But beauty didn’t make him any less dangerous

Reginald walked toward the kitchens, his expression unreadable as he prepared to deliver the news of Elias's unexpected promotion. It was an odd decision—one he still struggled to understand—but Cassius's orders were absolute.

Not doing it would mean hurting I'm himself.

Yet, as he stepped into the warm, bustling space, his gaze swept across the workers, searching for the familiar dark-haired servant.

Elias was nowhere to be found.

Reginald's frown deepened. He caught the nearest worker's attention. "Where is Elias?"

The servant, a young boy with flour-dusted hands, blinked in confusion. "I don't know, sir. He was here earlier, but he left."

"Left?" Reginald's voice turned sharp. "When?"

"A little while ago… he looked strange." The boy hesitated. "Didn't say anything, just walked off."

A chill crept down Reginald's spine.

He turned on his heel, striding out of the kitchen.

Elias was not someone who shirked his duties. If he had left in the middle of his shift, something was very wrong.

Reginald's pace quickened, his mind racing. The boy had always been quiet, withdrawn—but never reckless or foolish.

He moved through the hallways with purpose, scanning every corridor, every shadowed alcove, every servant's passage—until at last, a terrible realization struck him.

The servant quarters.

His stomach twisted.

Reginald broke into a run.

Warning! Ahead is a suicidal attempt.

Elias stood on the chair, fingers adjusting the rough rope that encircled his throat.

His movements were calm.

There was no fear. No hesitation.

Just quiet acceptance.

He had given fifteen years of his life to Ravenspire. Endured every demand, every cruelty, every expectation.

And now, Cassius wanted more.

A personal valet.

News travelled faster in the walls, things like promotions could never been hidden. Elias had unfortunately be laughed at by the Cassius's guards when he passed by. Saying all he needed was to show his pretty little hole and his status had already boosted to that of the master's personal valet.

He knew what that meant. He had seen what happened to those who were brought into Cassius's orbit. None of them ever walked away unchanged.

Elias had nothing left to give.

His breath left him in a quiet exhale as he kicked the chair from beneath him.

Pain.

The rope burned as it tightened around his throat. His lungs seized, his body convulsed instinctively against the suffocating grip.

His vision blurred.

Then, suddenly—

A loud crash.

Hands grabbed him, wrenching him from the noose. The rope snapped, and he collapsed into strong arms, his body limp and unresponsive.

The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was Reginald's face—eyes sharp with something Elias was too far gone to name.

*********

Soft.

Warm.

Elias woke slowly, his body aching, his throat feeling raw.

He shifted slightly, only to hear the unmistakable clink of metal.

We're these chains?.

His wrists were bound.

Panic surged through him, but before he could react, something stirred beside him.

A blond head rested against the mattress, breath slow and steady.

Reginald? No not even his bed could be this soft, and he knew this familiar softness.

It belonged to Cassius.

Elias swallowed painfully, his mind sluggish as he tried to understand.

Why?

Why was he still alive?

Elias's return to consciousness was slow, his body weighed down by exhaustion and the lingering ache in his throat. The last thing he remembered was the tightening of the rope, the world dimming around him, and the faint relief of knowing it would all finally end. Yet, against all expectations, he was still here.

Warmth surrounded him, foreign and suffocating. The surface beneath him was far too soft, unlike the hard, narrow cot he was accustomed to in the servants' quarters.

A thick blanket covered him, holding in heat that his body did not deserve. He could feel the faint rise and fall of breath beside him—someone was beside him.

Instinct urged him to move, to distance himself from whoever had intruded upon his misery. However, the cold bite of metal against his wrists stopped him before he could even try. His hands were bound.

His heartbeat pounded violently in his ears as his gaze darted around the dimly lit room. The flickering candlelight revealed details that sent ice through his veins. The room was far too lavish, filled with rich fabrics, dark wood, and an air of quiet authority. It was not a place meant for a servant. It was not a place meant for him.

Realization settled in like a stone in his stomach.

This was Cassius's chamber.

The haze in his eyes has finally cleared as he began to tremble.

Dread coiled tightly in his chest as he slowly turned his head. His breath caught when he found himself face-to-face with the last person he wanted to see.

Cassius laid beside him, close enough that Elias could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Even now, he remained masked, the dark, elegant piece obscuring most of his features. And yet, for the first time, Elias could make out the shape of what lay beneath.

The strong curve of a jawline, the high cheekbones, and the golden hair that spilled across the pillow. There was no doubt—beneath that mask, Cassius must have been beautiful.

But beauty did not make him less dangerous.

Cassius's piercing gaze had already settled on him, watching in silence. Even without seeing his full expression, Elias could feel the weight of his scrutiny. Every breath felt magnified under that cold, assessing stare.

Elias swallowed, the action sending a sharp pain through his raw throat. He had failed. He had tried to leave this world behind, and yet he was still here, shackled to the one man he had always tried to avoid.

A hand lifted, reaching out with unhurried manner. Elias flinched before he could stop himself, but Cassius did not pull back. His fingers trailed lightly over the bruises forming around Elias's throat, the touch was deceptively gentle.

"You truly are a fool," Cassius murmured, his voice smooth yet carrying an unmistakable chill. "Did you believe death would be a kinder fate than what awaits you here?"

Elias had no answer. Every thought scattered under the weight of Cassius's presence.

Cassius did not appear to expect a response. His fingers lingered for a moment longer before he withdrew them, his gaze never once leaving Elias's face. The silence between them was thick with unspoken meaning, the air far too heavy to breathe easily.

Then, Cassius shifted closer, his breath warm even through the mask. His next words were quiet, deliberate, and absolute.

"I will be the one to decide when you are allowed to leave me."