Page 113 of Sticks & Serpents

After a moment’s hesitation, I stepped inside. The door creaked open slowly, revealing a cold interior that felt almost too quiet—a stark reminder of the absence that hung over this place.

I moved cautiously through the foyer, each step echoing off the walls. The memories pressed in on me—the laughter from past parties, Damien's teasing smile when he’d caught me off guard—but now those echoes felt haunting.

In the dimly lit parlor, I spotted her—Damien’s mother—sitting gracefully in an armchair with a glass of wine cradled in her hand and a candle on the stand next to her. It smelled like vanilla. Her eyes were sharp as they met mine, and an unsettling smirk played at her lips.

“I knew you’d come,” she said smoothly.

I crossed my arms tightly around myself, trying to mask how her presence unsettled me. My voice came out flat as I replied, “Say what you need to say. This is the last time we’re doing this.”

She took her time sipping from her glass, letting the silence stretch between us like an invisible barrier. “You think you’ve won, don’t you?”

The words struck deep, making me stiffen instinctively.

“This isn’t a game,” I shot back.

His mother smirked, standing with an elegance that felt all too predatory. “Of course it is. And you don’t even realize you’re losing.”

The air turned electric, and my heart raced as I tried to gauge her intentions. Something sharp and metallic flashed in her hand, and it took a split second for my mind to register what it was—a knife.

Panic surged through me, but before I could react, she lunged forward. Adrenaline shot through my veins as I stumbled back, trying to dodge her attack.

A sharp pain sliced across my arm. I gasped, feeling warmth trickle down to my wrist as I stumbled further away from her reach. The shock was immediate; I barely had time to process what had just happened before instinct kicked in.

“Why are you doing this?” I cried out, pressing my palm against the wound to staunch the bleeding.

She paused for a moment, that twisted smile still etched on her face as she regarded me like I was nothing more than a plaything. “You think you can come into our lives and take him from me? You’re wrong.”

I could feel the sting of betrayal slicing deeper than the physical pain coursing through my arm. How could she think this would work? Did she truly believe violence would drive me away? My thoughts raced—Damien wouldn’t want this. He’d never want this.

“You’ll regret getting involved with him,” she continued, stepping closer despite the distance I tried to create between us.

Every instinct screamed at me to run, but something anchored me in place—fear mixed with a strange resolve.

“I won’t let you hurt him,” I shot back, even though my voice wavered slightly under the weight of her icy gaze.

The tension hung thick in the air between us like a noose tightening around my throat. The knife glinted ominously in her hand as she took another step toward me. My heart thundered in my chest; every part of me screamed for escape.

But all I could do was hold my ground, ready to fight if necessary—because there was no way I would let Damien’s mother take anything from me again.

The wine glass shattered against the floor, sending shards scattering like jagged stars. Suddenly, flames licked at the edges of the curtains, their orange tongues flickering hungrily. Where had they come from? A candle? It must have gotten knocked over when the wine did.

Smoke filled the air, swirling around me as panic surged through my veins. I could barely think past the acrid smell and the choking haze, but one thing remained clear—Damien’s mother stood in front of me, a twisted smile still plastered on her face.

She lunged again, knife glinting in the firelight. My heart raced as I sidestepped her attack, adrenaline sharpening my senses. I grabbed her wrist with both hands, twisting it hard until I heard a sharp gasp escape her lips and felt the knife slip from her grasp. It clattered to the floor, ringing out against the chaos surrounding us.

“Enough!” I shouted, fueled by desperation and anger.

With a sudden burst of strength, I shoved her back against the burning curtains. The fabric ignited instantly, flames roaring higher as they consumed it. She stumbled but didn’t fall—her eyes widened in shock and fury as she struggled to regain her balance.

I pressed forward, adrenaline surging through me as I locked my grip tighter around her wrist. “You won’t hurt him anymore!” I shouted over the crackling fire.

The heat from the flames wrapped around us like an embrace, making it hard to breathe. The room was quickly filling with smoke; it stung my eyes and made my throat feel tight. But all that mattered was this moment—this confrontation.

Her face contorted in rage as she pushed against me with surprising force. “You think you can take him from me? You’ll regret this!”

I met her gaze head-on; fear clashed with resolve in my chest. “You’re wrong! You’ve made his life hell for too long!”

As she fought to pull free, my heart pounded louder than the roar of the fire surrounding us. Flames danced closer to my skin; the heat intensified with each passing second. But I couldn’t back down now—not when Damien’s future depended on it.

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