Elias wasn't sure when the nightmare began—only that he couldn't wake up from it.
The courtyard was gone. The moonlight replaced with something colder, vast and starless. His feet sank into ash, and the sky bled like a cracked wound. He stood alone, trembling, clothes ripped, magic pulsing like a second heartbeat in his palms. It felt feral. Untamed.
Everything around him… burned.
Twisted trees clawed upward, their branches like broken bones. A thick fog rolled in low, coiling around his ankles. Somewhere in the distance, something howled—something that didn't sound mortal.
And Rael was nowhere.
Elias's breath came fast, uneven. He spun, panic clawing up his throat. "Rael?" he called, voice too small in this endless void.
Nothing answered.
And then—
A whisper. Just behind him.
"Liar."
Elias turned, heart pounding. There was no one.
Again.
"Liar. Traitor. Weak."
This time it came from inside his own head.
The mist thickened, pulling shapes from the shadows. Dozens of them. Faces—his professors, his classmates, his father, even his younger self—all with hollow eyes and mouths dripping tar.
"You let it in," one said.
"You let him in," another hissed.
"You gave it your body," a voice behind him whispered, soft and cruel.
"You liked it."
The ground shook. The ash split open beneath his feet, revealing jagged veins of black-red magic writhing like worms. The scent of sulfur stung his nose. His own hands began to shift—nails darkening, veins glowing. The demon magic inside him was rising like a tide, like it had finally found the crack in his mind it needed.
"No—" he whispered, shaking his head. "No, I didn't ask for this—"
"You let it happen," said the voice of his mother, smiling with a mouth full of rot. "You wanted to be strong. Now you're nothing but his whore."
"Shut up—!"
"You're not real!" he shouted.
But the nightmare didn't stop.
The shadows surged forward, claws outstretched, magic screaming inside him. And just as the first set of jagged hands closed around his throat—
He woke up.
Elias bolted upright in bed, gasping. His shirt stuck to his skin with sweat. His fingers trembled violently.
The dorm room was cold. Silent. Empty.
Rael wasn't there.
He looked around. The chair in the corner was vacant. No coat. No boots. No demon.
Panic twisted inside him—irrational, sharp.
He reached out across the bond that had started to grow between them, but all he felt was static. Distance. Absence.
He pulled on his robe with shaking hands and stormed through the empty halls, not caring how late it was. His magic buzzed beneath his skin—too loud, too wild. The nightmare still clung to his bones.
He checked the old garden.
Nothing.
The hidden courtyard.
Empty.
And then—down by the underground tunnels, the ones sealed off by rusted gates and old enchantments—he felt it.
Magic.
Not his.
But familiar.
Dark. And older than even Rael had let on.
He found the gate wide open.
The torches inside were dead.
The silence… oppressive.
He stepped inside, wand glowing softly, breath shallow. The air here was different. Not just old—forgotten. Heavy with magic that hadn't been touched in centuries.
Then he saw Rael.
Kneeling at the center of the old ritual chamber, head bowed, golden hair falling over his face. He was shirtless, the skin of his back glowing faintly with runes that weren't there before—deep, demonic etchings that pulsed with dark energy.
Rael didn't turn.
"Go back," he said.
Elias froze. "What the hell is this?"
"You weren't supposed to see this."
"Too late."
Rael stood, slowly. The markings shifted across his skin like they were alive. "I come here to remember who I was."
Elias stepped forward. "What does that mean?"
Rael didn't answer.
Instead, he looked up—eyes glowing faintly, darker than usual. "I was a prince once, Elias. Not in name. Not in title. In power."
Elias blinked. "A demon prince?"
Rael's jaw tightened. "They called me The Breaker. The one who tore the boundary between realms. I was… worshipped. And feared."
Elias stared at him. "Then what are you doing here? With me?"
Rael looked away. "Running."
Elias didn't know what hurt more: the truth or the fact Rael hadn't told him sooner.
"You used me," Elias said softly.
"No," Rael said, turning, voice suddenly sharp. "I wanted you. I want you. That has nothing to do with what I was."
"But everything to do with what I'm becoming."
Rael's silence confirmed it.
Elias stepped back, hands clenching at his sides. "You said you'd stay."
Rael's expression flickered with pain. "I will."
"Then stop hiding from me."
"I'm not hiding—"
"Yes, you are. Every time I close my eyes, you're gone. Every time I let you in, you pull away. You keep touching me like you'll leave again, and I can't—" Elias broke off, breathing hard. "I can't keep waking up alone."
Rael stepped toward him, and for once, there was no charm, no seduction—just fear. Just longing.
"I don't know how to be with someone," Rael said. "Not like this. Not without destroying it."
Elias swallowed the knot in his throat. "Then destroy me."
Rael froze.
"I don't care what you were," Elias said. "Just tell me what you want to be now. With me."
Rael looked at him like he didn't deserve the question. Then, slowly, he walked forward and pulled Elias into his arms.
"I want to be yours."
And this time, Elias didn't wake up alone.