me."

  My humour faded immediately. "Did you learn something?"

  Isabella nodded. "I did some digging. Surprisingly, Nyx helped me."

  "We were waiting for you to get back before telling you what we found," Aria added, suddenly all business.

  "Nyx helped?" I asked, surprised. The bookish succubus didn't strike me as someone who'd get involved in investigating assassination attempts.

  "She has an impressive knowledge of metallurgy and magical artefacts," Isabella explained. "And apparently, she's been researching various weapons for a paper she's writing."

  "Of course she has," I muttered. That sounded exactly like Nyx.

  "The important thing is," Isabella continued, "we know where the dagger was forged."

  I leaned forward. "Where?"

  "A smithy in the Second Circle," Aria said. "Apparently it has a very distinctive style—something about the way the obsidian is fused with the metal."

  "So what does this mean?" I asked, looking between them. "Are we going to try to find whoever forged it? I thought the Headmistress confiscated the dagger."

  "She did," Isabella confirmed. "But we don't need the actual dagger anymore. We have enough information to track down its source."

  "So we're going to the Second Circle?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

  Isabella's lips curved into a smile that was both elegant and dangerous. "Indeed we are."