Living With My Demon Stepsister

"You're assigning me a what now?" I blinked, trying to wrap my head around the fact that Lila had just summoned an actual demon into our house. Again.

"A guard," she said, casually threading her fingers through my hair like this was some normal Tuesday. "You know, just in case someone else from her side gets any stupid ideas."

I rubbed my temples. "Okay. But what are you going to tell my dad? That he's…what? A royal demon assassin from Hell here to babysit his teenage son?"

Lila smirked. That infuriating, perfect smirk. "You're nineteen, not a teenager and we'll say he's a cook."

Demetrius, standing ramrod straight in his ancient robes, tilted his head. "My Queen, with all due respect… I cannot cook."

She narrowed her glowing eyes at him.

He straightened like a soldier about to get shot. "I mean—I can cook. Absolutely. I love cooking. Big fan of…uh, fire. Boiling things. Yes, Your Highness, I'm the cook."

"Good boy." She kissed me on the cheek, all sweet and smug. "I'm off."

"To where?" I asked, already dreading the answer.

"Council meeting," she replied like it was a weekly book club.

I raised an eyebrow. "You go to those?"

She leaned in close, her lips almost brushing mine. "Where do you think I am when I'm not ruining your life?"

My mouth moved, but no words came out. Typical.

She winked. A glowing portal tore open behind her. "Don't miss me too much," she whispered, and then she was gone.

---

Which left me standing in the living room with a guy dressed like the ghost of a gladiator staring at me like I might explode.

"So... you really can't cook?" I asked.

Demetrius shook his head solemnly. "Not even toast."

---

At first, I tried to ignore him.

But he was everywhere. My bedroom. The hallway. Outside the bathroom door. Like some kind of demonic guardian angel with no sense of boundaries.

By lunch, I snapped.

"You know," I muttered, poking at the charcoal mess on my plate, "you don't have to follow me into every single room."

He didn't flinch. "If something happens to you, she'll kill me. Slowly. As in alive-for-a-hundred-years-of-screaming slowly."

I stared down at what might once have been a sandwich. Then back up at him. "Wow."

Demetrius sat across from me, staring like a mother hen with PTSD. "Aren't you… scared of her?"

That made me pause. "What?"

"I mean the Queen," he said. "She's… you know. She could destroy everything."

I looked down at my plate. My appetite had died somewhere between the smell and the texture.

"Of course I'm scared of her."

He stayed quiet, waiting.

"I'm scared because she's… dangerous," I said. "And powerful. And unpredictable. She can do things I don't understand and feel things I can't measure. But…"

I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair.

"But she always looks at me like I'm not just human. Like I'm... hers. And sometimes… sometimes she looks scared too."

Demetrius blinked. "Scared of what?"

"Of me walking away," I said.

---

Somewhere in a dark, cold council chamber surrounded by armored generals and ancient demon elders, Lila sat on her throne.

A general was droning on about territory breaches and gate stabilization. Her fingers rested still on the obsidian arms of the throne.

But her eyes—they weren't focused on anyone in the room.

They were on a wall. To her, it wasn't just stone.

It was a window. A silent viewing portal. One only she could use and through it, she was watching me.

Hearing me.

Seeing me sit at our table with her useless cook, my hands gesturing as I talked.

Of me walking away, I had said.

"Aww," she whispered under her breath.

"Did you say something, Your Highness?" one of the generals asked.

She turned slowly and smiled—a soft, gentle thing that made ancient demons feel the cold chill of death.

"No," she said. "Carry on."

But her hand curled slightly and even from worlds away, I think I felt it.

Her silent promise: You're not going anywhere.

---

To be continued...