CH - 8 -

Zilias fell silent, his heart racing in his chest as Seraphel moved even closer, their bodies almost touching.

"Good boy." Seraphel purred, his gaze roaming over Zilias' trembling form. "Now, let's get you out of these stiff clothes. You look uncomfortable." He started to undo the buttons of Zilias' shirt, his touch surprisingly gentle and meticulous.

As the fabric was slowly pulled away, revealing more of Zilias' pale skin, Seraphel's gaze darkened, his eyes taking in every detail hungrily.

"You have scars." he noticed, his fingers tracing over one of the scars on Zilias' torso.

Zilias flinched at the touch, feeling exposed under Seraphel's gaze. "They're just some old injuries. Nothing serious." he muttered, but his voice betrayed his anxiety. Seraphel cocked an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in his gaze. "Are you sure? They look pretty serious to me. Who gave them to you?"

Zilias looked away, not wanting to meet the dragon's gaze. "It's really not important... just stupid accidents." Seraphel wasn't satisfied with that answer. He grabbed Zilias' chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.

"Don't try to lie to me, little lamb." he said softly, his tone almost threatening. "I can tell when you're not telling the truth. Now who gave you those scars?" Zilias felt trapped under the dragon's intense gaze. He knew he couldn't keep it a secret any longer.

"My... my father." he whispered, his voice barely audible. Seraphel's gaze darkened even further, his grip on Zilias' chin tightening just a bit.

"Is that so?" he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Your father did this to you?"

Zilias didn't respond, but his lack of protest was confirmation enough.

Seraphel's gaze roamed over the scars on Zilias' body again, his expression unreadable. "How often did this happen?" he asked, his tone still calm yet holding a dangerous undertone.

Zilias looked away, ashamed and humiliated. "It's not important..." he began, but was stopped when Seraphel suddenly lifted him up and turned him around, pinning him against the bed.

Zilias let out a startled gasp, his heart racing in his chest. Seraphel's body was pressed against his back, his breath tickling the sensitive skin on his neck. Seraphel leaned in closer, his lips practically touching Zilias' ear. "Don't try to avoid the question." he said, his voice a low growl. "How often did your father hurt you?" Zilias felt trapped, unable to escape the dragon's overwhelming presence. He felt so small and vulnerable, like a mouse cornered by a hawk.

"More... more often than I'd like to admit." he whispered, his heart feeling like it would leap out of his chest. Seraphel's grip on Zilias' shoulders tightened, his fingers digging into the skin almost painfully.

"And why did he do that?" he said, his voice still soft but with a barely contained anger behind it. Zilias felt a lump form in his throat, the memories flooding back to him. "Because I... I disappointed him." he whispered, "Because I wasn't strong enough, or fast enough, or good enough."

Seraphel's expression darkened even further, his eyes flashing with an intense anger. He pushed Zilias down onto the bed, pinning him down with his body.

"And he thought hurting you would make you stronger?" he asked, his voice little more than a snarl. Zilias let out a small whimper, feeling completely at the dragon's mercy. He couldn't move, couldn't escape, could only lie there and helplessly try to control his emotions.

"He... he said it was to... to make me tougher, to make me better." he managed to get out, his voice trembling. Seraphel's eyes narrowed, his expression turning into a snarl. "That's just a coward's excuse, wanting to justify his own cruelty by telling himself he's doing it for your own good."

He leaned in closer, his face now mere inches from Zilias'. "Do you honestly believe that he did all this because he cared for you? Do you really think that he has any love for you?" The question struck a nerve in Zilias. Deep down, he had always wondered about that. Could his father have even the slightest bit of affection for him? He knew he was a disappointment, weak and pitiful, but he wanted to believe that his father did love him, in his own twisted way.

"I... I don't know..." he whispered, unable to meet Seraphel's gaze. "I want to believe... that he loves me."

The words sounded so pathetic even to his own ears. Seraphel let out a scoff. "You really are naïve, aren't you? Your father doesn't love you, not in the way a parent should. He only sees you as another pawn in his game, a tool to be used and discarded at his convenience."

He paused, his grip on Zilias' shoulders tightening even further. "You say you want to believe that he loves you, yet you bear the scars of his abuse. Where's the love in that, little lamb?" Zilias felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, the truth of Seraphel's words hitting him like a tidal wave. He had always known, deep down, that his father's treatment was wrong, but hearing it out loud... it felt like the last remnants of hope crumbling away.

"I... I know, deep down, that you're right," he whispered, his voice cracking. "But I can't help hoping... because if I don't, what else do I have?" Seraphel's gaze softened just a bit at seeing Zilias' obvious distress. He lifted his hand and gently wiped away a tear that had rolled down Zilias' cheek.

"You have me," he said, his voice still firm but with a touch of gentleness. "And I promise you, I will never hurt you like your father did. You're mine now, and I take care of what's mine." Zilias looked up at Seraphel, his heart fluttering in his chest at the dragon's words. He felt a strange mix of emotions wash over him. Fear, hope, gratitude, and something else. Something he couldn't quite put a name to.

The dragon let go of his shoulders, trailing his hand down his chest and stomach, his touch almost tender.

"Don't cry," Seraphel murmured. "You're too pretty for that."