Your heat is here

Reginald watched him, his expression unreadable as Elias forced down each spoonful of broth. The silence between them was thick, weighted with things neither of them wished to acknowledge.

"You were fortunate," Reginald said at last, his voice measured. "Had I arrived even a moment later…" He trailed off, his sharp gaze narrowing. "I doubt I would have been the one standing here now."

Elias did not react.

He had not been fortunate.

He had failed.

Reginald exhaled, shaking his head. "I don't know what you were thinking, but you've made things worse for yourself."

A bitter laugh nearly escaped Elias, but his throat was too raw for anything more than a faint exhale.

Worse? His existence had always been suffering. Whether scrubbing floors or fetching meals, whether ignored or humiliated—his life had never been his own.

What more could Cassius possibly do to him?

Reginald seemed to sense his thoughts. His mouth pressed into a thin line. "You don't understand, do you?"

Elias finally looked up at him.

Reginald leaned forward, his gaze colder now and sharper.

"You think he saved you," he said. "You think this is mercy?" He gestured to the fine sheets, the meal, the chains. "But Cassius has never shown kindness. He does not waste his time on things that do not interest him."

Elias remained silent.

Reginald's voice dropped lower. "And right now, Elias, you have his full attention."

A slow, sinking dread settled in Elias's stomach.

He had never wanted Cassius's attention. He had spent years trying to avoid it.

Now, there would be no escape.

Reginald stood, gathering the tray. "Rest while you can," he said, not unkindly. "You won't get the chance again."

And with that, he turned and left.

The door shut softly behind him.

Elias stared at the flickering candlelight, his wrists aching beneath the weight of the chains.

He did not move. He had nowhere to go.

Time passed in heavy silence. Elias remained where he was, staring at the ceiling, the flickering candle casting shadows across the lavish room. His body felt numb, but his mind churned, restless with thoughts he did not want to face.

Cassius had not returned.

A part of him should have been relieved. But the longer the silence stretched, the more uneasy he became.

Reginald's words lingered in his mind. Cassius does not waste his time on things that do not interest him.

He closed his eyes.

What did that mean for him now?

The answer came sooner than expected.

The door creaked open, and Elias forced himself to remain still as footsteps approached. The air shifted, the presence unmistakable even without words.

Cassius had returned!

Elias did not turn his head, but he could feel the weight of Cassius's gaze on him. The slow, deliberate way he stepped closer, as if measuring something unseen.

The bed dipped slightly as Elias's fingers curled into the sheets.

A gloved hand reached out, fingers tracing over the bruises on his throat. The touch was light, almost thoughtful, but Elias did not mistake it for gentleness.

"You look at me as if I were a monster," Cassius murmured, voice smooth yet devoid of warmth.

Elias did not answer, wishing the earth could swallow him up.

A sharp tug at the collar of his shirt, and the fabric loosened. The cool air against his skin made him shudder involuntarily. Cassius's hand followed, fingers trailing down his exposed collarbone with an air of idle curiosity.

"I have never given you a reason to fear me," Cassius continued, almost thoughtful. "And yet, you do."

Elias shut his eyes, forcing himself to breathe evenly.

That was a lie. Cassius had never needed to give him a reason—his presence alone had been enough.

A gloved hand pressed against his hip, firm and possessive. The touch did not linger. Instead, Cassius moved, shifting so that his breath was warm against Elias's ear.

"You should be grateful," he murmured, his tone carrying the faintest trace of amusement. "Most in your position would welcome such an opportunity."

Elias's hands clenched into fists against the sheets.

He had known this was coming.

He had known the moment he had woken up in this bed, shackled to Cassius's side.

A sharp tug at his waist. The sound of fabric shifting was soon heard.

Elias sucked in a breath, forcing himself not to recoil. His body felt too warm, feverish. His mind was sluggish, unable to keep up with the growing discomfort pooling in his limbs.

Cassius paused and moments passed after.

Then, without warning, his hand pressed firmly against Elias's stomach.

Elias jerked violently, a strangled sound escaping his throat as a wave of unbearable heat crashed through his body. His limbs trembled, muscles locking painfully as an all-consuming fire clawed at his insides.

Cassius's grip tightened, his expression unreadable behind the mask.

Elias's breathing came in short, rapid gasps, his body betraying him as sweat dampened his skin.

Cassius was silent for a long moment. Then, slowly, his hand withdrew.

"How interesting."

Elias barely heard him. His head swam, his body burning from the inside out.

Fingers tilted his chin up, forcing his dazed gaze to meet Cassius's masked scrutiny.

"You are in heat," Cassius said, his tone eerily calm.

Elias's stomach twisted violently at his words.

No.

Not now. Not here!

He tried to pull away, but his body refused to obey, his strength failing him entirely.

Cassius exhaled, his fingers lingering against Elias's flushed skin before he finally drew back.

"Relax," he murmured. "You will not be leaving this bed until your heat has passed."

Elias shuddered, horror settling deep in his chest as Cassius rose from the bed.

Elias's mind was a haze of heat and confusion.

He hadn't even noticed.

Fifteen years in Ravenspire had taught him to track every shift in his body, to suppress every reaction that could make him vulnerable. Yet, somehow, his heat had crept up on him without any warning.

How?

His body burned, each breath stoking the fire coiling low in his stomach. His skin was overly sensitive, every brush of fabric against his body sending sharp shivers down his spine. A dull ache throbbed deep within him, twisting, curling, growing unbearable with every passing second.

He needed—

Elias bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, trying to force clarity through the thick fog of instinct clouding his mind. But it was useless. The craving was there, raw and relentless. His body knew what it wanted. What it needed.

To be touched. To be held. To be filled and—

No!

Elias clenched his fists, the cold bite of the chains against his wrists grounding him for only a fleeting moment before another wave of unbearable heat crashed through him. A soft, broken sound escaped his lips before he could swallow it down.

He was losing control.

He had never let it get this bad before.

Every heat, he had locked himself away, endured the agony in silence until it passed. But now—now he was trapped in Cassius's bed, his body exposed, his instincts demanding relief, and the only person in the room was the last man he wanted to see him like this.

His breath came in rapid, shallow gasps. His thighs pressed together, but it did nothing to ease the ache. His body wanted more. His body wanted to be touched.

Wanted to be bred.

Elias's stomach twisted violently at the thought, shame and disgust warring with the overwhelming desire threatening to consume him whole.

No. He refused over and over again.

He would not beg.

He would not let Cassius see him like this.

But as another wave of heat surged through him, leaving him shaking and gasping, Elias knew—

That this time, he might not have a choice.