"You fucker," Elias spat, wrenching Eric away with a forceful shove. The brief moment Eric's eyes flicked to Alaric was all the opening Elias needed. The crack of a gunshot echoed through the cell.
Eric gasped, stumbling backward as the bullet ripped into his stomach. He collapsed to one knee, clutching the wound, sharp, ragged breaths spilling from his lips. Blood seeped between his fingers, staining his shirt.
"Eric!" Alaric's voice was sharp, almost breaking. In a blur of motion, he shoved Elias with enough force to send him crashing into the stone wall. The impact echoed through the room as Elias staggered, momentarily dazed.
Alaric was at Eric's side in an instant, dropping to his knees. His trembling hands pressed against the wound, trying to stem the bleeding. His usually calm expression cracked, revealing pure desperation.
"Eric," Alaric murmured, his voice low and unsteady. His sharp eyes scanned Eric's pale face, searching for something—anything—that assured him this wasn't as bad as it seemed. "You'll heal, right? You're going to heal."
Eric looked up, his face pale but defiant, his lips curling in a weak but determined smirk. "I'll heal," he rasped, his voice strained yet resolute. "Don't… let him take you… from me. Please."
Elias, recovering from the shove, straightened with a cruel smirk, his shoulder still bleeding from Eric's bite. He wiped at the blood lazily, as if savoring the moment.
"Touching," he drawled mockingly, his voice dripping with venom. "But you're wasting your time. You both know how this ends."
Alaric turned his head slowly, his piercing gaze locking onto Elias. His lips curled back, baring his fangs in a display of restrained fury. His eyes glinted dangerously in the dim light.
"If you so much as breathe in his direction again," Alaric snarled, his voice low and feral, "I'll rip your throat out and feed it to you."
Elias chuckled coldly, leaning casually against the wall despite his wound. "Oh, Alaric," he sneered, his tone mocking. "It's cute how protective you are. But let's be honest—you can't. You know what happens if you resist."
Alaric's entire body tensed, his nails digging into his palms as his chest rose and fell with controlled breaths. He knew Elias was right—if he pushed back too hard, Eric wouldn't survive. But the humiliation of being disrespected so blatantly burned through him like fire.
His teeth glinted as he leaned closer to Elias, his voice a cold whisper. "You'll regret this."
Elias's smirk faltered ever so slightly, but he quickly recovered, raising the gun again. "You're in no position to make threats, Alaric. Now get up. Both of you."
Alaric didn't move.Instead, he glanced down at Eric, whose breathing was beginning to steady. The faintest hint of relief flickered in his chest—but it wasn't enough to calm him.
Elias aimed the gun directly at Eric, his finger resting lightly on the trigger. His bleeding shoulder did nothing to dampen the cold menace in his gaze. He tilted his head, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.
"Don't move, Alaric," Elias warned, his voice low and deadly serious. "One wrong step, and I'll put a bullet straight through his heart. This time, he won't get back up."
Alaric froze, his body taut like a bowstring. His sharp eyes darted between Eric and Elias, calculating, searching for an opening. But Elias's hand was steady, and his tone left no room for doubt—he wasn't bluffing.
Eric growled low in his chest, the sound feral and guttural. His glowing eyes locked on Elias, burning with raw hatred. Despite the pain radiating through his body, he shifted slightly, his claws digging into the stone floor beneath him.
"You lay one more finger on him," Eric hissed through gritted teeth, his voice trembling with rage, "and I swear I'll tear you apart."
Elias chuckled darkly, clearly unfazed. "Oh, how adorable," he sneered, his smirk widening. "Still growling, even when you're bleeding out. You're like a wounded dog, snarling until the very end. Pathetic."
"Elias," Alaric said, his voice low and controlled, though a dangerous edge lurked beneath it. "You've made your point. Lower the gun."
Elias raised an eyebrow, feigning consideration. "And why would I do that?" he asked, his tone mocking. "You think I'm just going to let him walk out of here after everything?"
"You know me," Alaric said, his sharp eyes locking onto Elias with a deadly intensity.
But then he laughed, a low, cruel sound that echoed through the cell. "I don't care," he said, tightening his grip on the gun. "Now, both of you are going to listen. You'll do exactly as I say, or I'll finish him right here and now."
Elias's finger remained poised on the trigger, his sharp, calculating gaze flicking between Alaric and Eric. He took a step closer, a predatory grin spreading across his face as he tilted his head.
"Here's the deal, Alaric," Elias said coldly, his voice dripping with venom. "Stay out of this, and your little pet lives. But if you so much as flinch, I'll paint these walls with his blood."
Alaric's fists clenched at his sides, the tendons in his neck taut as steel cables. His piercing eyes flicked to Eric, who was still slumped on the ground, one hand pressed against the bloody wound in his stomach. Eric's face was pale. His glowing eyes burned into Elias, silently promising retribution.
Elias smirked, clearly reveling in the power he held. "Smart decision," he sneered as Alaric made no move to attack.
Without warning, Elias grabbed a handful of Eric's hair and yanked him upright. Eric hissed in pain, the sharp tug forcing his head back, exposing his neck. His claws scratched at Elias's wrist, but his strength was fading. Blood dripped from his wound, leaving a trail on the stone floor as Elias began dragging him toward the door.
"Let him go," Alaric growled, his voice low and trembling with barely contained fury.
Elias glanced over his shoulder, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you? But no. You're going to stand there and do absolutely nothing. Because you know the second you move, he dies."
Alaric's chest heaved as he fought to control himself. His sharp eyes tracked every movement, calculating the distance between him and Elias, searching for an opening. But the moment Eric let out a pained grunt, all rational thought wavered. His irises began to darken, shifting to an inky black, and his teeth glinted as his lips curled into a silent snarl.
"Elias!" Alaric's voice snapped like a whip, reverberating through the room. He took a single step forward, his entire body trembling with the effort to hold himself back. "Enough."
Elias laughed, the sound cold and grating. "Then behave yourself, or I'll make sure his screams echo in your ears for the rest of your miserable existence."
Eric growled low in his throat, his claws dragging against the stone as he tried to resist. "I'm not… done," he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice strained yet resolute.
"Oh, you're done," Elias hissed, twisting his grip and forcing Eric to his knees. He bent down, his lips near Eric's ear. "But don't worry—I'll take good care of him once you're gone."
Alaric's nails dug into his palms, drawing blood as he forced himself to stay rooted in place. His eyes followed Eric as Elias dragged him toward the cell door. The sound of Eric's labored breathing mixed with Elias's mocking laughter cut through him like a blade, but still, he didn't move.
The cell door creaked open, and two other men stood waiting outside, their dark silhouettes casting ominous shadows. They stepped forward as Elias shoved Eric into their arms.
"Take him," Elias ordered curtly. "Make sure he knows what happens to those who overstep their bounds."
Eric thrashed weakly, his claws raking against one man's arm, but his strength was rapidly waning. The men hauled him out of the room, dragging him down a dimly lit corridor.
Alaric's vision blurred as his eyes remained fixed on Eric, watching helplessly as he was taken. His hearing sharpened, picking up every labored breath and muffled grunt of pain. The sound of Eric's body hitting the ground as they dragged him farther away sent a ripple of fury through him.
But Alaric stayed still. His entire body felt like it was on the verge of snapping, his sharp nails digging into his palms, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached.
Elias leaned casually against the doorframe, his smirk widening as he watched Alaric. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" he said mockingly. "I'll make sure he's treated… appropriately for the next few days."
Alaric didn't answer. He stood frozen, his blackened eyes fixed on the spot where Eric had disappeared, his rage simmering beneath the surface like a volcano waiting to erupt.
Meanwhile, Eric was dragged down a narrow, dark hallway, his feet scraping against the ground as he fought to stay conscious. The men stopped in front of a heavy steel door, one of them unlocking it with a set of jangling keys.
The door groaned as it swung open, revealing a pitch-black room. The air was cold and damp, carrying the faint scent of mold and decay.
"Have fun," one of the men sneered as they shoved Eric inside.
He hit the ground hard, the impact sending a fresh wave of pain through his body. The door slammed shut behind him, the sound reverberating in the silence.
Eric lay there for a moment, his breathing shallow, his mind racing despite the haze of pain.
He could feel the sticky warmth of his own blood drying against his hands, but the wound itself was slowly closing. Not fast enough, though.
Hours passed—or what felt like hours. Time seemed to stretch and warp in the suffocating blackness. The cramped space offered no relief; the walls were so close he could barely extend his legs. His body was forced into uncomfortable positions, his muscles aching from the lack of room to stretch. The cold stone dug into his back, his shoulders, his knees.
The silence was maddening. No footsteps. No voices. No sound of life beyond the faint echo of his own breathing. Every creak of the stone walls seemed to grow louder in his mind, amplifying the isolation.
But his thoughts wouldn't stay quiet.
Alaric.
The thought of Elias lording over Alaric—of him possibly hurting him—made Eric's blood boil. His claws dug into the stone until the tips cracked. He ignored the sharp sting, the pain fueling the fire in his chest.
"He's mine," Eric hissed into the darkness, his voice low and venomous, breaking the suffocating silence. His glowing eyes narrowed as he stared into the void, his breaths coming faster now, anger rising with each inhale. "No one… no one touches him."
His fists clenched, the movement pulling at his wound, but he didn't care. He could picture Elias's mocking face, the condescending tilt of his head, the way he'd grabbed Alaric's attention so easily. It burned Eric from the inside out, the fury spreading through him like wildfire.
His breathing slowed, the sound echoing faintly in the suffocating silence. He closed his eyes, his anger simmering into a cold, focused determination.
Alaric was strong—stronger than anyone gave him credit for—but Eric couldn't stand the thought of him facing Elias alone. That bastard didn't deserve to be in the same room as him, let alone try to manipulate him.
Eric leaned his head back against the wall, his glowing eyes piercing the darkness.His strength was returning, his wound already knitting itself closed. The fire in his chest refused to be extinguished, burning brighter with every second he thought about Alaric.
Eric froze, his whispered chant of Alaric cut off mid-breath. The sound was faint at first, so faint it could have been his imagination—a light, lilting whistle that slid into the cramped darkness like an intruder. It came from just outside the room.
His glowing eyes snapped toward the door, the only opening in this suffocating tomb. The slit near the top, barely wide enough to let in the thinnest stream of light, was his only connection to the outside.
The whistling grew louder, closer, winding its way through the oppressive silence like a predator stalking its prey. It was too cheerful, almost mocking, as if whoever was on the other side knew exactly how unnerving it was. Eric's breath hitched, his claws scraping against the stone floor as his body tensed.
The shadows came next, stretching long and distorted across the slit in the door. At first, it was just a vague shape, but as the figure moved closer, the outline sharpened—a tall frame, unnaturally still except for the slight sway of a hand. The whistling stopped abruptly, the silence it left behind more deafening than the sound itself.
Then came the voice.
"Do you want to be free?"
The whisper seeped through the door like smoke, soft and low, yet it hit Eric with the force of a thunderclap. It wasn't a voice he recognized, yet his body reacted instantly—every nerve was being pulled taut. His claws flexed involuntarily, his glowing eyes narrowing as he pressed himself against the wall.
"Who the fuck are you?" Eric growled, but his voice came out uneven, the edge of fear barely masked by his bravado.
The shadow shifted, leaning closer to the door.
"Such language," the voice chided, the tone smooth, almost amused. "And here I thought you'd be more... grateful."
The words were honeyed, dripping with malice, and they sent an involuntary chill crawling up Eric's spine. He forced himself to stand, his movements slow and deliberate despite the cramped space. He stalked toward the door, his glowing eyes narrowing as he peered through the slit, trying to make out more of the figure.
"Grateful for what?" Eric hissed. "Being locked in here? Go to hell."
The shadow chuckled, a low, chilling sound that echoed through the tiny cell.
The shadow beyond the door stilled, and instead of the mocking chuckle Eric had expected, the voice returned, softer but imbued with a sinister edge that seemed to creep into the marrow of his bones.
"My child," the man whispered, his tone almost reverent, "do you wish to be free?"
The question lingered in the air, heavy, impossible to ignore. For the briefest moment, Eric's mind betrayed him. He pictured it—freedom. He imagined himself and Alaric together, far from this hell. No chains, no cell, no Elias.
But the fantasy soured almost as quickly as it bloomed. His jaw clenched, his claws dragging against the stone floor.
"Alaric could never be free," Eric hissed, his voice cracking under the weight of his frustration. "The witch has a hold on him—she owns him. And I won't leave him behind."
The shadow shifted, and through the slit, Eric could see a glint of teeth as the man smiled. The sound of his chuckle, deep and resonant, sent a cold shiver snaking down Eric's spine.
"Oh, my child," the man purred, his voice thick with dark amusement. "You misunderstand me. I'm not asking you to leave him behind."
Eric stiffened, his glowing eyes narrowing as he stepped closer to the door. The man's tone, that saccharine mix of mockery and promise, grated against every nerve.
"What do you mean?" Eric demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
The shadow leaned closer to the slit, and though Eric couldn't make out the man's features, he felt the weight of his gaze, as though those unseen eyes were piercing straight through him.
"I mean," the man said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "that I could help you free him, too. The witch's hold, her chains—they're strong, yes. But not unbreakable."
Eric's breath caught in his throat. He didn't trust this stranger—every fiber of his being screamed that this was a trap. And yet...
"How?" he asked, the word barely more than a whisper.
The man tilted his head, his smile growing wider. "I could guide you to your other half," he said, his voice practically dripping with allure. "You've heard the name, haven't you? The witch who holds your beloved Alaric's leash. You could face her, destroy her. Of course..." The smile faded slightly, replaced by a faint air of solemnity. "It would only last a few minutes.But in those few minutes, oh, the things you could accomplish.So make it count"
Eric stared at the shadow, his glowing eyes burning with a mixture of suspicion and longing. His hands trembled at his sides, the claws digging into his palms as he wrestled with the weight of the man's offer.
"And what's in it for you?" Eric growled, his voice laced with distrust.
The man's smile returned, broader now, almost predatory. "Oh, my child," he said softly, his voice thick with unspoken menace. "Let's just say... your success is my satisfaction. I have no need for petty rewards."
The man's whisper came again, softer now, like a dark lullaby. "Well what do you say ?"