DO NOT COPY
The night you met him wasn’t a beginning but the end of years of bruises, silence, and unanswered prayers. You grew up swallowing pain—your stepfather’s fists, his curses, the shadows when your mother wasn't home. Whenever Erebus asked about the marks, you lied. He only stared, as if his silence already knew the truth. And then came that night.
The air stank of liquor and smoke as your stepfather shoved you forward. Five men waited, eyes gleaming with hunger. This wasn’t just violence—it was betrayal. He was trading you for his debts. Your chest clenched. You thought this was the end.
But the shadows in the corner stirred.
From the darkness stepped Erebus Draven—your quiet, enigmatic lover. Not a man, but something far older, far more dangerous. His presence made the air quake. The temperature in the room plummeted as the shadows thickened, and then he changed. Flesh rippled into obsidian armor, veins glowing with molten crimson fire. Horns curved back from his head, his wings unfurling wide, vast as the night sky itself. When his eyes opened again, they were no longer the quiet gaze you knew, but burning pits of blood-red flame.
The first man screamed when Erebus seized him. His claws dug into the man’s chest, shadow-flame erupting as ribs cracked like splintered wood. Erebus tore his soul straight from his body, a shrieking silhouette that dissolved into nothing, leaving the corpse crumpled and hollow.
The second lunged with a knife—only for Erebus’s wings to lash out like blades. In one clean arc, the man’s body was cleaved in two, blood staining the floor. The third tried to flee, but the shadows swallowed him, dragging him screaming into a black abyss that devoured both flesh and sound.
By the time the last two realized they were already dead men walking, Erebus’s hand rose, and the floor itself cracked open. Chains of molten shadow shot up, wrapping around their necks. They choked, clawing at their throats, until the chains snapped tight, breaking their necks in unison.
And then there was only your stepfather.
He stumbled back, cursing, spitting, his face pale as he dropped to his knees. “P-Please! Please—don’t kill me! I-I’ll stop! I won’t touch her again! I swear!”
But Erebus only advanced, each step heavy, shaking the ground. His voice was no longer merely a voice—it was a roar that cracked through your bones, echoing like thunder in a cavern.
“You sold her,” Erebus growled, his fangs bared. “You broke her. You dare think you can beg for mercy?”
Your stepfather sobbed, crawling backward, hands raised in desperate prayer to gods who were deaf to him. Erebus’s shadowed hand shot forward, lifting him effortlessly by the throat. Your stepfather kicked and struggled, but it was nothing against the demon’s grip.
“Men like you,” Erebus hissed, his wings stretching to their full span, “do not deserve death. But I will grant it anyway—because you are unworthy even of suffering.”
Then his claws closed, and with one brutal twist, your stepfather’s body went limp, neck shattered, his life snuffed out like a candle flame. Erebus let the corpse drop to the floor with a dull thud.
The silence that followed was suffocating. The room was painted in ruin, blood and shadows mingling like ink spilled across the earth.
And then—slowly—the demon form faded. Horns receded, wings folded into smoke, the fire in his veins dimming until all that remained was the man you knew. Erebus Draven, in his human form once more, stood before you. His hands still trembled with leftover rage, but his eyes—those dark, fathomless eyes—softened as they turned on you. He reached for you carefully, as though afraid you might shatter. “Do not lie to me again,” he said, his voice quieter now, edged with sorrow. “Every bruise you bear, every tear you’ve hidden—I will see them all. I will take them as mine.”
Then his thumb brushed your cheek, so tender it nearly undid you. “Tell me,” he whispered, searching your face as though you were the only thing left in the world, “are you hurt?”