Chapter 8: Love and Sacrifice

The moon was high in the velvety sky, bathing the peaceful woodland clearing where Damon and Elysia had set up camp for the night in a silvery glow. The pleasant crackling of the fire contrasted sharply with the chilly tension that had been building between them. They had been traveling together for days, with fate entwining their paths, but tonight seemed different—more personal and heated.

With his red eyes glued to the flickering flames, Damon perched himself on a toppled log. Confusion and fury swirled in his mind like a raging storm. This was a sensation he had never experienced before: an overwhelming attraction to Elysia, the fallen angel who had somehow grown to be his closest and most reliable friend. She constantly caused him trouble, testing him at every turn; he was unable to ignore the odd solace her presence offered him.

Elysia, who was seated across from him, looked up from the cut on her wing. Their previous combat had been a nasty clash with a gang of renegade demons that had injured her. When he saw her in peril, Damon's normally icy detachment gave way to an almost primal wrath, and he battled like a man possessed. She watched him silently now, tending to her wound, feeling the tempest building within of him.

At last, she said, "Damon," in a forceful yet kind voice. "You haven't been around recently. What are your thoughts?

He didn't respond right away. Rather, he kept staring into the fire as though he were looking for answers there. How was he able to possibly explain the internal struggle he was fighting? For him, the concept of having empathy or feeling anything other than disdain for another human being was alien. And yet here he was, struggling with feelings he didn't know how to label.

He curtly replied, "I'm fine," but even he could tell that he was under pressure.

Elysia was not persuaded. He felt a chill go down his back as she got up from where she was standing and sat down next to him. He could sense her body heat and the subtle lavender aroma that lingered on her when they were near enough. It was exasperating.

"You're lying," she remarked tactfully. "It's evident in your eyes. You're having trouble with something.

Damon's knuckles turned as he balled his fist white. This was a new experience for him—being seen and exposed. He was unable to stop the well-constructed walls around himself from collapsing.

"Elysia, you should avoid me," he said, his voice full of caution. "You shouldn't put your confidence in me. I'm a monster, not a hero.

With steadfast eyes, she gazed at him. Damon, you're not a monster. Your options are not constrained by your education.

Her comments felt like a blow to his body. More than what the people in charge had told him? Given her knowledge of his abilities, how could she have said that? Being aware of the darkness that engulfed him?

"What makes you concerned?" His voice was thick with passion as he inquired. "What matters to you, what happens to me?"

Elysia paused, giving Damon the impression that she wouldn't respond. But after inhaling deeply, she remarked, "Because I see something in you, Damon." anything you are unable to perceive in yourself. You've come to my rescue more times than I can remember, and you did it out of choice rather than because the system made you. I know there's more to you than just the Demon King, even if you choose to act that way.

Her words were like a dagger to his skin, revealing raw flesh. He was tempted to strike out and shove her away, but he refrained. Something about her—her soft strength, her unshakable faith in him—made him want to think, if only for a little while, that she was accurate.

His voice was hardly audible above a whisper as he said, "I don't want to feel this way." "I want no part of caring about you."

His admission broke Elysia's heart, but she didn't back down. Rather, she extended her hand and delicately touched his. He felt a surge of warmth as the touch was electrifying.

She said, "You don't have to fight it, Damon." It's acceptable to be concerned. It's acceptable to experience emotions.

Damon shut his eyes, his determination wavering. How had things ended up here? How could something as basic and complex as love have driven the dreaded Demon King to his knees?

His voice quivered as he added, "I'm not good for you." "I'll only cause you suffering."

"Perhaps," Elysia steadily said. But I'd rather deal with that suffering beside you than on my own.

Her remarks caused him to fail. His palm cupped her cheek as he turned to face her before he could stop himself or even think. He felt his breath blending with hers as he leaned closer, her skin feeling warm and velvety to the touch.

He said "Elysia," his voice full of passion. "I'm not worthy of you."

Her grin was tiny and sad. "Perhaps not. However, I am here to stay and will not be leaving.

Damon felt something break inside him at that same instant. He drew nearer to her, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that was as sweet as it was urgent. The kiss was a result of dread of desire and the knowledge that he was losing the war with his own emotions.

In return, Elysia drew him nearer by encircling his neck with her arms. The kiss intensified, becoming into a maze of lips and breath, a genuine manifestation of the feelings they had been holding within for a very long time.

They were breathing heavily and laying their foreheads on each other when they eventually drew apart. For the first time in a long time, Damon felt anything other than wrath or rage, and his heart was racing in his chest. He experienced...life.

His voice was raspy as he added, "I don't know what this means." I don't want to lose you, though.

Elysia slipped her fingers through his hair and said, "You won't."

"Damon, we'll work this out together. We'll deal with whatever comes up collectively.

Damon wished he could trust her. He yearned to think that he was capable of more, that he could evolve. But a part of him, the one that had lived in darkness for so long, still clung to the conviction that he was undeserving of love, unworthy of forgiveness.

Sitting there, arms encircling each other, Damon silently vowed. Whatever it took, whatever the cost, he would defend Elysia. Even if it meant giving up his wicked nature—the exact thing he had battled so hard to preserve.

Damon came to the realization that there was something or someone worth fighting for for the first time in his life. And that insight, more than any penalty the system could possibly administer, scared him.