In Lines Of Love ~ Kimchay

34. Bet on

Anawin enters Damon’s dark world only to find himself trapped in a rigged game. A Demon's bet.
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Anawin and Damon had never been strangers to war. They had known each other since childhood, bound by blood and betrayal.

Once, they had been close friends, mates, partners, whatever you call them in arms, allies against the world.

But power had a way of breaking even the strongest bonds.

When Anawin ascended as the youngest and most righteous of the Celestial Court’s favored, Damon had been cast down, branded a traitor, and accused of unspeakable sins.

He had pleaded his case, swearing he was framed. Anawin had looked into his eyes and turned away.

While Anawin basked in the golden glow of heaven, Damon crawled through hell.

He was exiled to the Hell colony, where low breeds, lost souls, and monsters wander, stripped of his status, and his wings burned from his back. And he had never forgotten.

And when the heavens finally turned their back on Anawin?

Years later, whispers of Anawin’s fall from grace reached him, Damon smiled for the first time in ages.

He built his empire from the ground up, with underworld casinos, secret dealings, dens, blood-stained contracts, and debts that could never be repaid, a kingdom of sinners bowing to him.

And when Anawin finally came to him, desperate, broken, clawing for redemption…

Damon simply pulled out a chair, gestured to the deck of cards, and smiled.

"Shall we play?"
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Anawin’s hands tightened around his cards, his knuckles turning white. The game had spiraled into something monstrous, something he could no longer control.

He had come here to win back what had been stolen—his dignity, his power, his very identity.

However to win this all he needed to bet. Bet on something precious.

On the other hand, Damon had been waiting, with infinite patience, his traps laid long before Anawin even stepped into the room.

Now, Anawin sat across from him at the velvet-draped table, cards gripped tight in his trembling fingers.

The dimly lit casino pulsed with an eerie stillness, the world narrowing to the space between them.

Damon was a Demon in disguise, a wolf wrapped in silk and shadows. He leaned back in his chair, watching, waiting.

The flickering candlelight cast cruel shadows across his angular face, raven eyes gleaming with the promise of destruction.

"You look nervous, sweetheart," Damon murmured, his fingers tapping against the table in slow, deliberate beats. "Scared you'll lose?"

Anawin swallowed the knot in his throat, refusing to look weak. "I don’t lose," he said, voice firm.

Damon chuckled, the sound of a dark caress over Anawin’s skin. "Oh, but you do." He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, a predator savoring his meal before the first bite. "You just don’t realize it yet."

The dealer flipped the final card.

A cruel silence followed.

Royal flush. Damon’s.

The realization slammed into Anawin like a blade between the ribs. His breath caught.

His vision darkened at the edges. He had a bet to give himself to the Demon.

Damon sighed, dragging out the moment as he reached for his drink, swirling the deep red liquid before taking a slow sip.

"Oh dear,"

He mocked, setting the glass down with a soft clink. "Looks like you're mine now."

Anawin’s fingers curled into his palms, nails biting into his skin. "You cheated."

Damon laughed, the sound low and indulgent. "Cheated?" He tilted his head, eyes flashing with amusement. "No, sweetheart. I just know you too well."

He rose from his seat, moving like a shadow around the table, his presence was suffocating. Maybe intoxicating.

Anawin’s pulse kicked up when Damon loomed over him, a hand sliding under his chin, tilting his face up.

"You should have folded," Damon whispered while his breath fanning over Anawin’s lips. "Now, you belong to me."

Anawin jerked away, but Damon was faster. A strong hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him forward until their foreheads almost touched.

"Let go," Anawin hissed, his body tensing.

Damon hummed in mock thought. "Hmm… no. I think I rather like this." He brushed a thumb over Anawin’s lower lip, smirking when the other trembled, caught between resistance and something darker.

"You were always so untouchable. So righteous. But here? You're just a pretty little mutt who thought he could outplay the demon."

Anawin snarled, but Damon saw through it. He always did.

"Say it," Damon murmured, his voice like a silk ribbon tightening around Anawin’s throat. "Say you’re mine."

Anawin glared, his pride curdling into something bitter. "I’d rather die."

Damon’s fingers threaded into Anawin’s hair, gripping tight enough to make him gasp. "Fucking Mutt" he purred evilly, "you’ll be begging before the night is over."