The Refuge of Fate

Chapter 40 - Erased

'My love... his scent...' Ciaran thought while nuzzling his nose in the white-haired king's neck.

The sweet fragrance of elegant fruits and flowers combined with the intoxicating scent of his mark placed on the neck that Silas produced made his mind foggy.

The young king's scent was a drug that he could never get over with. It was an addiction that drives him mad; a poison that lures him to death more than anything could.

'He's here, he's here in my arms.' Fenrir gave off a satisfied sigh as he allowed himself to get comfortable in the warmth Silas' body produced.

Meanwhile, the screeching of the candidate behind him ricocheted through the walls of the underworld like bullets bouncing through soft surfaces.

The succubus that was dying because she could not copy Silas' image looked pitiful.

However, he did not care. He did not care whether they were in the underworld right now or there were a thousand enemies possibly waiting to ambush them right here and then.

What matters the most is the person in his arms – Silas.

"You smell so good," Ciaran commented in a whisper while he continued to indulge himself in the wonderful fragrance.

There was another thing that immediately made Ciaran know the entity that approached him earlier wasn't Silas.

Aside from the disfigured face, the entity did not bear his mark. That's one of the parameters the vampire king had set in order to identify if the person approaching him is the love of his life.

Even if he lost his sight, he would know through the mark.

Even if the lost his smell, he would know through the scent.

Even if he lost his touch, he would know through the magic that bound them together for eternity.

"My love..." he trailed off and snaked his arms around Silas' waist.

Even if he lost his mind, Ciaran will know that it was Silas no matter what.

After all, the white-haired king was the drug that had him addicted; a vice that he cannot stop. The moment he got a taste of what it felt like to be the man's lover, the repercussions of backtracking were unimaginable.

But Silas on the other hand was still watching the withering succubus.

"He's mine."

Thump!

Fenrir's heart leaped when he heard the profound statement.

A grin made its way on his face and he wanted not to show it. Yet it was too powerful to even be stopped.

Silas claiming him as his own had his worries vanish instantly.

"Yes, I'm yours. I am only yours, Silas..." he confirmed while tightly embracing Silas' waist. Ciaran's face reddened as a bashful look made its way on his face.

"I'm only yours." He inhaled again.

"Fenrir," Silas called when the succubus had finally disappeared.

"Yes, my love?"

Ciaran then felt Pier's fingers continue combing his hair and he closed his eyes in satisfaction.

"Can I ask for a favor from you?" The vampire king's eyes immediately opened when he heard the question.

Favor?

He frowned and looked up to meet Silas' eyes.

"My love, you never have to ask me for a favor. Just say what you want and I will get it done instantly!" He argued particularly to no one.