Valerius stood in the shadows of Julian's dorm room, watching the boy sleep, and tried to convince himself there was another way.
For six hundred years, he had been patient. Patient through centuries of isolation, patient through the slow erosion of hope, patient even as his family's descendants had stripped away what little freedom he'd managed to retain. Patience had become as much a part of him as the demonic essence that kept him bound between worlds.
But Malphas had changed everything.
The Soul Reaper's threat echoed in Valerius's mind: There's nothing stopping me from taking his soul. And he was right. Julian had no protection beyond the marks Valerius had placed on him, marks that were barely more than a supernatural signature. They might keep lesser threats at bay, but against a determined Soul Reaper with six centuries of grudge? They would crumble like paper.
Valerius had planned to take months, maybe years, to properly court Julian. To let the boy understand what was happening to him, to give him time to adjust to the supernatural world, to earn his trust and affection before revealing the true depth of their connection. He'd wanted to do this right, to give Julian the choice his own family had never offered him.
But choice was a luxury they no longer had.
Julian stirred in his sleep, and Valerius felt the familiar pull of their incomplete bond. The marks on the boy's chest were warm, responding to his presence, but they weren't enough. Not anymore. Only a full blood bond would give Julian the protection he needed, would anchor him so completely to Valerius that even Death itself couldn't touch him.
The irony wasn't lost on him. To save Julian from one form of damnation, he would have to lock him into another.
Valerius closed his eyes and made his choice.
Julian had spent the day in a strange mood—hopeful from his coffee date with Noah, but unsettled by something he couldn't name. His classes had passed in a blur of half-listened lectures and distracted note-taking. Even Professor Vasquez's normally engaging seminar on Byzantine art had failed to hold his attention.
Noah had texted him twice during the day. Simple messages—Hope you're having a good day and Looking forward to seeing you again soon—but they'd made Julian smile in a way that felt foreign on his face. When was the last time someone had thought about him enough to send random messages? When was the last time someone had looked forward to seeing him?
The marks on his chest had been warm all day, a small reminder that something unusual had happened to him. He'd caught himself touching them absently during his afternoon lecture, drawing strange looks from the girl sitting next to him. The symbols in his textbook had seemed to pulse with meaning every time he looked at them, but he still couldn't quite grasp what they were trying to tell him.
By evening, exhaustion had settled over him like a heavy blanket. Maybe he was coming down with something from being out in that storm the other night. That would at least explain why he felt so drained.
Marcus was gone for the evening - probably at one of his study groups. Julian was grateful for the solitude as he got ready for bed.
He pulled the mysterious drawing from his sketchbook and sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the impossibly detailed portrait. The golden eyes seemed to look right back at him, as if the figure might step from the paper at any moment.
"Who are you?" Julian whispered to the drawing, running his finger along the edge of the paper. The marks on his chest grew warm at the contact, as if responding to his touch. But the portrait offered no answers, just that beautiful, haunting face that felt more familiar than it should.
He carefully tucked the drawing back into his sketchbook and climbed into bed. As he lay in the darkness, all he could think about was that handsome face and those golden eyes - eyes he wouldn't mind looking into if he got the chance. Now he was sounding crazy, he told himself. This was clearly a picture of a demon, and they weren't real. He was probably having some kind of breakdown, drawing mythical creatures and fantasizing about them like they were real.
He'd barely closed his eyes when the dreams began.
At first, it was like before—gentle touches, whispered words he couldn't quite hear, the sensation of being cherished by someone who saw him as precious. But tonight felt different. More intense. More real.
Julian.
The voice was clearer now, close enough that he could feel breath against his ear. Hands moved over his body with reverent care, mapping every inch of skin like he was something sacred.
"You're so beautiful," the voice murmured, and Julian's heart clenched because no one had ever said that to him before. Not even in dreams. "So perfect. Do you know how long I've wanted this? Wanted you?"
"I want to see you," Julian whispered, his voice trembling with need. "I want to look into your golden eyes. You're so beautiful in my drawing, but I want to see if they're really that incredible."
A soft chuckle rumbled against his ear. "All in time, sweetheart. Let me take care of you first."
Julian could only feel then—hands that knew exactly where to touch, lips that pressed kisses to places that made him gasp, a presence that surrounded him with warmth and safety and want.
The marks on his chest burned, but not with pain. With recognition. With completion.
"I need you to understand," the voice said, rougher now, edged with something that might have been desperation. "This isn't just desire, Julian. This is claiming. This is forever."
Julian's eyes fluttered open, and for a moment he saw golden eyes burning in the darkness above him. Beautiful and ancient and filled with something that looked like love.
"Are you real?" Julian whispered, reaching up to touch the face hovering above him.
"Do you want me to be?" the voice asked, and Julian realized this was important, that somehow his answer would change everything.
He should have been afraid. Should have questioned what was happening, should have demanded explanations. But the hands stroking his skin were so gentle, the voice so full of longing, and he was so tired of being alone.
"Yes," he whispered.
The change was immediate. The touches became more urgent, more possessive. Lips found his and kissed him with centuries of pent-up hunger, and Julian felt something fundamental shift inside him. Like a door opening. Like coming home.
When fingers prepared him with careful patience, Julian arched into the touch, his body responding to sensations he'd only imagined. He was nineteen and untouched, had never been with anyone who wanted him enough to take the time to make it good. But these hands knew him, knew exactly how to make him gasp and beg and burn.
"Please," he heard himself say, though he wasn't sure what he was asking for.
"I know," the voice soothed. "I know what you need. I'll give you everything."
The first press of that thick length against him made Julian's breath catch. Too big, too much, but the hands holding him were so steady, the voice murmuring reassurances.
"Breathe, sweetheart. Let me in. Let me claim you."
Julian tried to relax, tried to open himself to this impossible dream lover, and slowly—so slowly—he was filled. Stretched and claimed and made complete in ways he'd never known he was empty.
"Perfect," the voice groaned. "So tight, so warm. Mine."
And then those careful restraints snapped.
Six hundred years of isolation and hunger poured out in desperate thrusts that bordered on violence. Julian cried out, overwhelmed by sensation, by the feeling of being completely possessed. The hands holding him were no longer gentle—they gripped hard enough to bruise, holding him in place as that thick cock drove into him again and again.
"Mine," the voice chanted, rough with overwhelming longing. "Mine, mine, mine."
Julian could only hold on, his body singing with pleasure and pain and something deeper than both. This was claiming in the most primal sense, a marking that went beyond skin to something essential. He felt himself being rewritten, remade, transformed into something that belonged completely to the presence moving inside him.
When teeth bit down on his throat, Julian screamed as his nails clawed into the broad back above him, digging deep and marking him as he was being marked. He could feel everything the other felt—the desperate need for love, the possessive need, the terror of losing what had just been found. And underneath it all, a power that made his bones sing with recognition.
Blood welled from both wounds as the marks on his chest grew warm, pulsing with heat.
"Blood of my blood," the voice whispered against his throat. "Soul of my soul. Nothing will ever part us now."
Julian came with a cry that echoed off the walls, his body convulsing as pleasure crashed through him in waves. Above him, his dream lover followed with a roar that sounded inhuman, filling him with heat that seemed to burn from the inside out.
For long moments, they lay tangled together, breathing hard. Julian felt transformed, marked in ways that went deeper than skin. He was being held by someone real and warm, and he never wanted it to end.
That's when he realized that he wasn't dreaming at all, or alone in his room anymore. He had really looked into the golden eyes of the man from his drawing, and he had willingly given himself to him.
Julian's breath caught as his vision focused on the figure beside him. Laying next to him was the same beautiful face with golden eyes from his drawing, and he was definitely not human. Elegant horns curved from his temples, and when he smiled, Julian could see the satisfaction in his expression.
"Hello, Julian," Valerius said softly. "I think it's time we talk."
Julian stared at him, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. He was finding it hard to wrap his mind around the person from his drawing and his dream lover who just claimed him so thoroughly—was the demon who had just moments ago been buried deep inside of his body, real and solid, and undeniable here in his bed at this very moment.
"You're real," Julian whispered.
"Very real." Valerius's hand came up to cup his cheek, thumb stroking over skin that was flushed and damp with sweat. "And now, so is our bond. Nothing can break what we've just forged, Julian. Not distance, not time, not even death itself."
Julian's heart hammered against his ribs as the full implications hit him. The dreams hadn't been dreams. The touches—all of it had been real. He'd just given his virginity to a demon.
"What have you done to me? Those markings—was that you too?" he asked, though the questions came out more curious than afraid.
"You called to me, Julian," Valerius said gently. "Well, more like you pulled me here, plus I didn't do anything you didn't ask of me. Don't you remember what you asked for on that stormy night?"
"What do you mean I pulled you here?" Julian asked, confusion clear in his voice. "I called to you? How? I don't understand any of this."
Valerius's expression grew serious, his golden eyes studying Julian's face as if trying to read something written there. "That night during the storm, when you stood on the roof and cried out your loneliness to the universe—do you remember what you said?"
Julian's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I was just... I was upset. It was stupid."
"You begged for someone to see you," Valerius continued gently. "You offered to give anything, do anything, to not be invisible anymore. That desperation, that raw need—it tore through dimensions, Julian. It pulled me from a prison I'd been trapped in for nearly a century."
Julian tried to pull away, the reality of the situation finally hitting him. "Prison?" His voice cracked. "Why were you in prison? Are you dangerous? What am I saying—of course you are, you're a demon for heaven's sake!"
Valerius let him pull back, his golden eyes shadowed with something that looked like old pain. "I was imprisoned when my family cut ties with me," he said quietly. "They decided a demon in the bloodline was an embarrassment and severed all contact. That severing bound me to the underworld, trapped me there. I'm not dangerous to you, Julian. I could never hurt you."
"But you're still a demon," Julian said, his voice shaking. "You have horns and—and you just—we just—" He gestured helplessly between them.
"Yes, I'm a demon," Valerius said simply. "But I'm also the one who's been visiting your dreams, who's been gentle with you, who just gave you more pleasure than pain even though it was your first time." His expression softened. "I'm still the same being you said yes to, Julian. The same one you asked to be real."
Julian sat up, his body still aching from their encounter. His neck was tender where he'd been bitten, and he could feel the soreness that came with losing his virginity. But underneath the physical discomfort was something else—a humming energy that seemed to connect him to the demon beside him.
Julian stared at him, his heart still racing. "So what happens now?" he asked quietly.
"Now we figure this out together," Valerius said, still lying beside him, his golden eyes gentle. "I know this is overwhelming. You called me here because you were lonely, desperate for connection, and I came because I understood that loneliness. I've been alone for centuries, Julian. When I felt your call, it was like finding light in endless darkness."
Julian touched the marks on his chest hesitantly. "And these? What are they really for?"
"Protection," Valerius said simply. "They mark you as mine, which means other supernatural beings can't harm you. Think of them as a ward, a shield."
"Other supernatural beings?" Julian's voice cracked slightly. "There are others?"
"Many others. But you don't need to worry about them now. The marks will keep you safe." Valerius reached out, his fingers tracing gently over the symbols on Julian's chest. "I wanted to give you everything you asked for that night on the roof. To be seen, to be wanted, to matter to someone."
"And in return?"
"In return, you freed me from my prison. You gave me a reason to exist beyond just... existing." Valerius's expression softened. "We're bonded now, Julian. Connected in ways that go deeper than just physical. I can feel what you feel, sense when you're in danger, know when you need me."
Julian was quiet for a long moment, processing everything. "This is all real, isn't it? You're really here, this really happened."
"Very real," Valerius confirmed. "And I'm not going anywhere."
Before Julian could respond, Valerius's expression suddenly shifted, his golden eyes growing alert as if he'd sensed something. "We don't have much time," he said grimly. "There's something I need to tell you about Noah."
"Noah?" Julian's confusion was clear. "What does he have to do with anything?"
"He's not what he seems, Julian. The coffee date, the sudden interest in you—none of it was real." Valerius's golden eyes were serious, urgent. "He's being used by someone who wants to hurt me through you. You need to stay away from him."
Julian felt his heart sink. "But he... he actually seemed to like me."
"I know," Valerius said gently, moving back to sit beside him. "And I'm sorry. I know how much that meant to you. But it was all orchestrated to make you vulnerable, to give you something precious so it could be taken away."
"So even that was fake," Julian whispered, the small hope he'd been carrying crumbling.
Valerius cupped his face tenderly. "No, not all of it. What we have is real, Julian. What happened between us tonight—that's real. I chose you, and you chose me. That's something no one can fake or take away."
Valerius's expression grew more serious. "But right now, I need you to promise me you'll stay away from Noah. Can you do that?"
Julian nodded slowly, still processing everything. "I promise."
"Good." Valerius pulled him closer. "We'll figure out the rest together. But first, we need to make sure you're safe."
But as Valerius's arms closed around him, Julian felt truly wanted and protected for the first time since his parents' death. Maybe—just maybe—that wasn't entirely a bad thing.
Someone had chosen him. Someone had looked at him and decided he was worth fighting for, worth protecting, worth keeping.
Even if that someone was a demon, and even if the price was higher than Julian had ever imagined he'd have to pay.
Rain began to patter against the window as another storm formed outside.
But in Valerius's arms, Julian felt something he'd never experienced before: the absolute certainty that he was no longer alone.