Chapter One: The Devil at the Door
1875 Words
Zelda
The knock was loud, sharp, and deliberate. It echoed through the silence of my house, startling me so badly that I nearly dropped the iron dagger I’d been clutching since Marco’s last phone call.
No one ever came to my door. Not this late, not without calling first.
I froze, every muscle in my body locking into place as I stared at the front door. Another knock came, slower this time but just as deliberate.
I tried to steady my breathing, gripping the dagger tighter. Whoever it was—whatever it was—had no business here.
I forced myself to move, taking careful steps toward the door. My heart hammered against my ribs, every instinct screaming at me to run, but I couldn’t. Not until I knew.
When I reached the door, I paused.
“Who is it?” My voice wavered, but I tried to inject as much authority as I could muster.
Silence.
Another knock.
My fingers itched toward the deadbolt, but I stopped myself. Something wasn’t right.
“Answer me,” I demanded, louder this time.
A low laugh filtered through the door, rich and dark, curling around me like smoke. “Oh, Zelda. Do you really need to ask?”
My stomach dropped.
“Marco,” I hissed, the name barely audible over the blood rushing in my ears.
“You sound surprised,” he said, his tone as smooth and infuriating as ever. “You’ve been waiting for me, haven’t you?”
I slammed my hand against the door, furious. “Get out of here! I don’t care what you are or what you want, you’re not coming in!”
Another laugh, softer this time. “Oh, little one. You don’t seem to understand how this works.”
The temperature in the room dropped sharply, and I shivered despite the sweat slicking my skin. My breath fogged in the air, and the sound of my own heartbeat filled my ears.
“Let me in, Zelda,” Marco murmured, his voice a low purr. “Or do I have to break the door down?”
The doorknob rattled as if to prove his point.
My legs trembled, but I forced myself to stay upright. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me fall apart.
“You can’t come in unless I invite you,” I said, trying to channel every ounce of the confidence I didn’t feel. “That’s the rule, isn’t it?”
The laughter stopped.
When Marco spoke again, his voice was softer, almost dangerous in its calmness. “You really think a rule like that applies to me?”
The door creaked, the wood groaning as though something heavy was pressing against it. I stumbled back, clutching the dagger tighter as I stared, wide-eyed, at the splintering wood.
“Stop!” I shouted. “I’ll banish you, I swear!”
The door fell silent.
For a moment, I thought it was over. That somehow, I’d won. But then the door burst open with a deafening crack, splinters flying through the air as the cold wind of something otherworldly swept through my home.
And there he stood.
Marco filled the doorway like a shadow come to life, tall and lean but undeniably powerful. His dark curly hair fell loose around his face, and those reddish-orange eyes glowed with an intensity that made my breath hitch. Tattoos coiled up his neck and down his arms, faintly pulsing as though alive.
He didn’t look monstrous. That was the most terrifying part. He was beautiful, a perfect storm of grace and danger, every inch of him exuding a dark, predatory energy.
“Hello, Zelda,” he said, his lips curling into a slow, wicked smile. “Miss me?”
---
Marco
There she was.
Standing in the middle of her little living room, clutching that pathetic dagger like it could actually hurt me. Fear rolled off her in waves, sweet and intoxicating, but beneath it was something more.
Anger. Defiance.
God, I loved that about her.
“You—” She struggled for words, her voice trembling as she took a step back. “You broke the door.”
“Did you really think a little wood and metal would keep me out?” I asked, stepping forward. She flinched but didn’t run. Good. Running would’ve ruined the moment.
Her eyes darted to the mirror over the mantle, where my reflection still lingered, grinning back at her like a wolf.
“Stop this,” she said, her voice sharper now. “Whatever game you’re playing, I’m not part of it.”
I tilted my head, pretending to consider her words. “Not part of it? Zelda, you are the game.”
Her jaw clenched, and the sight of it sent a thrill through me. She was so strong, so stubborn, even when she was completely outmatched.
I took another step, watching as her grip on the dagger tightened.
“Don’t come any closer,” she warned.
“Or what?” I asked, genuinely curious. “You’ll stab me? Go ahead. See what happens.”
She hesitated, and I smiled.
“That’s what I thought,” I said, closing the distance between us. I leaned down, letting her feel the heat of my presence, the weight of my power pressing against her like a second skin. “You’re not going to hurt me, Zelda. You can’t.”
Her breath hitched, her lips parting slightly as her defiance wavered.
“Why are you doing this?” she whispered, her voice cracking.
“Because I can,” I replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She didn’t pull away, though I could feel the tremble in her body. “And because you’re mine.”
Zelda
The world tilted.
I don’t know if it was the cold pressing into my chest or the heat radiating from him, suffocating and magnetic, pulling me closer and closer until I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
Marco was too close now, towering over me like some dark god, his glowing eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my legs tremble. Every part of me screamed to move, to fight, but I couldn’t.
“You’re mine, Zelda,” he whispered, the words curling into my ear like smoke. “No matter how hard you fight it. No matter how much you deny it.”
The dagger slipped from my hand, clattering uselessly to the floor. I barely heard it. My knees buckled, the strength draining from my body as his presence washed over me like a tidal wave.
“No,” I tried to say, but the word came out as a breathless whisper.
My vision blurred, his face becoming a smear of fire and shadow as the room spun around me. I stumbled, and before I could catch myself, the floor rose to meet me.
Darkness crept in at the edges of my sight, and the last thing I saw before everything went black was his smile—wide, wicked, and victorious.
---
Marco
She collapsed beautifully.
I’d seen countless mortals break under my presence before—some wept, others begged, their minds crumbling as the weight of me pressed against their fragile little souls. But Zelda…
Zelda fought.
Even now, as she crumpled to the floor, there was a spark of defiance in her, a refusal to surrender completely. She was strong, stronger than most, but she was still human. And humans always broke eventually.
I crouched beside her, brushing a loose curl from her face as I studied her.
So fragile. So perfect.
“You’re going to hate me for this,” I murmured, my voice soft, almost tender. “But that’s okay. Hate and love are two sides of the same coin, little one. And both will make you mine.”
Her breathing was shallow, her lashes fluttering as though she were caught in the throes of a dream. I wondered what she saw in that moment—fear? Desire? Both?
It didn’t matter.
Rising to my feet, I glanced around the room. The iron dagger lay discarded at my feet, its edge dull and useless. The wards she’d placed around the house hummed faintly, their energy no match for the bond tethering me to her.
This was her world, her sanctuary. But now, it was mine too.
And I wasn’t leaving.
---
Zelda
The world came back in pieces.
A dull ache spread through my body as I blinked against the light, my head pounding like I’d been hit by a truck. The faint smell of smoke lingered in the air, and the oppressive heat that had suffocated me earlier was gone.
For a moment, I thought maybe I’d dreamed it. That the knock, the voice, the man—Marco—had all been some horrible nightmare.
But then I saw him.
He was sitting in my chair, one leg draped lazily over the other, his glowing eyes fixed on me with a look of quiet amusement.
“You fainted,” he said, as though the idea of it delighted him.
I pushed myself up on trembling arms, my breath coming in short gasps as I glared at him. “You…” My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard before trying again. “You did something to me.”
Marco arched a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching in what might have been a smirk. “Oh, Zelda. Don’t give me so much credit. You did this to yourself.”
“I—” My words faltered as I struggled to remember the moment I fell, the overwhelming weight of his presence pressing down on me. “Get out.”
“Again with the orders,” he said, leaning back in the chair as though he owned the place. “You really need to work on your hospitality.”
I scanned the room, my eyes landing on the dagger still lying on the floor.
Marco followed my gaze, his smile widening. “Go ahead. Pick it up. Let’s see what you think you can do with it.”
His voice was calm, teasing, but there was an edge beneath it—a challenge I wasn’t sure I could meet.
I scrambled for the dagger anyway, my fingers closing around the cool metal as I turned to face him.
“Get. Out,” I said again, the words firmer this time.
Marco sighed, rising to his feet with an elegance that shouldn’t have been possible for someone his size. He was all lean muscle and fluid motion, a predator toying with his prey.
“I’ll leave,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “But not because you told me to.”
He moved closer, his steps slow and deliberate, until he was standing just out of reach. His gaze burned into mine, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath.
“I’ll leave,” he continued, “because I want you to miss me.”
Before I could respond, he stepped back, his form dissolving into a swirl of shadow and smoke that vanished through the broken doorway.
The oppressive heat vanished with him, leaving me alone in the wreckage of my home.
- Writer
