The Devil's Mistress

Chapter 36: The House's Grip

The stairs creaked as Lilith ascended from the underground chamber. Her pulse pounded in her ears, the heavy weight of the First Mistress’s words still lingering in her mind: “The house never lets go.” The darkness that had seemed so suffocating before now felt alive, as if it was breathing down her neck, watching her every step.

As she reached the top of the stairs, Lilith pushed open the door, her senses on high alert. The house was eerily quiet—too quiet. The air inside had changed. There was a thick, unnatural stillness that seemed to press down on her, making it hard to breathe. She couldn't shake the feeling that the house was closing in on her, tightening its grip.

“Mistress?” Lilith called out into the silence, her voice barely carrying in the dense air. No answer. The house seemed to absorb her words, swallowing them whole.

She took a cautious step forward, scanning the room for any sign of life. The once-familiar hallway now seemed foreign, distorted by shadows that stretched unnaturally long across the floor. The portraits along the walls no longer followed her with their eyes; instead, they stared blankly ahead as though waiting for something to happen.

Lilith moved forward, her footsteps echoing in the hollow silence. She could feel the power stirring beneath her skin, as if the house itself was drawing it out of her, pulling her deeper into its clutches. Every part of her wanted to run, to escape this place, but she knew there was no leaving until she faced whatever awaited her in the heart of the house.

As she passed through the hallway and entered the grand living room, she found the Mistress—collapsed on the floor, her body unnaturally still.

Lilith’s breath caught in her throat, panic rising as she rushed to her side. “Mistress! Wake up!” she shook her gently, but there was no response. The Mistress’s face was pale, her skin cold to the touch. For a moment, Lilith feared the worst, but then she felt it—a faint pulse, barely detectable.

Relief flooded through her, but it was short-lived. The Mistress was alive, but something had taken hold of her. Lilith could feel it, a dark energy coursing through the air, tangling around the Mistress like invisible chains.

Suddenly, a voice echoed through the room—low, mocking, and all too familiar.

“You should have left when you had the chance.”

Lilith spun around, her heart hammering in her chest. Standing in the doorway, his face shadowed by the dim light, was Ethan. But there was something different about him now. His presence exuded a dark, almost predatory energy, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous intent.

“Ethan?” Lilith said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped forward, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Did you really think you could walk into this house and claim its power without consequence?”

Lilith’s blood ran cold as the pieces began to fall into place. Ethan hadn’t just been helping her. He had been using her, manipulating her from the very beginning. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut.

“You’re part of this,” she whispered, horror dawning in her eyes. “You’ve been leading me into this all along.”

Ethan’s smile widened, his eyes dark with malice. “I needed you to open the door, Lilith. The house recognizes you—your bloodline. You were the key. And now, thanks to you, I can take what’s mine.”

Lilith’s mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. The clues had been there, buried beneath the lies and half-truths. Ethan had known more than he let on—about the house, about the pact, about her powers. He had been playing her from the start, using her to unlock the house’s dark potential for his own gain.

Anger surged through her, overpowering the fear that had taken root in her chest. She stood up, squaring her shoulders as she faced him. “You think you can control this power? The house isn’t yours, Ethan. It never was.”

Ethan’s expression darkened, his smile fading into something far more menacing. “You don’t understand what you’ve unleashed, Lilith. This house belongs to those who can control it. And you… you’re just a pawn. A means to an end.”

Lilith felt her power stir beneath the surface, hotter and more volatile than ever before. The house may have chosen her for a reason, but she was not about to let it, or Ethan, dictate her fate.

“Maybe I am a pawn,” she said, her voice steady. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll let you win.”

With a sudden burst of energy, Lilith raised her hand, calling forth the power she had been holding back for so long. The room trembled as the air crackled with electricity, dark tendrils of energy swirling around her like a storm. Ethan took a step back, his eyes widening in shock.

“What are you—” he started, but Lilith didn’t give him a chance to finish. She unleashed the full force of her power, sending a wave of dark energy crashing into him. Ethan was thrown back, slamming into the wall with a sickening thud.

For a moment, there was only silence. Lilith stood there, her chest heaving, the room around her still trembling with residual energy. Ethan lay crumpled on the floor, unconscious but still breathing. She had stopped him, for now.

But as the dust settled, Lilith realized something terrifying. The house was watching. It had been watching all along, and now it wanted more. The power she had tapped into wasn’t just her own—it was part of the house, and now it was awake, hungry, and waiting.

Lilith took a deep breath, her hands shaking as the weight of what she had just done settled over her. Ethan had been right about one thing—the house had its own will, its own desires. And she was tied to it now, whether she liked it or not.

She knelt down beside the Mistress, her voice low as she whispered, “I won’t let it control me. I won’t become what it wants.”

The Mistress stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open. She gazed up at Lilith, weak but conscious. “You’re stronger than it, Lilith,” she rasped, her voice barely audible. “But you must fight it. Or it will take everything from you.”

Lilith nodded, her resolve hardening. The house had played its cards, but she wasn’t finished yet. She would fight—fight for her sister, fight for herself, and fight to break free from the house’s grip. No matter the cost.

As she stood up, the shadows around her seemed to pulse, as if the house was testing her, waiting for her next move. But Lilith wasn’t afraid anymore. She had power, and she would use it.

The game wasn’t over.

It was just beginning.