Whispers in the Dark

The moment they stepped back inside the tower, Vael got to work.

Lioren wasn't sure what he was doing exactly, but the demon moved with purpose. His hands were steady, his focus sharp, his aura thrumming with quiet intensity.

Lioren watched for a moment, lingering near the entrance of the chamber. His own thoughts were a tangled mess, the events of the night settling over him like a weight he hadn't yet learned to carry.

Finally, he turned away.

"I'll be back," he murmured.

Vael barely acknowledged him, too lost in whatever task he had assigned himself. "Don't get yourself killed out there, Lio."

Lioren huffed softly, shaking his head. "I'll try."

Then, he climbed.

The wind was sharp at the tower's peak, cutting through the thin air, carrying the heavy scent of burning embers and stone.

Lioren stood at the edge, staring at the expanse of Kur'thaal's endless night.

The abyss stretched before him—a world of demons and shadows, of fire and ruin.

And now, it was his world too.

The thought sent a shudder through him.

Everything had changed so suddenly.

One moment, he was an angel—a warrior of Asphodel, his path clear, his duty unshaken.

Now, he was here.

A foreigner. A fugitive. An exile.

And yet…

Lioren closed his eyes, inhaling slowly.

He had expected to feel broken.

But instead, he felt—

Lighter.

Why?

The answer was already there, lingering beneath the surface of his thoughts. But he wasn't ready to say it. Not yet.

He exhaled, his breath disappearing into the cold air. His heart was too loud in his chest, his thoughts too restless.

And then—

He wasn't alone anymore.

Lioren felt the presence before he saw him.

A slow, creeping sensation—like being watched from the darkness.

Then, Asmodan stepped into view.

He moved like liquid heat, his form cutting through the night like something made of molten gold and shadow. His horns curled back from his skull, sharp and regal, his golden eyes glowing with a dangerous hunger.

Lioren's body went rigid.

The demon smiled.

"Strange place for an angel," Asmodan mused, voice rich, deep.

Lioren didn't respond immediately. His instincts screamed at him, his body tensing like prey in the presence of a predator.

"I'm not an angel," he finally said.

Asmodan chuckled. "You can say that all you like, Lioren. But your body tells a different story."

Lioren's jaw tightened. "Why are you here?"

Asmodan tilted his head, taking slow steps closer—not invading his space, but testing it.

"I was curious," he admitted. "I saw you tonight. Watched you move. Watched the way you looked at this world."

His golden eyes gleamed.

"And I wanted to know—how much of you is still untouched?"

Lioren stiffened.

Asmodan's smile sharpened. "Tell me, little angel," he purred. "Have you ever performed in any carnal activities?"

Lioren's breath caught.

His hands curled into fists, his wings—**no, his back—**tensing instinctively.

"That's none of your concern."

Asmodan's grin widened. "Ah. But it is."

Silence stretched between them, thick with something unspoken.

Then, Lioren made a mistake.

He hesitated.

Just for a second.

Just long enough for Asmodan to see.

Lioren exhaled sharply. "No," he admitted, his voice steady despite the unease crawling down his spine.

For a moment, Asmodan said nothing.

Then—his golden eyes burned brighter.

Lioren felt it like a shift in the air.

A hunger. A dark, possessive desire.

Something deep and old and wrong.

Then—Asmodan laughed.

A slow, wicked sound.

"You really shouldn't have told me that," he murmured.

And then—he was gone.

Just as suddenly as he had come.

The air around Lioren felt colder.

He exhaled shakily, forcing himself to breathe.

What the hell was that?

Lioren descended the tower, his thoughts still tangled, his body still tense from the encounter.

But as he stepped into the chamber—he stopped.

Vael was standing in the center of the room, setting up something.

Lioren blinked.

It was a bed.

Not an elegant one, not something crafted with care, but an effort.

Soft, makeshift, pulled together from the limited resources Vael had.

Lioren's chest ached.

Vael, noticing his stare, immediately fumbled for an excuse.

"I—It's not a big deal," he muttered, scratching the back of his head. "I just figured you wouldn't want to sleep on the floor, and—"

Lioren stared at him.

Vael cleared his throat, suddenly avoiding his gaze. "I, uh. I only have enough material for one, so if you don't mind—" He gestured vaguely. "Sharing."

Lioren smiled.

Soft. Warm.

"I don't mind," he said. And he meant it.

Vael's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Good."

They settled in, side by side. Close, but not too close.

The warmth of their bodies filled the space between them.

The room was quiet, save for the slow, steady breathing between them.

Then, Lioren spoke.

"What you said," he murmured. "At the trial."

Vael went still.

Lioren turned his head, silver eyes soft but searching. "That you thought you were in love with me."

Vael's throat worked. He exhaled slowly. "Yeah."

Lioren hesitated, then—softer.

"Do you still feel that way?"

Vael's pulse hammered in his ears.

He turned, meeting Lioren's gaze fully.

The world outside was dark. The Abyss stretched endlessly around them.

But here—

Here, there was only Lioren.

"I do," Vael admitted.

Lioren's breath caught.

And then—he moved.

Slowly. Carefully.

Vael didn't pull away.

Their lips met—soft, tentative, searching.

A slow ignition. A quiet storm.

Lioren's fingers curled against the fabric of Vael's shirt, his body tilting closer.

Vael's hand found his waist, grounding him.

The kiss deepened—brief, but enough.

Enough to leave them breathless.

Enough to make the night feel different.

When they finally pulled away, neither spoke.

They didn't need to.

Lioren let out a small, shaky breath.

Vael smirked slightly. "That was new."

Lioren huffed a quiet laugh. "Yeah."

Vael pulled him closer. "Go to sleep, Lio."

Lioren smiled against his shoulder.

For the first time since falling from the sky—

He felt safe.