The cobblestones clicked beneath my feet as I walked beside Lilith through the medieval town's narrow streets. Our glamours portrayed us as common folk - my usual white hair now a simple blonde, my red eyes turned blue. Lilith had chosen the appearance of a mature woman, her midnight hair streaked with distinguished grey.

My thoughts drifted to the past week. The intense Divine Magic training sessions with Lucifer in his study, creating those small sparks of light. Then these nightly excursions with Lilith, hunting in different realms and settings. Each night brought new experiences.

"You seem lost in thought, dear." Lilith's voice cut through my reverie.

"Just reflecting," I said, adjusting my plain wool dress. "This week has been... different. Training with father during the day, then these trips with you to help me 'unwind' as you put it."

I couldn't tell her how confused I felt about my growing attachment to them both. How natural it felt when Lucifer praised my magical progress, or when Lilith shared her seduction techniques. The warmth that spread through me whenever they showed pride or affection. These feelings scared me - they weren't supposed to be my real parents.

"Divine Magic wasn't exactly what I expected," I said instead, picking a safer topic.

Lilith raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I thought it would feel more... holy, I suppose. But it's not about being pure or righteous at all. It's about conviction." I gestured with my hands, trying to explain. "Father showed me how demons can use it through fear, but that's not the only way. What matters is believing in something strongly enough to make reality accept your version of truth."

The sun dipped behind the town's weathered buildings, casting long shadows across the cobblestones. Lilith guided me down a narrow alleyway between two timber-framed houses, their upper stories nearly touching overhead.

"There's one more place I'd like to show you," she said. "A dear friend of mine runs it. I think you'll find it educational."

I nodded, continuing my earlier train of thought about Divine Magic. "What fascinates me is how faith itself becomes a tool. It's not about-"

A loud crash interrupted me as a wooden door burst open halfway down the alley. A burly man stumbled out backwards, clearly drunk, and collapsed against the opposite wall. The sharp smell of cheap ale wafted from the open doorway.

"And stay out!" A gruff voice bellowed from inside the tavern. The door slammed shut with enough force to rattle the hinges.

The drunk slumped down, muttering incoherently, his glazed eyes struggling to focus on us as we approached. His threadbare clothes reeked of spilled alcohol and sweat.

The drunk man lurched forward, his filthy hands grabbing my arm. His ale-soaked breath hit my face as he slurred, "Pretty ladies shouldn't walk alone at night." He yanked me closer, his grimy fingers digging into my skin.

Before I could react, the air around us shifted. Mother's glamour vanished in a flash of crimson energy. Her perfect features twisted into a snarl, revealing sharp teeth and glowing red eyes. She seized the man's throat in one fluid motion, lifting him off the ground.

"How dare you touch my daughter, you worthless piece of filth?" Her voice carried an otherworldly resonance that made my skin prickle. The drunk's eyes widened in terror as he dangled helplessly.

Mother's free hand shot up to cover his mouth, muffling his attempted scream. I watched in fascination as her perfectly manicured nails elongated into wicked black claws. They pressed against his skin, drawing tiny beads of blood.

I stared at my own hand, wondering. Could I do that too? I focused on my nails, imagining them transforming. A tingling sensation spread through my fingertips, and I gasped as my glamour faded, nails turning into sharp points, just like mother's.

I had to force myself to look away from my newly transformed claws as a muffled scream drew my attention back to the drunk. Mother's eyes gleamed with dark promise as she pressed him against the wall.

"Let me teach you some manners," she purred. The man thrashed against her iron grip, his screams trapped behind her palm.

What happened next burned itself into my memory forever. Mother's free hand moved with surgical precision as she peeled away the first layer of his skin. Starting at his chest, she slowly separated flesh from muscle, leaving raw tissue exposed to the air. The man's eyes bulged, tears streaming down his face.

She worked methodically downward, stripping away skin in long ribbons. Each new strip joined the growing pile at her feet. His chest heaved with silent screams as she moved to his arms, then legs, leaving him completely flayed but somehow still conscious. Mother's magic kept him from passing out, forced him to experience every moment.

Next came the muscles. She separated each one individually, pulling them away from bone with delicate care. The precision of her movements reminded me of someone carefully deboning a fish. Except this fish was alive, twitching with each new violation. When blood loss threatened to end his torment too quickly, she cauterized broken vessels them with a touch, ensuring his suffering continued.

Layer by layer, she dismantled him. Organs came next - liver, kidneys, intestines - all carefully extracted and arranged before him like a twisted anatomy lesson. His heart still beat frantically in his exposed chest cavity while lungs struggled to draw breath. Through it all, mother's magic kept him painfully aware.

By the end, blood and gore painted the alley walls. Only mother and I remained pristine, untouched by the carnage. The man's voice had given out long ago, his screams reduced to pitiful whimpers.

What remained barely resembled a human being. A trembling mass of tissue, organs and exposed bone lay atop what was once his skin. Every nerve ending still connected, still sending waves of agony through what remained of his body. Each involuntary muscle spasm triggered fresh waves of pain, drawing forth weak sounds of suffering.

But as I watched this display of cruelty, I felt no revulsion. No horror at what mother had done. Instead, I found myself studying her technique with academic interest, noting the precision of each cut, the careful preservation of vital systems.

A laugh bubbled up in my throat as I realized the cosmic irony - of all the women in this town, this drunk had chosen to accost a succubus princess in front of her mother. The sound of my own amusement startled me.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"Something amusing, dear?" Mother's voice shifted from demonic rage to warm affection so quickly it made me jump. Her perfect features showed no trace of the murderous creature from moments ago. Blood dripped down the wall behind her while she smiled at me with genuine warmth.

"I... just..." My voice caught as I tried to form words. "The irony of his bad luck. Of all the women in this town, he had to grab me. In front you, no less."

I stared at the twitching mass of meat and bone that used to be human. What disturbed me wasn't the gore or suffering - it was my complete lack of reaction to it. I searched my feelings, trying to find even a hint of disgust or horror. Nothing. The scene before me might as well have been a spilled drink for all it affected me.

Mother's expression softened further as she misread my troubled look. "Oh darling, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have stolen your chance to punish this worthless creature yourself." She glanced at the remains with disdain. "When I saw him touch you, I just... well, maternal instincts can be quite powerful."

Her words snapped me from my introspection. "No, no, I didn't mind at all," I stammered. The admission slipped from my lips with startling honesty, though not for the reason she imagined.

If Lilith weren't there, I probably would have just overpowered him and walked away. The thought of such elaborate torture wouldn't even cross my mind.

Yet as I watched mother casually wipe blood from her hands with a conjured handkerchief, warmth bloomed in my chest. She had responded with such overwhelming fury at someone daring to touch me. Her protection was excessive, certainly - but knowing she cared enough to literally tear someone apart on my behalf filled me with an unexpected sense of security.

"We should hurry," Mother said, adjusting her glamour back into place. "We’re already running late."

I followed her lead, watching my claws retract and skin shift back to a more human appearance.

We walked down the narrow streets, leaving the alley behind. My feet carried me forward while my mind processed what had just happened.

A peculiar sensation washed over me, like stepping through a curtain of water. I turned back, expecting to see the blood-soaked alleyway - but there was nothing. The passage we'd just left had vanished completely, replaced by an ordinary stone wall.

"Don't worry about that," Mother said, noting my curiosity. "Just a simple spell to keep our little performance private. It would have been terribly inconvenient if someone had interrupted." She smoothed down her dress with delicate fingers. "The barrier should keep that filth hidden for a while longer."

"That's rather convenient," I said, falling into step beside her. The ease with which we resumed our previous demeanour surprised me.

Mother linked her arm through mine as we walked. "Now, about what you said..."

Mother led me through winding streets until we reached an opulent three-story building with red-tinted windows. Golden light spilled from within, casting warm patterns across the cobblestones. Soft music and laughter drifted through the ornate double doors.

"Here we are," Mother said, guiding me inside.

The interior struck me with its lavish décor - plush velvet furnishings, gilded mirrors, and crystal chandeliers casting a warm glow across everything. The air carried hints of exotic perfumes and incense.

A statuesque woman with curves that would make most succubi envious emerged from behind a beaded curtain. Her white hair cascaded past her waist in gentle waves, and her face bore a striking resemblance to mother's.

"Lilith!" She rushed forward, enveloping mother in an enthusiastic embrace. When she pulled back, her crimson eyes fixed on me with keen interest.

"My, my... little Lily has grown into quite the refined young lady." She smiled warmly. "Such a change from the tiny thing who used to chase imps through my halls."

I froze, caught off guard by her words. This woman knew me - or rather, knew Lily - from childhood? I'd only inhabited this body since waking up at the palace, so I couldn't have known her.

"You probably don't remember your Aunt Naamah," the woman said, misreading my confusion. "You were only five the last time I saw you."

My eyes darted to mother, seeking explanation or guidance. Aunt? Lilith had never mentioned having a sister. The revelation sent my thoughts spinning - there was so much about this body's past, about Lily's life, that I still didn't understand.

"I... I'm afraid I don't recall much," I managed to say, trying to maintain composure while processing this new information.

Naamah waved her hand dismissively. "It's to be expected, dear. You were so young then." Her eyes softened with sympathy. "I'm just glad you're better now. I heard about that nasty coma."

I kept my expression neutral, though my stomach churned. Every mention of Lily's past felt like peering into someone else's diary.

Naamah turned to mother, her demeanour shifting slightly. "Speaking of which, what brings you to my humble establishment, sister?" She raised an elegant eyebrow. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me entirely."

A flash of guilt crossed mother's face. "Naamah-"

"Four hundred years, Lilith." Naamah's voice carried a sharp edge beneath its silky surface. "Four hundred years without so much as a letter."

The tension in the room thickened. I shifted uncomfortably, feeling like an intruder in this family drama. The weight of centuries-old relationships and grudges pressed down on me, making me acutely aware of how little I understood about the complex web of relationships I'd awakened into.

Mother's face remained composed, but I noticed her fingers twitch - a rare display of discomfort. The gesture seemed so ordinary, so unlike her usual perfect control, that it caught me off guard.

I watched the exchange between mother and her sister with growing fascination. The tension in mother's shoulders melted as Naamah's expression softened.

"How many times must I tell you, sister? I'm grateful for what you did." Naamah crossed the room, her heels clicking against the polished floor. "Without you, I'd have died centuries ago, wrinkled and grey."

Mother's perfect composure cracked. "I failed you, Naamah. The transformation was meant to make you like me-"

"Like you?" Naamah laughed, the sound rich and musical. "So, what if I didn't turn out exactly as planned? So, what if I lost some memories?" She spread her arms wide, gesturing at the opulent surroundings. "Look what you created instead - an entire race of succubi. Stop punishing yourself and avoiding me. We're family, whether I remember every detail of my mortal life or not."

My breath caught. Mortal life? Lilith had been human? The revelation struck me like a physical blow. All this time, I'd assumed she'd always been... well, whatever she was now.

"Besides," Naamah's eyes sparkled with mischief, "I remember enough about our human days to keep things interesting. You were quite the terror back then."

Mother's eyes widened. "Naamah-"

"Remember when you gave legs to all the furniture belonging to that pompous village elder?" Naamah's grin widened. "The whole town was in an uproar for weeks."

"He deserved it," mother grumbled, but I caught the ghost of a smile playing at her lips. "The way he treated people was inexcusable."

I tried to picture Lilith as a human, causing chaos with animated furniture. The image seemed impossible to reconcile with her current regal bearing. Yet something about it felt right - that spark of rebellion still lived in her eyes.

Naamah settled onto a plush velvet couch, patting the space beside her. "Now, sister dear, tell me what really brought you here. I know you well enough to know you'd have happily avoided me for another century or two without good reason."

Mother sat with fluid grace, pulling me down beside her. "Can't I simply wish to reconnect with my sister?"

"Please," Naamah rolled her eyes. "You're many things, Lilith, but spontaneously sentimental isn't one of them."

Mother shifted slightly, her perfect posture relaxing just a fraction. "I was hoping you might teach Lily a few tricks. Your expertise with certain... specialized talents could benefit her education."

"Oh sister," Aunt Naamah's lips curved into a knowing smile. "You never were good at lying to me. What's the real reason?"

Mother's shoulders dropped in defeat. "Fine, you're right. There is one more thing." She glanced at me before continuing. "I'm concerned about Lily. The curse that caused her coma... I want to be certain there are no lingering effects. She has no memories from before she awakened."

My heart hammered against my ribs. This was dangerous territory.

"No memories whatsoever?" Naamah raised an elegant eyebrow.

"Indeed, besides you always were more skilled at detecting subtle magical influences than I am."

Naamah turned to me, her crimson eyes suddenly intense. "Well then, let's have a look, shall we?"

An ethereal eye flickered to life on her forehead, casting an eerie blue glow across her face. I fought the urge to squirm as her supernatural gaze pierced through me.

Her expression shifted from curiosity to shock. The blood drained from her face.

"By the depths..." she whispered. "Lilith, this isn't-"