As Eric lay nestled in the curve of Alaric's neck, he lingered there, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. His gaze traveled over Alaric's face, taking in the flush that colored his usually cool, pale skin, and the beauty that radiated in his softened expression.
Eric's heart stirred as Alaric's fingers wove gently through his soft jet-black hair, a deep contrast to Alaric's own bone-white locks. It was as if their very presence was balanced in light and shadow, dark and light, a silent harmony that neither could deny. Alaric's hand drifted lazily, brushing through Eric's hair with a tenderness that Eric would have never expected. He watched, captivated, as Alaric's face seemed to shed its sharper edges, the demonic intensity fading back into that beautiful, unearthly angelic beauty.
"Is this what you wanted to see?" Alaric murmured, his voice softened, almost reverent.
Eric only gave a faint nod, unable to look away. He was mesmerized by the subtle vulnerability in Alaric's gaze.
Eric's fingers drifted down to Alaric's neck, tracing the delicate skin before brushing over a small, almost unnoticeable chain that hung against Alaric's collarbone. It was simple—barely there, really—a thin silver chain that bore strange markings, symbols that looked almost ancient, etched deeply into the metal.
He hadn't noticed it before, too absorbed in his own hunger, his instincts, the rush of feeding. But now, lying between Alaric's legs, he could see everything—.
"What's this?" Eric whispered, his thumb brushing over the pendant. He felt a strange, unexplainable warmth beneath his touch, as though the small circle held something alive, pulsing faintly with energy.
Alaric's fingers paused in Eric's hair, his gaze darkening just slightly, but he didn't pull away.
"It's a reminder... of things I'd rather not forget."
Eric could feel the gravity in his words—a part of Alaric that he kept hidden beneath the charm and the devilish allure. "What kinds of things?" Eric pressed, his fingers still tracing the circle, feeling its faint, almost magnetic pull.
Alaric's mouth curved in a wistful smile, though his eyes held a distant sadness. "The kind you can only keep in chains," he replied, barely a whisper. "The kind that, once freed, can't be contained."
Alaric sat up slowly ,his fingers tracing Eric's cheek in a way that was almost tender. His eyes, however, gleamed with something far more dangerous, a glint of cunning and calculation masked by the semblance of intimacy. He cupped Eric's face with a gentle touch, brushing his thumb over his cheekbone, his gaze intense and unwavering, studying every reaction that flickered across Eric's face.
Eric felt a strange thrill as he found himself pressed between Alaric, his wide eyes betraying the excitement that swelled within him. Trying to keep his cool, he managed a strained, "I'm not… into guys." But his voice cracked slightly, and Alaric's laugh was soft and dark, almost amused. "Oh, I never assumed you were."
For a moment, something flickered in Eric's expression—something like disappointment.
Alaric leaned in closer, his voice low and silken, carrying a dangerous allure. "Still, I've never met anyone quite like you. Someone willing to challenge the hands that hold the chains, to burn if it's for the right cause… or the right person."
Eric's breath caught, his pulse quickening under Alaric's touch, feeling the weight of his gaze as if it reached down into something deep and untouchable within him. The seductive lure of Alaric's voice, the unspoken promise of something darker and boundless, wound around his thoughts like a spell, binding him closer.
A shiver rippled through Eric, a hunger stirring in place of a quickened pulse. The way Alaric looked at him—like he could see beneath every guarded thought-- He tried to keep his voice steady as he murmured, "I don't… I don't think I'm like that." But his gaze stayed locked with Alaric's, unable to break free.
Alaric's smile turned sly, his hand reaching up to brush along Eric's jaw with an unnervingly possessive touch. "You're lying to yourself again, Eric," he whispered. "You wouldn't have unleashed that blast of power on that creature in the corner of the room,if you didn't know, deep down, that you were capable of it." His eyes held a glint of admiration, "Do you even realize what that kind of power means?"
Eric's brows furrowed, the truth slipping through his uncertainty. "I… didn't know I could do that. I didn't even know vampires could."
Alaric's gaze flickered with excitement, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. "Very few can. The ones who do? They went on to become something feared, something untouchable." He leaned in, his words like a promise of fire and boundless power. "Imagine, Eric, what we could be together, unbound and unafraid."
Eric's face went blank as his mind snagged on that one word—unbound. The thought came from nowhere, but it hit him with a wave of anger so sudden and fierce that it almost startled him. He didn't even fully understand what being bound to Alaric meant, yet the very idea of breaking it felt like a betrayal, like a dark, forbidden ache clawing at him. He'd only been told that he was bound to Alaric hours before—and he'd wanted nothing more than to deny it. But now, the thought of being without it left him feeling hollow and desperate.
"What… do you mean, unbound?" he whispered, his voice tight with something between hurt and fury. He barely understood where it was coming from, but his gaze on Alaric grew sharp and possessive, as if he were ready to hold on tighter.
Alaric raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement crossing his features, but Eric couldn't take his eyes off him, his mind spinning with thoughts he couldn't quite control. "You don't want to be freed from this?" Alaric murmured, tilting his head, his voice edged with mock surprise. "I didn't think you'd want such a binding… with me."
But Eric's jaw tightened, his voice low and fervent. "Maybe I do." The words slipped out before he could stop them, a confession he didn't entirely understand but couldn't hold back. His fingers curled around Alaric's wrist, possessive and cold, as if to keep him from escaping. "I… don't want it broken," he muttered. "Not if it means losing this."
Alaric's smile deepened, and his eyes flashed with a strange mix of delight and danger. "Oh, Eric," he purred, leaning close, "you have no idea what you're asking for."
Eric rose slowly, peeling himself away from Alaric's touch as he locked eyes with him, dark and unwavering . For the first time, he looked at Alaric with complete clarity, his expression sharpened with conviction. "I know exactly what I'm asking for," he murmured, his voice laced with a quiet intensity. There was no hesitation, no trace of the doubt that had flickered there before.
Alaric's smile faltered, just for a second, his eyes widening in unguarded surprise. In that moment, all he could see in Eric was a ghost, a glimmer of someone else. Killian.
The resemblance struck him deeply, with the same defiant fire and fearlessness he'd once known too well. It was haunting—and exhilarating.
Alaric's face softened into something almost like reverence, his fingers brushing against Eric's cheek in a silent, unexpected gesture of awe. "Do you have any idea… how dangerous it is to want this?" he whispered, his voice nearly breathless. But Eric didn't flinch, his gaze unyielding as he leaned into Alaric's touch, refusing to look away.
"I do. And I want it anyway," he replied, his tone steady, resolute. There was a ferocity to him now, a barely contained hunger that echoed that of Killian—but this time, it was for Alaric, a binding he'd claim without question or caution.
Alaric's hand moved up, fingers threading slowly through Eric's hair again, as if savoring the texture, letting each strand slip between his fingers. His touch was almost tender, a softness that seemed at odds with the dark promise that lingered between them. Eric closed his eyes briefly, feeling a strange warmth in the gesture, but somewhere beneath that warmth, he sensed there was more Alaric wasn't revealing—something buried within the bond they shared.
But he didn't press. Instead, he allowed Alaric to continue stroking his hair, letting the moment stretch out, biding his time. If Alaric wouldn't tell him everything, he'd find his own way to unravel the truth, using whatever methods he needed.
A faint smile flickered on Eric's lips, hidden from Alaric's view. Whatever secrets lay within this bond, he'd uncover them soon enough.
Finally Eric looked up at Alaric meeting his gaze with fierce resolve. "I don't care how many times I have to say this but I'll follow you, no matter the cost," he murmured, each word an oath binding him more deeply to Alaric.
A slow smile crept across Alaric's face. "Then I'll give you my blood and my powers." he replied, his voice a low, dangerous promise. Eric's heart leapt at those words, his thoughts flickering to the power, the connection it would grant him. But Alaric wasn't finished. He leaned in closer, his voice a seductive whisper edged with menace. "And once I'm freed from the witch's chains, once I've had my revenge… the world will kneel before me. Every last soul will know my name."
For a brief moment, something twisted in Eric's chest—a flicker of what might have once been humanity, a hint of a conscience warning him against such reckless ambition. He wanted to say something, to hold back from the darkness Alaric was so eager to unleash. But as he stared into Alaric's eyes, he felt that last fragment of resistance crumble, consumed by a hunger that had only grown since meeting him. Deep down, he realized he didn't truly care what happened to the world.
Instead, his attention shifted to the thin iron chain around Alaric's neck, its dark metal pulsing faintly with magic—a binding as relentless as it was mysterious. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the cool metal, feeling the faint hum of power there. "This… is what binds you?" Eric asked, his voice soft, almost reverent.
Alaric's eyes darkened, watching as Eric's fingers lingered on the chain. "For now," he replied, his voice was low and bitter. "But when the time comes, nothing will stand between us and the power I promised."
Eric tightened his hold on the chain, as if he could will it to break with his touch alone.
Alaric's gaze dropped to the chain around his neck, his expression hardening with contempt. "This thing," he muttered, voice thick with resentment, "prevents me from acting on my will alone. I can't harm anyone—can't take revenge—without the witch's authority. She's used it to keep me… restrained.I can't run from her when she holds such power against me....I refuse." His lips curled bitterly at the word, as if it tasted vile on his tongue. "But I believe if she were dead, if her power were broken, I would be free."
Eric's eyes narrowed as the words sank in.The mere thought of this witch holding Alaric captive stirred his own anger, each pulse of the chain's magic fueling a deep, violent urge. He could feel it, like a call to action, a desire to break the chain's power by any means necessary—and if that meant killing, so be it. His fingers tightened against the chain, tracing its dark metal with possessive determination.
Alaric watched him closely, a knowing gleam in his eyes. "I see that spark in you, Eric," he said, his voice low and almost taunting. "Would you… do that for me? For us?" His lips curled into a faint smile, almost daring him to answer.
"Yes." Eric's voice was barely a whisper, but the conviction in it was absolute. His gaze burned with a feral intensity.
As Alaric spoke, Eric's anger deepened, a seething hatred for anyone daring to control Alaric, especially that witch who bound him.
Eric's heart pounded as he listened to Alaric's plan, his dark side thrumming with excitement. Yet, beneath the rush of power Alaric promised, something unexpected stirred—a bitter resentment that he couldn't quite explain. The idea of Alaric, such a fierce, boundless force, bending to anyone's will, even for a clever scheme, filled Eric with a strange anger. The thought that Alaric was controlled by anything, anyone… it almost seemed wrong. He wanted to see Alaric unleashed, wild and unchained—and, somehow, under his command alone.
The notion sparked a thrill in him, a darker, deeper hunger he hadn't fully realized until now. He imagined Alaric's immense strength, his boundless cunning, all bent to his will. The mere idea of it made his pulse race.
Eric wanted Alaric free, yes, but not just to grant him his independence. He wanted that freedom for himself, so he could be the one to wield authority over Alaric, to claim every part of him and bend that power to his own will.
He watched Alaric, who seemed unaware of the thoughts stirring behind Eric's focused gaze. The immortal he feared, was now within his reach.He felt a dangerous thrill at the thought of binding Alaric to him alone, of taking what the witch had tried to control and making it his own.
Alaric leaned closer, oblivious to the shift in Eric's intentions. "You've got that fire in your eyes again," he noted, a hint of admiration threading through his words. "It's what I like about you, that relentlessness."
Eric's lips curved into a faint smile, masking his true thoughts as he met Alaric's gaze. "For you, I would do anything," he murmured, his voice soft but laced with a possessiveness that went unspoken. Alaric took it as loyalty, devotion—but for Eric, it was so much more.
His hand still gripped the chain, feeling the pulse of its magic, the power that held Alaric back. He relished the thought of breaking it, but he would replace it with something stronger—something unbreakable. In his mind, he envisioned a world where Alaric's allegiance, his loyalty, even his heart, were his to command, to guard, to shape.
Yes, he would rid Alaric of this cursed chain, but he wouldn't stop there. He would claim Alaric's very soul if he could, make him see that there was no freedom beyond what Eric allowed. And when Alaric finally realized it, Eric wanted him to accept it—to accept him—as his one and only master.
For now, he kept these thoughts hidden, his face calm as he gently released the chain. "Let's find a way to free you," he whispered, the words as much a promise to Alaric as a vow to himself.