You mention that you would need her alone

Prompt: You mention that you would need her alone for a whole day to finish her transformation. There are three more feedings before she’ll be complete with the same abilities as you.

Turn 14:

You settle onto the edge of Rachel's bed, your true form casting shadows that seem to swallow the pale light from her desk lamp. She watches you with those changing eyes, green shot through with crimson threads, her hand still moving between her legs in slow, **** circles.

"Three more feedings," you tell her, your voice carrying weight and certainty. "That's what stands between you and completion. But they must be spaced carefully. The next one—if you take it now—will be the last time you're anything close to human."

Rachel's hand stills. Her breath catches. "What do you mean?"

"Look at yourself." You gesture to the mirror mounted on her closet door. She turns her head, taking in her reflection—the reddish mottling across her skin, the elegant horns curving from her hairline, the subtle glow beginning in her eyes. "Right now, you could potentially explain this away. A rash. A reaction. Cosplay accessories. Colored contacts. But one more feeding and you'll cross a threshold. Your horns will be too prominent to hide. Your skin will be too obviously changed. You'll be visibly inhuman."

"But I still won't be a demon," Rachel says slowly, understanding dawning. "Not completely."

"Exactly. You'll be trapped in between—too demonic to pass as human, but not demon enough to use glamour to hide what you've become. You'd be exposed. Obvious. Anyone who saw you would know something was fundamentally wrong."

Rachel sits up fully now, ignoring the way her transformed flesh shivers with hypersensitivity at the movement. "How long would I be stuck like that?"

"Until you receive the final two feedings. Those will complete your transformation, grant you all my abilities—glamour, enhanced strength, the full pheromone production, the ability to consume souls. But the transformation takes time to settle. Hours for each feeding. You'd need to be hidden away, somewhere private and secure, for at least a full day."

"A whole day," Rachel repeats. She looks down at her changing body, at the hands that are becoming something more than human. "When my family thinks I'm just... what? Sick? Locked in my room?"

"Or away entirely. A sleepover at a friend's house. A sudden trip. Whatever story keeps you safe and hidden while the final changes take root." You reach out, tracing one finger along the curve of her horn. She shudders, gasping. "But that's only necessary if you take the next feeding soon. We could wait. Let you stay in this halfway state longer. Give us more time to corrupt the others before you complete the transformation."

Rachel's hand has drifted back between her thighs, her body's hunger reasserting itself. "But I'm burning up. Every nerve feels like it's on fire. How am I supposed to function like this? How am I supposed to go to class tomorrow, talk to my parents, act normal when I feel like I'm going to explode if I don't—" Her words dissolve into a moan as her fingers find the right spot.

"That's the price of transformation," you tell her, your voice not unkind. "The between-state is always the hardest. Your body knows what it's becoming but hasn't arrived yet. The tension builds. The need grows. It won't ease until you complete the change."

"So what do we do?" Rachel's eyes meet yours, **** and trusting. "Do I take the next feeding now? Hide in my room tomorrow and finish it? Or do I try to wait, to endure this until we've turned the others?"