Elyra didn't remember how he moved her from the summoning chamber to the small sleeping alcove hidden behind her ritual space. All she remembered was the darkness wrapping around her like smoke, her body floating in numbing cold before warmth returned with a sudden jolt.
She found herself lying atop her narrow bed, staring up at the low stone ceiling. Her limbs felt heavy, as though weighed down by invisible chains. The scent of sulfur and dark earth lingered around her, mingling with the faint floral notes of her drying herbs hanging from the ceiling beams.
"Drink."
The command rumbled through the small room, vibrating her bones. She turned her head weakly to see Rhaziel sitting on a stool near her bedside, his massive form making the cramped alcove feel even smaller. In his clawed hand, he held a silver cup carved with demonic sigils. The dark liquid inside rippled faintly, glowing with a subtle crimson light.
She tried to push herself up, but her strength faltered. He rose smoothly, his movements predatory yet graceful, and crouched beside the bed. His free hand slid behind her neck, lifting her with effortless ease as he pressed the cup to her lips.
"Drink, little witch," he murmured, golden eyes locked onto hers. "You are bound to me now. Your mortal body needs to adjust to our connection."
She resisted for a heartbeat, glaring at him with what little defiance remained in her battered body. His smile curved slowly, dark amusement flickering across his impossibly beautiful face.
"You can refuse," he whispered, voice silky and dangerous. "But know this – the bond will consume you from within if you do not strengthen it. Drink."
Her lips parted despite herself, the cool metal of the cup pressing against them. The liquid burned as it slid down her throat, tasting of iron and shadow, filling her with a warmth so intense it bordered on pain. Her body arched involuntarily, her back bowing as power surged through her veins, igniting every nerve with electric heat.
When the cup was empty, he set it aside and lowered her back onto the thin mattress. Her chest heaved with ragged breaths, her skin flushed with unnatural warmth. Rhaziel watched her intently, his gaze hungry yet analytical, like a scientist studying a newly captured specimen.
"What… was that?" she gasped, her voice hoarse.
He tilted his head slightly, dark hair falling over his brow, shadowing his glowing eyes. "Bloodwine," he replied softly. "Demon blood mixed with the wine of the Underworld. It nourishes the bond and feeds your magic… as it feeds me."
She shivered, bile rising in her throat at the knowledge of what she had consumed. But deeper within her chest, something darker stirred – a flicker of forbidden power awakening.
"Why me?" she whispered, her gaze fixed on the rough wool blanket beneath her fingers. "You could have killed me. Consumed me. Why bind yourself to me?"
His clawed hand reached out, curling around her wrist with unsettling gentleness. "Because, little witch," he said, leaning closer until his lips brushed her ear, "you summoned me with true purpose."
She frowned, confusion cutting through her fear. "Purpose?"
Rhaziel pulled back, studying her with a gaze that saw beyond flesh and bone, peeling back her soul's fragile layers. "Most who summon me seek power for vengeance or greed. You seek power for freedom. You seek to sever the chains they've bound you with. That…" His smile curved, fangs glinting in the candlelight. "…is something I understand intimately."
Elyra's chest tightened, a painful ache blooming where her heart beat frantically. Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to show weakness.
"I don't want to be like them," she whispered. "I don't want to lose myself to darkness."
His thumb brushed across her pulse point, lingering there as if feeling the fragile beat for himself. "You already live in darkness, witch," he murmured. "But I can teach you to wield it, to become its master rather than its victim."
She closed her eyes, the weight of exhaustion and despair pressing down on her. "At what cost?" she asked, her voice breaking.
Rhaziel's smile faded, his expression growing solemn, ancient shadows flickering across his features. "Everything worth having comes at a cost," he said quietly. "Your soul is already bound to mine. Whether you rise as a queen of shadows or die broken and forgotten… that choice is yours."
Silence fell between them, broken only by the faint crackle of dying candle flames. Slowly, his hand left her wrist, his warmth withdrawing as he rose to his full towering height.
"Rest now," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. "Tomorrow, we begin your true awakening."
As he turned away, his wings folding close to his body, Elyra opened her eyes to watch him disappear into the shadows beyond the doorway. A shiver coursed through her as the final candle flickered out, plunging the room into darkness.
Alone with the echo of his words, she curled onto her side, clutching the thin blanket to her chest as silent tears spilled down her cheeks.
"Everything worth having comes at a cost," she whispered to herself, the demon's scent still clinging to her skin.
In the silent darkness, bound to a creature of ruin, Elyra wondered if her soul would survive the price of freedom.