Claimed by Sin

He tasted her before he saw her. A spark on his tongue. A tremor under his skin. Faint and fleeting, like the brush of a ghost’s lips. After centuries of silence, buried in The Hollow where nothing existed but rage and ruin, the sensation cracked through Kaelias like lightning. His breath caught—an unfamiliar, painful thing after so long in the dark—and then he was moving. No hesitation. No thought. Only her. He slipped between the folds of existence, shedding the heavy rot of the Hollow like a second skin. Earth greeted him with noise, neon, and synthetic perfume that couldn’t hide the underlying rot of humanity. But none of that mattered—not when he felt her again. A heartbeat. A presence. A scent he’d only dreamed of remembering. He didn’t walk into the opulent ballroom. He bled into it like a shadow beneath the chandeliers, unnoticed by the glittering elite sipping champagne and whispering sins behind painted lips. Their laughter rang hollow. Their designer suits and diamond-draped necks meant nothing to him. But she—she unraveled him. There she was. She stepped out from behind a marble column, her curves hugged by a black silk dress that clung like sin. Her dark hair was curled and half-pinned away from her face—he remembered those curls, remembered the way they had felt twisted in his hands, between his fingers, around his throat. His lungs forgot to move. The heels clicked against the polished floor, announcing her arrival like war drums. And still—still—she didn’t see him. She didn’t feel him. That burned more than it should have. But someone else had her attention. A man. Tall. Rich. Arrogant. His arm draped around her waist like a chain, smug and possessive, as if she were something he'd earned. Kaelias’s jaw clenched so hard he tasted blood. The man’s fingers flexed against her hip and Kael saw red. How dare he touch her like that? She didn’t belong to him. She belonged to no one. She was sacred. She was power wrapped in a fragile shell of humanity. His memory of her had never done her justice. Seeing her now, knowing she didn’t know who she was—it was agony. He took a step forward. But a hand clamped down on his shoulder. “Not yet,” Sevryn murmured behind him. His voice was rougher now, like the Hollow had sanded it down to something feral. Kaelias didn’t look away. He couldn’t. His fingers twitched at his side, aching to draw blood. To burn this place down. To remind the world who she was. Who he was. But instead, he let his fury simmer beneath his skin, his gaze locked on the woman who had destroyed and saved him across lifetimes. She didn’t know it yet—but he had come back for her. And this time, nothing would stop him. Kaelias didn’t move, not even when Sevryn’s fingers dug hard into his shoulder. His eyes were fixed on her. Aura. His flame, his ruin, his curse. She was laughing now—gods, that laugh—and still in the arm of a man who had no idea what kind of divinity he dared to touch. “I swear,” Kaelias growled through clenched teeth, “if he lays another finger on her—” “You’ll what?” Sevryn cut him off, stepping in front of him, his own rage barely hidden beneath his perfectly human shell. “Incinerate this entire room of mortals? Blow our cover within minutes of stepping back onto Earth?” The air around them shimmered—barely controlled divinity pulsing against the mortal veil. The humans couldn’t see them yet, not in their true form, but the walls knew. The shadows knew. The chandeliers above trembled slightly. “Don’t test me, Sev,” Kaelias warned, jaw taut. “You didn’t feel her like I did. Not after the Hollow. It was like breathing again.” “Oh, I felt it,” Sevryn snapped, his own eyes glowing faintly gold. “I felt you unraveling the second you sensed her. You’re weak for her, brother. You always were.” Kaelias turned on him, fast as fury. “And you were always a jealous bastard.” In a flash, their godly forms cracked through the illusion. Kaelias’s silhouette burned with shadow-wreathed fire, ancient markings glowing along his arms, his chest, his throat. His eyes blazed like twin infernos. Wrath incarnate, barely leashed. Sevryn shimmered in contrast—sleek, colder, his aura a violent swirl of seduction and chaos. His dirty-blonde hair glinted like tarnished gold in the unnatural light, and his expression was all wickedness and sharp disdain. “You think this is about jealousy?” Sevryn hissed, stepping closer. “We spent centuries locked in a void while your precious goddess reincarnated over and over again—never once freeing us. Never once remembering. You’d risk everything for her again?” “She’s the key,” Kaelias bit out. “You know that.” “She’s your goddamn obsession,” Sevryn spat. “You want her. That’s what this is. You’re not here to finish the mission. You’re here to fall at her feet and f**k it all up again.” Kaelias lunged, shoving Sevryn back into the wall hard enough to c***k the plaster behind the illusion. “Say it again,” Kaelias snarled. “I dare you.” Sevryn laughed, but there was no humor in it. Just madness. “Touchy, touchy. Looks like Wrath still has his claws sunk in your spine.” Their eyes locked—fire and storm—and for a moment it felt like the world might split open. Then Kaelias stepped back, breathing hard. “We’re not here to destroy this world… yet.” “No,” Sevryn said coldly, adjusting his shirt like nothing happened. “Not unless she chooses wrong again.” Kaelias didn’t respond. He just turned his head—gaze drawn to where Aura stood now, her head tilted as if she sensed something. Her skin glowed under the chandeliers, her expression unreadable. His voice was low. Dangerous. Reverent. “She’s going to remember me.” Sevryn scoffed. “Let’s hope she doesn’t. Or we might all burn for it.” ** They reappeared in a dim, aging motel room. The wallpaper peeled in strips. A single, flickering bulb buzzed overhead like a mosquito. It was Earth’s idea of shelter, and it made Kaelias feel hollow all over again. He stripped out of his scorched coat, muscles rolling beneath pale skin as divine markings glowed faintly along his spine. He stood before the mirror, shirtless, barely recognizing the man looking back. The fire in his chest had not dimmed, only contained. “f**k this place,” Sevryn muttered, pacing behind him. “I hate being here. Mortals stink. Their souls are... limp.” Kaelias said nothing. He was focused on dressing—clean black slacks, a simple tailored shirt. His style was always sharp, understated, purposeful. He didn’t dress to blend in. He dressed like a warning. Sevryn pulled on his own jacket—black leather, cut tight, the collar upturned like a smirk. His shirt was dark crimson. His eyes, gold and violent, burned in the motel’s dim light. “Why can’t we access Nytherra?” Sevryn snapped. “Why can’t we feel our realm?” “We’re not strong enough yet.” “Bullshit.” Sevryn kicked the nightstand, sending a cracked lamp skidding across the floor. “This isn’t right. We didn’t crawl out of The Hollow for this. Something’s off. Who protected her while we were gone? Huh? Surely she couldn’t have made it this far without us.” Kaelias sat down on the edge of the bed, expression unreadable. “You’re not listening, Kael. Again.” “I am listening,” he said quietly. “No, you’re remembering.” Sevryn’s voice was accusatory, but there was no venom—just weariness. Kaelias said nothing. He didn’t have to. Because in his mind, she was already there. The memory wrapped around him like silk and smoke. Aura’s lips brushing his. Her thighs wrapped around his waist. Her skin, soft and sacred, pressed tight to his. He remembered her gasps, her whimpers. The feel of her soul entwined with his. He remembered every inch of her. Every sound. Every breathless cry. The Hollow had taken everything from him. But not that. Not her. And now, the scent of her essence in the air… it made his bones ache. His fists clenched against the mattress. Sevryn’s pacing didn’t stop. “And who the hell opened the gate anyway? Who had that kind of power? Because I don’t think she did it. Not this version of her. Not yet.” Kaelias didn’t answer. But his eyes darkened, a flicker of something ancient behind them. A memory just out of reach. “I’ll tell you what’s going to happen,” Sevryn snarled. “You’re going to lose yourself again. Just like before. And we’ll all end up buried. You think the Hollow was the worst they could do to us?” Kaelias stood, the air crackling around him. “I won’t lose her again.” “You never had her. Not really.” Kaelias crossed the room in a blur and slammed Sevryn against the wall. “Don’t talk about what you don’t understand.” “I understand betrayal,” Sevryn growled. “I understand sacrifice. You think she’d choose you again? After what she did?” Kaelias’s grip tightened, divine light flaring between them. Then slowly, he let go. Sevryn slid down the wall, panting, eyes wild. “Something’s coming. I feel it.” “I know.” Kaelias’s voice was low, like a storm waiting to break. “And I swear, I’ll burn this world down before I let it take her from me again.” Sevryn let out a bitter laugh. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” Kaelias didn’t respond. His gaze turned toward the dark window, toward the city where her heart beat like a beacon. She was close. And this time, he would not be too late. He whispered again into the night, his vow tasting like ash and promise. “She’s mine.”