Authors Note: Hello! Jeez, I don't know how the random burst happened, but I just want to say thank you all for all the love and incredibly nice comments! This slow burn is going to be a lot and crushing and -rubs hands- much angst. Good luck ;) Haha. Just a reminder to new readers: I haven't found a proper upload schedule yet so uploads may be inconsistent. Sorry!! Hope you all are doing well, and enjoy! Happy New Year!
~Chocolate And T
Chapter Fifteen
Twenty-two years, a demon prince had lived with a vanished mother.
One day. A cloudy, grey day. The demon had been sitting on his deep colored, luxurious duvet atop his bed in the palace, the fabric easing down and creasing at his weight. With blank, empty eyes, he stared at the small ball of purple and black tossed between one finger to the next, and to the next.
A flash of a second, the door swung open. The demon had prepared a growl at whichever insolent being would dare to come in without a knock and permission. Because surely, it was not the king. For although the king would have been the only one with permission to enter unannounced, the king had never visited once since the first time when he was just a babe.
In the spark of conscience as he jolted up seething, in came a tall woman with pitch black hair and similar eyes. Another being, the last being he would have thought would come. Despite the years, despite not one picture to remember, the demon's instinct and hatred lit with familiarity.
Without a moment to acknowledge the confusion inside him, his eyes grew red and a sphere of purple grew in his palm.
And without a moment to spare...
He stepped forward to lunge.
She kneeled down with a flower.
A smear of blood from her thumb swept the red rug of a similar color.
A glowing light surrounded the room in a circle, lines intersecting edges where certain objects and planters had inconspicuously been placed.
With the rumblings of footsteps and yells rushing closer their way,
...the demon vanished.
What his dazed mind saw next were grassy fields he fell onto and the green eyes which locked brilliantly into his, burning his insides.
Similarly, the demon of the present's brief, hazy vision post-teleportation brought in the view of the cabin.
The demon and the elf had spent a while at the beautiful scenery with the river, sitting by the side of the stream. Their boots had been removed and the chilled water rushed against their skin as they chatted with simple words or basked in their soothing silence.
When the two had felt ready to return to the cabin, the demon realized he was in a bit of a predicament.
It suddenly became excruciatingly apparent that the witch, as he liked to call the demoness, was not there. That the elf and him were very, very alone. That, if he had permission, he could touch the elf at his will without the disturbance or cautiousness of another.
Yet he couldn't.
Restraint was not something the demon, who could ask for a twenty course meal and have it be delivered in the next moment, was used to. As a craving as it already was, it only grew deeper with the added layer of unattainability.
An elf's bond is meant to be light and soft like a peck on the cheek of a soft peach blossom. A demon's bond is meant to be passionate, ravaging, hungrily taking in their partner. Yet, now the demon had to withhold himself of his instinct. Laughably, at the request of another.
The demon's fingers curled and dug into the fabric draping down from his shoulders. Despite the frustration, there was a little bit of pride with holding back. Having the control and power to hold back. Smirking to himself, the demon joined the elf who had been preparing a meal at their return.
The pride only lasted for so long. Watching the elf bite off a piece of fowl meat, the juices painted on his lips, and his tongue as he licked away excess... his gut coiled and his fingers prickled to touch. Had he ever desired something this deeply? The bond was surely a terrifying thing.
Glancing over, Eial noticed the demon's eyes turn dark with a tinge of red. With upturned brows, he eyed the demon worryingly. "What is wrong?" he asked, a glossiness still remaining on his lips.
The shapes the elf's mouth made while speaking jabbed at the demon. Unable to hide the irritation in him, the demon spun his head away with a huff. "It's nothing."
But that would not be lost with the elf. Eial could feel the tension inside of him, the emotions of the demon faintly clearer as the link of their bond grew stronger. He tried to recollect the demon's behavior, the red eyes staring. Staring at what? At... him eating...?
And then it became obvious.
"Did you want this? You could have just asked," the elf said, leaning over.
A questioning frown dawned on the demon's face with a wash of eager expectancy. When he cautiously turned around to look, his heart thumping slightly harder, he saw...
...Eial, holding out his partially consumed fowl in front of him. His eyes completely filled with understanding sympathy.
But no, he did not understand at all.
In his frustration, the demon snatched his offering and bit forcefully into the meat. In his second bite, he was so blinded by the annoyance, he did not watch out for the bone and his teeth crashed straight into the stiffness. Pain penetrated his teeth and gums as he dropped the fowl and immediately, Eial rushed over.
Unaware of Drokn's circumstance, Eial leaned in front of the demon, a hand over the demon's mouth, and the light blue glow of healing magic emitting against them. Oh, but Eial's worried face was far too close, his beautiful, green eyes, his soft, pinkish cheeks.
Eyes tightened enough to crease, his rough voice drew in strain. "Eial, my dear." Forcing a full breath, he grabbed the elf's wrist and pulled his arm away, and on a second thought, brought his hand closer again to draw a stride of wetness with his tongue against the elf's thumb and finishing off with a light nibble on the tip.
"I just wanted the last of the juices here," Drokn said deeply before he stood up and walked away to get some air.
Meanwhile, Eial looked at his palm. At the once clean palm he was not holding the fowl in. The palm that indeed did not have residue from the fowl meat. The palm that the demon had just grazed his tongue over. Eial was confused to say the least, thinking the demon as strange. Yet nonetheless, he remembered the sort of heat that tickled his nerves and sent a shiver in the contact. And now, the cool sensation of the air blew on the wetness, keeping the memory vibrant.
YOU ARE READING
The Demon and the Elf (Book 1)
Fantasy[mlm] The lonely Elf had waited many years to meet his bonded mate, but reality was harsher than he would have liked when he finds out his mate is not only a Demon, but the Demon wants nothing to do with him. [Part 1/Book 1 complete. Follow the stor...
