!!!Content Warning!!!
This chapter contains scenes of blood and violence, including descriptions of physical altercations, severe injuries, and death. Reader discretion is advised.
The forest, a moment before a sanctuary of ethereal twilight, was suddenly a cage. The stillness was broken not by the gentle hum of the wilderness, but by the snap of a twig and the cold, silken voice of Valerius.
"So," he purred, his form emerging from the dense mist, a cruel smile on his pale face. "My little trinket-thief has learned a new trick. A teleportation spell, how clever. It is a pity your energy expenditure for such a thing is so high."
Behind Valerius, another figure emerged from the shadows. The second man, the one who had shattered Milo's window, moved with a predatory grace, a thin, curved blade glinting in his hand.
Elias, who had been kneeling, shot to his feet, a low, savage growl rumbling in his chest. His wolf-like ears were flattened, his dark grass-green eyes blazing with a feral fire. He had a look on his face Milo had never seen before—a cold, ruthless fury, no longer tinged with fear, but with a fierce, absolute resolve. He moved to place himself firmly in front of Milo.
"Leave him," Elias commanded, his voice a low, terrifying growl. "He is not part of this."
Valerius's cruel smile widened. "Oh, but he is. A convenient tether to your fragile human emotions, Elias. A fine weakness. We will simply tear him out of you."
Elias didn't hesitate.
He moved.
Not with a burst of magic, but with a sudden, devastating physical force. He was a whirlwind of claws, teeth, and raw power. He met Valerius first, his fist connecting with Valerius's jaw with a sickening crack. The fight was brutal, a flash of motion in the dim light. Elias, exhausted as he was, fought with a savage grace that was both terrifying and beautiful. He moved like a dancer of death, evading, striking, his claws—Milo now saw they were razor-sharp, obsidian-black—glinting in the dark.
But Valerius and his companion were not weak. They were fast, and they fought with a viciousness born of long practice. They worked in tandem, one drawing Elias's attention while the other came at him with the curved blade. Elias, in his single-minded focus to protect Milo, took a hit. The curved blade sliced across his side, a deep, ragged wound that made him hiss in pain. A low, furious growl tore from his throat.
He killedthem.
It was a swift, brutal end. Elias, a beast of a man, tore through them with a ferocity Milo couldn't have imagined. There was the flash of a blade and a sharp, final gasp, and then silence. Valerius lay motionless on the forest floor, his cruel smile gone forever. The other man was a broken, crumpled heap a few feet away.
The silence that followed was broken only by Elias's heavy, labored breathing. He stood over the bodies, his shoulders slumped, the side of his shirt soaked with a dark, glistening red. He was trembling, a wave of exhaustion and pain finally crashing over him.
He looked at Milo, his dark green eyes filled with a weary, raw pain that made Milo's heart ache. "We cannot stay here," Elias whispered, his voice a strained rasp. "They may have… others." He reached out a hand, a silent plea for support.
Milo rushed forward, ignoring the fear still gripping his body. He took Elias's arm, helping him to his feet. Elias's body was a dead weight, his pain a palpable thing.
The journey back was another maelstrom of light and sound. Elias held on to Milo's hand this time, his knuckles white with the effort, his body shaking with the strain. They reappeared, gasping and disoriented, back in the hallway of Milo's apartment in Calin City. The shattered door was a testament to the brief, terrifying reality they had just escaped.
Milo guided Elias to the bathroom. He gently peeled the blood-soaked shirt from Elias's body, his hands shaking. The wound on Elias's side was long and deep, still weeping a thin line of blood. Another smaller cut was on his forehead, a dark line that ran just above his eyebrows.
"You're okay," Milo whispered, as if speaking the words would make it true. He wet a clean washcloth with warm water and gently dabbed at the blood on Elias's forehead. Elias stood still, his eyes closed, his body slumped against the bathroom counter. He looked utterly drained, all the power and ferocity gone, leaving only the wounded, vulnerable boy.
Milo finished with the cut on his forehead and moved to the jagged wound on his side, but his gaze was drawn to a faint trail of blood that ran from the corner of Elias's lip. He reached up, his thumb gentle, and began to wipe it away.
It was in that moment that Elias's eyes fluttered open.
They locked.
Milo's thumb was still on Elias's lip, his gaze focused on the task. But Elias's dark grass-green eyes, which had been so full of pain and weariness, were now wide and clear. He was no longer a fighter, or a hero, or a powerful being from another world.
He was just Elias.[1][2]
And in the depths of his eyes, Milo saw everything. Not the shame, not the fluster, not the disdain.
He saw a deep, profound love.
It was a love that was so pure and so powerful, it made Milo's breath catch in his throat.
The silence was total, broken only by the quiet hum of the apartment. Elias's gaze was unwavering, filled with a trusting warmth and a silent, raw affection that spoke of all the battles fought, all the moments of secret yearning, and all the vulnerability he had ever felt. Milo's hand was still on his lip, and their hearts, in that single, profound moment, were finally, truly in sync.
[1] Noo, hes a big fluff ball who LOVES Milo! hehe~
[2] Noo, hes a big fluff ball who LOVES Milo! hehe~