Elias didn't sleep.
Every time he closed his eyes, he felt Varian's mouth on his, that hot, twisted kiss replaying like a curse. He hated it—hated how his body reacted, hated how easily Varian got under his skin.
So when the door creaked open in the middle of the night, he was already awake.
He sat up, fists clenched. "What do you want now?"
Varian stood in the doorway, barefoot and silent. His robes were gone—just loose black pants slung low on his hips, the glow of his markings pulsing faintly in the dark. His expression wasn't mocking this time.
"You said you've lived through worse than me," the demon said.
"So?"
"I want to see it."
Elias's blood turned cold. "No."
Varian stepped closer. "You think I can't break you because you're already broken. I want to know how deep the cracks run."
"Get out."
"I can take you there," Varian said softly, "without touching you."
And before Elias could protest, Varian reached forward and tapped the collar.
The world shattered.
—
Elias stood in a small room—a cheap apartment, lights flickering. His younger self sat in the corner, maybe twelve or thirteen, hugging his knees while two adults screamed in the kitchen.
A bottle shattered.
Elias's breath caught. "No. Don't."
But it wasn't now. It was a memory.
Varian stood beside him, watching quietly.
"Is this the worst?" the demon asked.
Elias couldn't answer. He watched the memory unfold—his mother's voice raw, his father's fury building like a volcano. A slap. A scream. A door slammed.
Then silence.
Young Elias didn't cry. He just stared at the door. Waiting.
"I used to wait until they fell asleep," Elias whispered, his voice hollow. "Then I'd sneak food."
Varian looked at him, truly looked, and for the first time, his expression shifted.
He didn't smile. He didn't mock.
"I didn't know," the demon said.
"Now you do," Elias muttered, turning away.
The memory cracked around them.
—
They were back in the palace bedroom.
Elias sat on the bed, panting, hands shaking. Varian stood nearby, solemn.
"I said no," Elias snapped.
"You needed to remember."
"No," Elias growled. "You needed to control me again."
Varian stepped forward, but slower this time. "I wanted to understand."
Elias shoved him away. "You don't get to understand me. You're not my savior."
"I never claimed to be."
"Then stop acting like I owe you something because you saw one memory!"
Silence.
Then Varian did something unexpected.
He sat on the edge of the bed.
Quiet.
Still.
"I've burned kingdoms," he said softly. "I've eaten gods. And I've never wanted someone the way I want you."
Elias flinched.
"I'm not yours."
"Then I'll keep kissing you," Varian whispered, "until you either break or beg."
And he leaned in, slow this time, brushing his lips over Elias's—barely a touch. Just a promise.
Elias didn't move.
Couldn't.
And he hated that most of all.
---
Continue with Chapter 10?