The Devil's obsession with the Heiress

[Music recommendation: Jason Fervento - Melodia 10]

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In the dimly lit room, illuminated only by the cold glow of the full moon, a tall man stood with an unconscious woman cradled in his arms.

He peered down at her for a few seconds, tracing her delicate features with an unreadable expression, before finally walking toward the bed in his large suite.

As he gently set her down, he planned to step away, only to realise she still had a tight grip on his shirt, refusing to let him go.

A tiny frown settled on his angelic face as he reached to peel her hands away from his clothes. That was when he noticed small cuts marring her once flawless skin.

His heart gave an unfamiliar jolt, and with it came a surge of anger so sharp it bordered on violence.

The sight of her blood trailing down her arms stirred something far darker within him.

His icy blue eyes fluctuated before burning bright red, with the black slits making an appearance once again.

’Kill... kill them all who dare touch what is ours...’ The voice of his darkness slithered through his mind, feeding the fury already building within him.

Thick, heavy smoke began to seep from his body, coiling into the air around him as his gaze remained locked on her wounds.

His jaw clenched so tightly it felt as though his teeth might shatter under the pressure.

"I’ll fucking kill them all," Gavriel finally hissed, breaking the silence, the only difference being that there was no one to listen to him at the moment.

Yet, with this rage, his desire for his "little rose" only intensified. The screams, which had temporarily faded into background noise when he teleported back to the hotel for her, began to ring in his ears once again.

The collective torment was almost too much for him to bear. He could feel his hands shifting... his deadly claws, which never appeared unless he willed them to, began to unsheathe while he was still holding her hands.

As his grip unconsciously tightened, a small whimper escaped her lips, and her unconscious face betrayed signs of discomfort.

That single sound snapped through him, causing him to freeze and jolt him back to reality. The haze cleared just enough for him to realise what he was doing or what he was about to do.

He knew he should step away and put distance between them before he lost control completely.

But he didn’t.

Something held him there.... Something stronger than his rage. Something that compelled him to stay... to remain by her side... to not leave her alone. At least not tonight.

With that thought, he closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath of her intoxicating scent, which, to his surprise, once again helped subdue the darkness within him that had been threatening to spiral out of control.

Exhaling slowly, he opened his eyes. They still burned a vivid red, though the slits had faded.

Carefully, he eased her hands away from him and used the moment to step back, disappearing briefly into the shadows of the room. A few seconds later, he returned to her side, this time with a damp towel in his hand.

He did not question what he was doing, nor what compelled him to do it.

He simply sat beside her and began to clean her wounds with quiet patience, his movements careful.

Once he was done, he glanced at the blood-soaked towel in his hand. The next moment, his eyes flared, and the fabric caught fire, dissolving into nothingness within seconds.

Turning his attention back to her, he lifted his hand and let his fingers hover over the cuts on her arms. Darkness seeped from his touch, closing the wounds gradually.

He could have healed them completely.

But he chose not to, because he knew one thing for certain.... this little rose was far too perceptive. And she would question everything the moment she woke.

His red eyes lingered on her face once again, the same face he had seen in sleep before, yet the effect remained unchanged every single time.

It calmed him in a way he did not understand, bringing an unfamiliar sense of peace to a cursed being who believed he deserved none of it.

Gavriel did not know what drew him to her, but slowly, almost without thought, he leaned over her.

His breath brushed against her lips, and with it came another surge of darkness, of tormented memories and bloodlust, forcing a low groan from him.

A slight sheen of sweat covered his forehead.

Slowly, he lowered himself further until he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

He inhaled her scent, which, to his surprise, managed to leash the beast within once again.

And this time, he stopped fighting the comfort she was unknowingly providing on this night of the full moon.

He stopped questioning, stopped resisting, and simply shifted to lie beside her. Holding her as tightly as he could, he kept his face buried against her neck, refusing to let go even as the darkness clouded his eyes.

For the very first time in his existence, Gavriel finally succumbed to a deep, peaceful sleep on the night of the full moon... the very night he had always dreaded.

With the vivid memory of holding her close that night in Spain playing in his mind, Gavriel’s eyelids finally fluttered open, revealing those pools of blue.

He remained still, staring at the ceiling wordlessly.

One hand rested behind his head, while the other lay across his toned, semi-exposed torso. He wore only a black robe, loosely tied at his waist, over matching black pajama pants.

A few strands of his raven-black hair clung to his forehead, still slightly damp from the shower he had taken after arriving back at his mansion.

A quiet sigh left him as he murmured under his breath, "Just... what kind of creature are you, little rose...?"

As he said that, he recalled how she had dared to blackmail him.

The memory of her bold declaration echoed in his mind:

"I’m now in a relationship with Gavriel Valentine."

The corner of his lips curved into an amused smile, and before he realised it, a soft chuckle escaped him.

He lifted the back of his hand to cover his mouth, but it proved useless as another laugh slipped through. Within moments, he pushed himself up and moved to the sofa, only to bend forward as his shoulders shook in a rare attempt to contain himself.

That was the sight Cillian and Reve were greeted with as they materialised out of thin air.

To say they were shocked would have been an understatement.

Gavriel... laughing?

On sensing their presence, Gavriel lifted his gaze towards them, his laughter gradually fading, though a faint trace of it still lingered.

"Um... ahem... everything alright?" Cillian asked cautiously.

Gavriel straightened at last, his composure slipping back into place as if nothing had happened. "I should be asking you two why you decided to appear unannounced in my room, of all places."

"R-right," Cillian cleared his throat again before quickly moving on. He and Reve began briefing him on what they had discovered about Mord.

They watched as the ease on his face vanished, replaced by something far more dangerous, like the unnerving calm at the centre of a storm waiting to break.

As silence settled heavily between them, his icy voice sliced through it, controlled yet laced with quiet menace. "Find him. Find him and bring him to me."