The devil's visit

The night air whipped into Cora's skin as she clenched Damien's hand even though her bones trembled from the cold .

"Close your eyes and think about where you stay," he murmured, his breath a whisper of warmth against her ear.

Cora hesitated, her pulse skipping a beat at his proximity. She was reluctant to obey, but the weight of his voice left little room for defiance. Swallowing, she did as he asked.

When she opened her eyes again, her breath caught in her throat. They were no longer in that dark alley.

Her small house stood before them, its white paint now slightly weathered, its windows glowing softly from the light inside. A rush of emotions hit her—a mix of nostalgia and apprehension. The neighborhood was just as she remembered: narrow streets, houses standing too close together, and the prying eyes of neighbors who never seemed to mind their own business.

She could already see a few figures peering through their curtains, while others strolled past with forced indifference.

"What exactly are we going to tell my mother?" Cora whispered, her heart racing. "I'm supposed to be in school, not magically appearing on the doorstep out of nowhere."

Damien's lips curled in a smirk, the type that sent shivers down her spine for all the wrong reasons. "Easy. We'll tell her we were nearby and decided to pay a visit. Simple, isn't it?"

Simple? That was possibly the worst excuse she'd ever heard.

Before she could protest, he sauntered up to the door and pressed the doorbell with the kind of authority that made it seem like he owned the place.

It took a few moments, but soon, the door creaked open.

A woman in her late thirties appeared, her blonde hair swept up into a messy bun, exhaustion evident in her pale blue eyes. She looked Damien up and down with immediate suspicion, her lips pursing.

"Is there something you needed, Mister?" she asked stiffly, not bothering to hide her wariness.

Damien merely stepped to the side, revealing Cora.

The moment Evelyn's gaze landed on her daughter, her breath hitched. "Cora?"

"Good evening, Mother," Cora greeted softly, the warmth in her voice barely masking her nervousness.

Evelyn gasped, reaching for her daughter, her fingers trembling as they closed around Cora's wrist. "What happened? Are you alright? Come inside—the weather is freezing!"

Cora allowed herself to be pulled inside, but she couldn't ignore the weight of Damien's gaze pressing against her back. His presence alone felt like an intrusion, like he was violating the sanctity of her home just by standing there.

As they stepped inside, Evelyn barely spared Damien another glance before rushing to the kitchen. "Let me get you both something to drink."

Cora exhaled slowly, her fingers curling into her sleeves. Was this the right thing to do? Lying to her mother, her only family?

When Evelyn returned, she handed a glass of water to each of them. But her eyes never left Damien as she took a cautious sip of her own. "Why are you here all of a sudden, Cora? You weren't supposed to be home until next week. And who is this?"

Before Cora could think of a reply, Damien beat her to it.

"Cora is my girlfriend," he announced smoothly, his voice thick with amusement. "And since we were in the neighborhood, I thought it was only proper to visit my future mother-in-law." He tilted his head, his smirk deepening. "Though, I must say, I don't see much resemblance between you two."

Evelyn's jaw slackened in disbelief, while Cora nearly choked on air.

"What—?!" Evelyn sputtered, her grip tightening around her glass. "You're her what?"

Damien, unbothered, leaned against the back of the couch, watching Evelyn's reaction with mild amusement. "Boyfriend. Cora didn't tell you?"

Cora shot him a withering glare, resisting the urge to elbow him in the ribs.

"Absolutely not," Evelyn snapped, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "You're lying. And even if you weren't, I wouldn't allow it. Cora, break up with him immediately. He doesn't deserve to be your boyfriend."

Cora swallowed, unsure whether to feel relieved or humiliated. But she wasn't about to argue. "Don't worry, Mother. I'll break up with him."

Damien's smirk vanished. His sharp gaze flickered to her, with narrowed eyes.

Cora, eager to shift the conversation, glanced at the apron tied around her mother's waist. "Were you cooking something earlier?"

Evelyn hesitated before nodding. "I was baking biscuits. The shop ran out, so I made some at home. I'll pack some for you before you leave."

"Who said we're leaving?" Damien cut in smoothly.

Evelyn stiffened. "Excuse me?"

Damien's grin returned, slow and almost taunting. "We'll be spending the night here, mother-in-law." He stressed the title, delighting in Evelyn's visible discomfort.

Cora's stomach flipped. What?!

Evelyn's face drained of color. "Absolutely not."

"Why so dramatic? It's not a sin." Damien stretched, his movements lazy. "Don't worry, I'll sleep on the couch."

Evelyn inhaled sharply, barely containing her frustration. Turning to Cora, she grasped her daughter's hand. "You can't stay, Cora. If the school finds out—"

"They won't," Damien cut her off with infuriating ease. "The dean is already aware we left."

He lied with a straight face .

Evelyn's eyes darted to Cora, who reluctantly nodded. It wasn't like she could contradict him now.

Evelyn muttered something under her breath before rubbing her temples. "Fine. I'll go prepare the rooms."

As she disappeared upstairs, Cora turned to Damien, hissing under her breath, "What the hell was that? We were supposed to return! I don't want to serve detention!"

Damien leaned in, close enough that she could see the wicked amusement glinting in his dark eyes. "Trust me, pajarito. If I wanted you to serve detention, I would've let you get caught." His voice was a husky whisper. "But unnecessary attention isn't in our best interest right now."

Cora clenched her fists, her frustration bubbling beneath her skin.

Upstairs, Evelyn entered Cora's room, closing the door behind her. Her hands trembled as she pulled out her phone. The call connected after a single ring.

"Cora is here. With some man," she whispered, glancing at the door as if they could hear her.

A voice rasped on the other end, dry and hoarse, as if the speaker hadn't touched water in days. "Make sure she returns."

Evelyn hesitated. "I can't. He insists they stay the night."

A tense silence stretched across the line before the voice finally responded. "Then do as you used to . Add the powder to her drink. I'll send someone over."

Evelyn closed her eyes, sighing heavily before slipping her phone back into her apron pocket.

Downstairs, Damien's gaze flickered toward the ceiling, his lips curling into a knowing smirk.

"Your mother's hiding something, little bird," he murmured.

Cora's heart sank.

Her fingers trembled as she clenched them against her lap, feeling the walls of her childhood home closing in on her. She had wanted so badly to believe her mother was innocent—that she was oblivious to the danger lurking in Cora's life.

But now…

Now, she wasn't so sure.

Damien leaned back, stretching his arms over the couch with the lazy arrogance of a king surveying his kingdom. "Don't look so heartbroken, little bird. There's always more to the story."

Cora wanted to believe that.

But deep down, she feared that the truth was far worse than she ever imagined.

; Pajarito is the Spanish word for little bird .