Skyler

I climbed down the fire escape, the rickety metal groaning beneath my boots as I descended into the alley below. The cool air nipped at my cheeks, but it did little to cool the storm raging in my mind.

What did it mean to be tied to a demon?

Would I be sentenced to eternal damnation, my soul dragged down to Hell when my time came? Or worse—would Rayne consume my soul entirely, erasing me from existence like a flame snuffed out by his will?

The thought sent a shiver down my spine.

As my boots hit the damp alley ground, Rayne materialized beside me, his movements as fluid and deliberate as smoke. His expression was guarded, his sharp features unreadable, though the faint air of smugness never seemed to leave him entirely.

"I need to meet up with my Grandma," I said, waving him off like a stray cat. "Can you go... be somewhere else right now?"

His lips parted, and for a moment, he looked appalled, as though I'd suggested he roll in the mud. But then he relented, dipping into a courtly bow, his movements exaggerated and dripping with sarcasm.

"As you wish," he drawled, disappearing into thin air.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. He couldn't stay.

I needed to figure out how to get rid of him.

But how?

Exorcising a demon wasn't exactly in the family playbook. Our spells were for blessings, harvests, and the occasional herbal charm—not for banishing creatures of Hell. And hiring a real exorcist? That would bankrupt me a thousand times over, assuming I could even find one.

Could I exorcise myself? Was that even possible? I wasn't sure. But the thought of spending every waking moment tied to a demon—especially one like Rayne—was unbearable.

Traditional employment suddenly loomed on the horizon like a dark, stormy cloud. Maybe I'd have to get a full-time job to save up for an exorcist or learn how to banish him myself. But the thought of slaving away for minimum wage, disconnected from the forest and the life I'd always known, was its own brand of torture.

God, I was going to kill Grandma for giving me the wrong stupid spell.

Pushing the thoughts aside, I stepped out onto the street just as Grandma emerged from the optician's. Her new glasses perched precariously on her nose, their lenses thick as milk bottles.

She spotted me and waved cheerily, the rain glinting off the glass like tiny stars.

"New glasses," she announced, "and bad news."

I raised an eyebrow. "Bad news?"

"That old quack of an eye doctor says I'm as blind as a wombat with no eyes."

"Okay..." I prompted.

"And these glasses will help a little," she continued, "but not enough to drive the car."

I froze. "What do you mean, not enough to drive the car?"

"I'm banned from driving," she said, her tone far too casual for someone dropping such a bombshell.

As if on cue, the heavens opened, and a deluge of rain hammered down with unrelenting force.

"What?!" I cried, my voice nearly drowned out by the storm. "How are we going to get back?"

Grandma winced, then pointed directly at me. "Well, you can see, can't you?"

"Yes, but I can't drive!"

"Then we're stuck here," she said with a dramatic shrug, but her eyes flicked over my shoulder, and her expression shifted.

I didn't need to turn around to know he was there.

"I can drive," came Rayne's voice, smooth and cool.

"Rayne." His name slipped off my tongue before I could stop it. I turned to face him, his silver hair glistening under the rain and an umbrella in hand, held over my head. His grey eyes met mine, calm yet oddly piercing.

Casually, his arm brushed against mine, and for a fleeting moment, I wished he was just a normal man—a human with nothing but good intentions.

"You are not insured to drive my grandmother's car, Rayne," I said firmly, trying to inject some authority into my voice.

Cutting across the tension, Grandma interjected with a laugh. "Oh, I've been driving without insurance for the last twenty years."

"What?!" I snapped, whipping around to face her. "You've been driving without insurance? Grandma, that's illegal! What if someone hit us?"

"No one's going to hit us," she said, waving off my concern. "I've got a charm in the trunk for that—Granny's secret recipe." She winked at Rayne, who looked vaguely amused.

"Is that what those weird brown clumps of mould are in the back?" I demanded, my voice rising.

"Don't question the magic, duck," she replied, patting my shoulder. "Now, if this gorgeous young man wants to drive, I say we let him. What's the harm?"

I stared at her, dumbfounded, before turning back to Rayne, who was watching the exchange with thinly veiled amusement.

"You're not driving," I said flatly.

"Then you'll be walking," he replied, his tone infuriatingly calm. He stepped closer, the umbrella still shielding me from the rain, as his grey eyes met mine once more. "I suggest you reconsider, little witch."

Grandma clapped her hands. "You can even stay for dinner!"

Oh God. My Grandma was inviting the demon to dinner. This was not good.

Grabbing Rayne's free arm, I pulled him away from the car. "Rayne's pretty busy, Grandma," I said quickly, my voice rising in panic.

Rayne smirked. "No, I'm not."

Grandma's face lit up. "See! It'll be lovely to have Skyler's friend over for dinner!"

"He's not my friend!" I yelled, glaring at him.

Without warning, Rayne slid an arm around my waist, pulling me closer. "I thought you weren't going to wait to tell your Grandma about us," he said smoothly, his voice dripping with mock sincerity.

My jaw hit the floor. "What?"

Grandma's eyes sparkled with delight. "Were you the naked young man in my front garden?"

Rayne leaned conspiratorially toward her, feigning shyness. "I swore Skyler to secrecy."

"That's not true!" I yelled, smacking his arm, my face burning with humiliation.

Grandma laughed, clearly enjoying this far too much. "They always say it's the quiet ones you have to look out for."

Before I could protest further, Grandma handed Rayne the car keys. He accepted them with a triumphant smile, flashing it in my direction.

I swear it might have been funny—if he didn't want my soul.

I could only watch in horror as Rayne unlocked the car and opened the rear passenger door for my Grandma. She beamed, thoroughly charmed by his gentlemanly manners, and got in without hesitation.

"Such a polite young man," she said, settling into her seat.

Rayne shut the door with a flourish and turned to me, his expression practically glowing with smug victory. Begrudgingly, I trudged toward the car and slid into the front passenger seat, hoping the faded leather would somehow swallow me whole.

Rayne climbed into the driver's seat, and as he adjusted it, Grandma whispered loudly from the back, "He's got a tush like a peach!"

I groaned, slinking further into my seat, mortified.

Rayne's lips quirked up in a knowing smirk as he started the car. The engine sputtered and coughed like it always did, and he frowned.

"That's normal," I said with a sigh.

The sputtering finally settled, and Rayne slammed his foot on the accelerator, sending the car lurching forward. We shot out of the parking lot like a bat out of Hell, the town vanishing behind us in a blur.

"I never thought the old girl could go this fast!" Grandma laughed, clapping her hands in delight.

Rayne, ever the picture of calm, glanced at me. "I'll have a look at the engine when we get home," he said, his tone smooth, his smile so fake it could have come with a warning label.

I narrowed my eyes at him. It was the kind of smile you'd expect from a James Bond villain just before revealing their nefarious plan. And here I was, stuck in his trap, trying desperately to figure out an escape route.

Rain streaked the windows as the scenery changed from quaint fields and farms to the shadowy expanse of the forest. Grandma had thankfully fallen asleep, sparing me more of her embarrassing commentary.

Finally, as we neared the welcome sign to the forest, I couldn't take the silence anymore. Checking over my shoulder to make sure Grandma was still out cold, I turned to Rayne and asked quietly, "Why did you tell my Grandma those lies?"

"Lies?" he replied smoothly, his tone infuriatingly casual. "Partial exaggerated truths, perhaps, but never lies."

I glared at him. "None of it was true! It was all baloney!"

Rayne's smirk deepened as he glanced at me, his grey eyes practically gleaming with mischief. "Skyler, I'm tied to you for eternity. Where you go, I follow. Telling your dear grandmother a few... adjustments to the truth makes it easier for me to live in your home."

I stared at him, my jaw dropping in disbelief. "I do not want you living in my home."

He raised an eyebrow, his expression cool and unbothered. "I'm not sleeping outside," he replied, as if the very idea was absurd.

"Well, you're not sleeping in my bedroom either!" I snapped, my voice rising.

His wicked smirk spread further. "I wasn't planning to," he said, the low murmur of his voice laced with mockery.

For a moment, I just gaped at him, utterly flustered. My mouth opened, ready to fire back a retort, but no words came. Finally, I snapped it shut, clenching my hands into fists as I turned toward the window, my finger tracing the rain streaks as frustration simmered inside me.

"No way are you coming inside the house," I said, refusing to look at him. "You can sleep... on the roof."

"The roof?" he repeated, his voice dripping with disbelief. "What do you think I am, a gargoyle?"

I turned back to him, my eyes narrowing. "You're not far off."

Rayne let out a low chuckle, the sound sending an infuriating shiver down my spine. "You'd have me perched in the rain, brooding over your precious forest like some gothic ornament? You wound me, little witch."

"Good," I shot back. "If you're so tied to me, you can be tied outside. The bond doesn't mean you have to be in my house."

"I beg to differ," he said smoothly, leaning back in his seat with infuriating nonchalance. "We're bonded, remember? The closer I am to you, the better the bond functions. I should be sleeping in your room."

"Absolutely not!" I said, my voice sharp enough to make him arch an eyebrow.

"Then how do you suggest this arrangement works, hmm?" he asked, his tone light but cutting. "I can't very well sleep in your vegetable patch or cuddle up with the pumpkins."

"You can sleep anywhere that's not inside," I countered. "I don't care if you pitch a tent in the woods or curl up in the shed."

"The shed?" He let out a disbelieving laugh. "With the spiders and the rusting tools? I don't think so."

"Fine," I said, throwing my hands in the air. "Sleep in the car. You already seem so comfortable driving it like a maniac."

He leaned closer, his grey eyes locking onto mine. "Or," he drawled, "you could let me have the bed, and you sleep on the floor."

I blinked, stunned by his audacity. "What? Are you insane?"

He shrugged. "It's a logical solution. I'm your guest, after all."

"You're not a guest!" I hissed. "You're... you're an intrusion!"

"And yet, here I am," he said, spreading his hands in mock magnanimity. "Might as well make the best of it."

"The best of it," I repeated, my voice rising in exasperation. "You don't get to make the best of it! You're a demon, Rayne! You don't belong in my house—or my life!"

His smirk faltered for just a second, and his gaze flickered with something almost unreadable. Then, just as quickly, the mask returned. "Like it or not, little witch, we're bound. If you want to fight this every step of the way, that's your choice. But I'm not sleeping on the roof."

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "I'll figure out how to break this bond. And when I do, you're out of here."

"Until then," he said, his voice soft but firm, "you're stuck with me."

I glanced back at him, meeting his steady, infuriating gaze. My stomach twisted with frustration—and something else I refused to name.

This demon was going to drive me insane.