Chapter 83: 83-Fake
One hundred and one new candles burned beneath the hollow ribs of the ruined compound.
Their flames flickered gold against old stone and hanging vines, casting long serpentine shadows across the floor. Melted wax pooled like pale tears around Sseraphis.
He struggled with his might but he could not remember their names or faces, that was the cruelest part.
Not the missing memories. Not the headaches that split his skull whenever he tried to reach beyond the fog in his mind. Not even the strange fragments of lives that felt stitched into him wrong, like stolen cloth forced into another beast’s skin.
The unbearable certainty that he had once loved beasts enough to mourn them properly and now he could not even remember who they were.
So he lit candles instead. One hundred and one to add to the previous one hundred candles, making the courtyard lively with so many lit candles.
He lit it for the forgotten and for the pieces of himself that had been buried somewhere he could no longer reach.
The wind hissed softly through the broken courtyard. Several candle flames trembled violently but none gave out.
The shadows behind him stirred. Then came the familiar sound of lazy applause. "How touching."
The voice dripped like honey over poison. The scarlet-eyed beast stepped from the darkness barefoot, smiling with infuriating ease.
He wore crimson silk loose around his frame, exposing far too much skin. Gold jewelry glimmered at his throat and wrists, chiming softly as he moved.
The beast’s scarlet eyes slid across the sea of candles before settling warmly onto Sseraphis, "You lit all these for memories you can’t even recall?" he asked lightly. "That sounds exhausting."
Sseraphis did not look at him. "You wouldn’t understand."
The beast laughed under his breath and wandered closer anyway, utterly shameless. "Mm. There’s that cold tone again." He leaned lazily against one of the ruined pillars. "You wound me."
"You recover quickly."
"Only because I adore you."
Sseraphis finally glanced at him, violet-black slit-pupiled eyes shot up feeling unreadable in the candlelight.
’Adore? Why do I feel like vomiting when I hear that?’
The beast repeated such things constantly, weaving them into every conversation with practiced ease as though affection alone could force belief into existence. But every single time Sseraphis heard it, something inside him recoiled.
Those sugary words felt wrong, painful to his ears and ignited hate in his heart. They sounded so fake like hearing a musician strike the wrong note in an otherwise perfect song.
The beast noticed his expression and sighed dramatically. "You still don’t believe me."
"My instincts don’t."
The air shifted. Silence settled between them. For the first time that night, the beast’s smile thinned slightly at the edges.
"Your instincts," he repeated softly. "Those same instincts that left you wandering half-dead without memories?"
Sseraphis’ eyes narrowed and the candles flickered harder. He found it ridiculous to be mocked by a spirit.
The beast immediately smiled again, smooth and effortless. "Forgive me. That was cruel."
’Cruel? yes. Calculated too,’ he thought. Everything about this creature felt calculated.
Sseraphis had awoken with no history, and only fragments of himself remaining. The beast claimed they fell in love and he got hurt fighting their enemies, lost his memories temporarily and they came there to free his body.
The spirit claimed the ancient oak tree sealed away "something important" tied to his forgotten past.
And now the beast constantly urged him toward the same thing. Practice the technique he’d given him so as to break the seal and free what sleeps beneath the oak.
Every conversation circled back to it eventually. Sseraphis was not stupid. Especially not when his gut screamed warnings every single time the oak tree was mentioned.
Something monstrous slept beneath that seal and somehow, the beast needed him to release it. "You’re thinking too hard again," Hadrian purred.
Before Sseraphis could respond, the beast drifted closer until crimson silk brushed against the floor between the candles.
Then he crouched directly in front of him. His warm fingers reached for the Sseraphis’s chin. Sseraphis allowed it mostly out of curiosity.
The beast smiled slowly when he didn’t pull away. "There," he murmured. "That’s progress. You are starting to give in to your lover."
"It’s amusement, Hadrian. I’d hardly call it submission."
"Oh?" Scarlet eyes gleamed wickedly. "So I entertain you?"
"At times."
The beast laughed softly, clearly delighted instead of insulted. Then, without warning, he leaned forward. His fingers slid into the Sseraphis’s hair. His forehead touched his gently.
Spirit though the beast currently was, Sseraphis still felt the strange pressure of magic winding around them, seduction magic. It was intoxicating.
The air thickened. "You know," the beast whispered, voice velvet-smooth, "If you stopped resisting me for even one night, I could make you forget every ache inside your head."
Sseraphis stared at him calmly. "Mm."
"No biting remark?" the beast teased. "You’re pretty, Sseraphis."
The beast blinked. Then grinned triumphantly. "Im being honest. The love between us is real."
"But your words still sound fake."
The grin froze on Hadrian froze. Just briefly and Sseraphis noticed, a bright smile plastered over his face for it.
’Interesting,’ he thought wickedly.
His gut hissed violently beneath his skin now, cold and sharp like unseen serpents coiling around his ribs.
’Danger!’ He heard a voice inside his head.
The beast recovered quickly, though irritation flickered behind his scarlet eyes. "You’re impossible," he sighed dramatically.
"And yet you keep trying to convince me that we are in love. How can that be if you cant stand me?"
"Because one day," the beast murmured softly, thumb stroking Sseraphis’s cheek, "You’ll remember me and realize that I am the one you love the most."
Sseraphis studied him for a long moment. Then he smiled faintly. "Or," he said, "I’ll remember why I shouldn’t and grow to hate you."
For the first time since entering the courtyard, true silence fell between them. Even the candles seemed to still.
Hadrian raised an eyebrow. He had to admit inwardly that Sseraphis was smart and had sharp guts. His soul was guarded against him. Because judging by the candle he was sure the snake was lighting for Aeltharion and Nytherael, his heart and soul remembered what his mind could not.c
"What if you remember that you are the one who fell in love first?"
Sseraphis’ face twisted. "Impossible!"
He would never give his heart away that easily. To let himself fall in love first after watching every beast he ever loved betray him by abandoning him? Never.
"How is that impossible?" Hadria asked. "Let me tell you, you chased after me shamelessly until I had no choice but to agree."
The danger warnings in Sseraphis’ head went off chaotically. It made him doubt Hadrian more.
His brain had a problem putting the pieces of his past together, not his heart. Surely if what Hadrian said was true, even if he didn’t remember it, his heart would soften around Hadrian.
However, with the scarlet-eyed beast, the opposite proved true. He got disgusted and annoyed with the beast than he was ensnared by him.
"I must’ve have been blind, deaf and dumb to settle for you. No offense."
"Every offense taken," Hadrian expressed, displeased.
"Sadly, Hadrian, I don’t care."
