Meanwhile, Somewhere Else…
Maggie was pacing restlessly in front of the house. She hadn't seen Zamora since the girl left that afternoon, and there was still no sign of her returning as night crept in.
"It's late, Mag. You should come inside," Merry called out, spotting her daughter still in the front yard. The frustration on Maggie's face was enough to reflect exactly how she felt about Zamora.
"Damn it! Where did that girl go?" Maggie muttered, loud enough for Merry to hear as she stood in the doorway, ready to grab some firewood from the shed beside the house.
"She'll be back soon. Just wait inside, it's getting too cold," Merry advised as she opened the shed door.
"Oh, and tell your father to oil this door—it's squeaking again."
Maggie didn't respond. She wasn't the obedient type. If she ever did act obediently, it was usually a sign something was seriously wrong in her head.
"Mag, did you hear me?" Merry asked when her daughter simply stood there silently.
"You should be stricter with Zamora! She's been too slow and careless lately," Maggie snapped, stomping her foot before storming into the house.
Merry could only shake her head. Maggie's behavior wasn't surprising—she'd spoiled her daughter since childhood. And ever since Zamora came to live with them, Maggie had become even more possessive and demanding.
As the night grew colder, Merry couldn't shake the uneasy feeling settling in her chest. Zamora still hadn't come back. She looked around the quiet neighborhood, her gut tightening with dread.
Suddenly, she remembered the rumors that had been circulating among the neighbors. Her unease deepened as her mind conjured frightening possibilities—what if Zamora had been taken by them?
"Oh God… where could that girl be?" she muttered anxiously, exhaling heavily before stepping into the firewood shed.
---
Elsewhere, Far from Home…
Zamora stood at the window of her stark white bedroom, staring out into the pitch-black world beyond. The trees around the castle courtyard were bare, lifeless.
Droplets of dew began to form on the window pane. Below her, horned creatures and others cloaked in black moved swiftly through the darkness, flying here and there.
She also spotted several beautiful women dressed in skimpy, elegant clothing wandering the grounds as if unaffected by the cold—or perhaps, the chill came from them.
There were too many to count under the glow of the moonlight. Some perched in trees, their piercing eyes locked onto hers.
Zamora couldn't look away. Then, all at once, they vanished—melting into thick black smoke that blended into the night.
"I want to go home," Zamora whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Her heart pounded erratically. Some of the creatures had floated right up to her window. Their faces were striking, adorned with horns—very different from Dante. She didn't know why their forms differed, but they all had one thing in common: they were predators.
Their eyes gleamed crimson.
Their lips pulled back—
Revealing slick, razor-sharp fangs.
The entire castle swarmed with their kind. There was no escape route this time. In an instant, they were inside her room. They moved so fast she couldn't even react.
Their fangs pierced her pale skin, sending waves of unbearable pain through her body.
Zamora jolted awake, gasping for breath. She sat up quickly, escaping the clutches of yet another nightmare—one more terrifying than the last. She scanned her room. Everything was still as it had been. She was alone.
But her heart thudded violently in her chest.
Tears poured down her cheeks again. She was truly terrified. And yet, if she returned home now, her aunt would no doubt strike her.
"You're awake?" came a voice, echoing through the room.
Zamora turned. Dante stood by the door, expressionless. He wore the same kind of cloak the creatures in her dream had.
"I came by earlier, but you were still asleep," he said, walking calmly toward her as she sat frozen on the bed.
"I want to go home," she said, her voice shaky, her body tensing.
"No. You're staying here!" Dante snapped.
"But I—" Zamora's hand flew to the mark on her neck. "Argh! It burns!" she cried out.
"Don't defy me, Zamora. The pain will only get worse if you go against me," he warned, reaching toward the burning mark. The heat faded the moment his hand hovered over it.
"What do you want from me?!" Zamora sobbed.
"I told you before—I want you to bear a child of our kind. Is that so hard to accept?" Dante replied, his face unreadable.
If only he understood how unbearable that was for her, maybe she wouldn't have to answer at all.
"I'm sorry… I can't. I want to go home. Please, let me go, Lord Demon!" she cried, voice breaking.
Dante said nothing. He turned and left the room.
Zamora stared after him, uncertain if she would be allowed to return—or trapped forever.
"Lord Demon! Let me go home!" she screamed again just as he reached the door.
"You're not going anywhere. Besides, your aunt will probably kill you for being gone this long," he replied calmly, glancing back. "Don't believe me?"
Zamora fell silent. What he said might actually be true.
"Do you understand now? You're safer here—as long as you're useful," Dante said flatly.
Just until I give him the heir he wants, then I'll leave, Zamora thought bitterly.
"Fine. I agree. What do you want me to do?" she asked after weighing her options.
Dante suddenly appeared right in front of her—already on the bed.
---
The Next Morning…
Sunlight filtered in gently through the window, warming Zamora's exhausted face as soft voices woke her from her sleep.
She blinked groggily, eyes adjusting to the light. Several girls were chatting quietly in her room, tidying up.
"W-who are you?" she asked, startled.
They turned toward her, surprised.
"Sorry we woke you. We were told to clean your room. I'm Ariana, and that's Claire," one of them said with a smile. Zamora could tell they were Succubi from their provocative attire.
"Don't be afraid. We won't hurt you. Dante would kill us if you got even a scratch," added another girl, who appeared suddenly. "I'm Elena."
"We didn't know what you eat in the mornings, but we brought you this." Elena offered her a plate of roasted meat.
"It may seem weird, but this is all we have."
Zamora looked at the meat. Not just strange—it was practically absurd to have roast meat for breakfast.
"It's beef, don't worry. Dante bought it from the market," Claire reassured her.
"Ow!" Zamora flinched as pain surged through her body.
Bruises covered her skin. Last night's events came rushing back.
"Are you okay?" Claire asked gently.
Zamora nodded weakly.
"Alright, we'll go now. If you need anything, we'll be in the next room," said Ariana.
The three girls vanished in a puff of smoke. Zamora barely flinched—she'd seen it too often in her dreams. Or perhaps, it was reality now.
---
After finishing the unusual breakfast, Zamora gingerly stepped off the bed. The cold floor sent a sting through her sore feet.
She exited her room into a long hallway lit only by torchlight. The silence was eerie. Carefully, she made her way down the corridor and then the stairs, gripping the wall for balance.
At the bottom, she heard faint moaning from further down the hallway—pleading, feminine voices echoing off the stone walls.
Drawn by curiosity and dread, she crept forward.
She stopped before a cell. Inside, a girl lay writhing in pain on a bed of straw. Zamora's eyes widened in horror. She recognized her—someone she'd seen when she was first captured.
"Hey! Are you okay? What happened to you?" she called out, panicked.
The girl turned her head weakly and let out a scream of agony.
Zamora frantically looked for a way to help. The cell was locked and chained.
"What are you doing here?" a soft voice asked behind her.
Zamora jumped. A girl had appeared silently behind her.
"I have to help her!" Zamora cried.
"You shouldn't interfere. Dante will be very angry," the Succubus girl said.
"What do you mean?" Zamora frowned.
"Go back to your room. You don't belong here," Alice said coldly, staring Zamora down.
But Zamora refused. Grabbing a nearby stone, she struck at the cell lock with all her might.
"Why do you care? That girl will die soon. She wasn't chosen," Alice sneered.
"Then I'll save her before she dies!" Zamora shouted.
"I'm not like you heartless monsters!"
Alice's fangs glinted as she snarled and grabbed Zamora's arm roughly, making her drop the stone.
Zamora shut her eyes as Alice's cold breath grazed her neck.
"You've tested my patience," she hissed.
"Back away, Alice!" a deep voice thundered.
Dante had arrived, yanking Alice away and hurling her across the floor.
Alice growled fiercely. "What is wrong with you, Dante?!"
"I warned you—stay away from her! Anyone who harms her answers to me!" he roared.
Alice vanished in a cloud of smoke.
"This place is dangerous. Don't you realize that?" Dante said to Zamora, his tone hard.
"I just wanted to save her. She was in pain, Lord Demon!"
"This world isn't like yours. She'll die soon anyway. She can't bear our children," he said, brushing his hand over Zamora's stomach. "You, on the other hand, will become a mother—if you keep obeying me."
Dante turned and walked away, leaving Zamora in stunned silence as he disappeared into the shadows.