Chapter 5: The Beast Within
Rolex sat behind the heavy desk in his office, the room lit only by a single lamp that cast stark shadows on the stone walls. His fingers gripped the arms of his chair, his knuckles white. The air felt heavy, like it was pressing against his chest, and he couldn't shake the strange pull that had started the moment that boy—Akin—was dragged into his mansion. Rolex, the demon king, feared by all, didn't get rattled. Yet here he was, his thoughts a mess, his demon clawing at the edges of his control.
The door creaked open, and Droko, his Shade, stepped inside. His black coat swept the floor, and his cold eyes gleamed as he bowed low. "My lord," Droko said, his voice steady. "The boy's locked up, just as you ordered. He's not going anywhere. Is there anything else you need?"
Rolex didn't answer right away. He stared at Droko, his jaw tight, his mind replaying the moment he'd seen Akin. Those wide, scared eyes, that bruised face—why couldn't he stop thinking about them? He felt it again, that tug in his chest, like something was pulling him toward the boy. His demon stirred, restless, its power pulsing under his skin. He didn't like it. He didn't trust it.
"Droko," Rolex said finally, his voice low and sharp. "Make sure that boy never leaves your sight. Not for a second. Understand?"
Droko's eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded. "Yes, my lord. I'll watch him myself." He bowed again, then turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.
Rolex stood, his movements slow, deliberate. He crossed the room to the tall window, its black curtains drawn tight. He didn't pull them back—he didn't need to see the city outside. His focus was inward, where his demon was raging, louder than it had been in centuries. Dark flames flickered around his hands, unbidden, their heat licking at his skin. His demon was fighting to break free, to take control, and he knew why.
*We've found him,* the beast growled in his mind, its voice like gravel and fire. *Our soulmate. Our bond. What are you waiting for? Go to him.*
Rolex's fists clenched, the flames vanishing as he forced his demon down. "No," he muttered, his voice hard. "Not a human. Never a human." The idea was disgusting. He was the demon king, above fate, above weakness. A soul bond was a chain, and he'd spent lifetimes breaking every chain that tried to hold him. A scrawny, broken boy like Akin? Impossible.
But his demon didn't listen. It pushed harder, its voice louder, more insistent. *He's ours. You felt it. You can't deny it.* The words echoed, sharp and relentless, like claws scraping inside his skull. Rolex's head throbbed, his vision blurring as the beast's power surged. His eyes flickered, black overtaking the whites, and he gripped the edge of the desk to steady himself.
"Shut up," he snarled, his voice echoing in the empty room. "Stay still." But the demon kept pushing, its longing bleeding into him, making his chest ache in a way he hadn't felt in centuries. He hated it—this loss of control, this need he couldn't explain. Every time he thought of Akin's face, his demon roared louder, demanding he go to the boy, claim him, protect him.
Rolex shoved away from the desk, his boots heavy on the stone floor. He couldn't sit here, fighting himself. He had to see the boy, had to understand why his demon was so sure. He strode out of the office, his long coat trailing behind him, his steps quick and purposeful. The mansion's halls were silent, the air cold, but his blood ran hot, his demon's voice a constant hum in his mind.
He reached the lower levels, where the air grew heavier, the walls closer. Droko stood guard outside a locked door, his posture rigid. When he saw Rolex, he bowed low and stepped aside, unlocking the door without a word. "He's inside, my lord," Droko said, his voice neutral but his eyes curious.
Rolex didn't respond. He pushed the door open and stepped into the small room. It was bare—stone walls, a single bed, a faint light from a bulb overhead. Akin sat on the bed, his back against the wall, his wrists cuffed to a chain bolted above him. His face was pale, bruised, his eyes wide with fear as he saw Rolex. He scrambled back, pressing himself against the wall, his breath fast and shallow.
Rolex's demon surged again, stronger this time, urging him closer. He moved slowly, his boots echoing in the small space. He stopped at the edge of the bed, looking down at Akin. The boy's fear was raw, his eyes darting like a trapped animal's, but there was something else—something that made Rolex's chest tighten. Those eyes, so bright, so alive, held him in a way he couldn't shake.
He sat on the edge of the bed, close enough to feel the heat of Akin's trembling body. The boy flinched, pulling at the cuffs, the metal clinking. Rolex's hand moved before he could stop it, his fingers brushing Akin's cheek. The touch was light, but it sent a jolt through him, like fire in his veins. His demon roared, triumphant, and for a moment, Rolex's vision blurred, his eyes flashing red.
Akin froze, his breath hitching. "What… what do you want?" he whispered, his voice shaking but defiant. "Why are you doing this?"
Rolex didn't answer right away. His fingers lingered on Akin's face, tracing the edge of a bruise. The boy's skin was warm, soft despite the marks, and Rolex felt that pull again, stronger now, undeniable. His demon was screaming, *Ours. He's ours.* But Rolex fought it, his jaw clenching. This couldn't be right. This boy—this weak, human boy—couldn't be his soulmate.
"Why you?" Rolex said, his voice low, almost a growl. He stared into Akin's eyes, searching for answers, for some reason this made sense. But all he saw was fear, confusion, and something else—something that mirrored the ache in his own chest.
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