Bound to the Obsidian Demon King

Consuming Flames

Chapter 5: Consuming Flames

I freeze, my bare soles scraping against the gritty concrete floor. Damien is collapsed on one knee, a fallen god fracturing under the weight of his own power. He is a burning flame, an inferno of volatile hellfire that threatens to ash everything in this miserable room, yet I can’t bring myself to run away. He feels every microscopic tear in my soul, bearing the weight of my past agony on top of his own, while I stand here entirely unburdened by his physical torture feeling nothing but guilt.

It isn’t fair. I feel completely useless, but I take a frantic step forward anyway.

"If you don't want to be destroyed, don’t move an inch closer to me," he growls. It isn't a plea; it’s a desperate, feral warning.

A low, resonant roar tears from deep within his chest—a deep, vibrating rumble of pure agony that shakes the very foundations of the room. He clutches his chest, his powerful frame convulsing as the obsidian tattoos on his skin turn into literal, bleeding fissures of crimson light.

Then, the monster breaks through the royal facade.

With a sickening crunch of shifting bone, the dark hair on his head begins to spread down his neck and jawline, turning coarse and wild. The muscles in his back tear through the seams of his high-end jacket as they swell with beastly mass. His fangs elongate, pressing painfully against his bleeding lips. His long, lion-like tail thrashes against the concrete, shattering the floorboards into dust with every agonising strike.

He is turning into a beast right before my eyes. He is in pain.

My heart aches with a terrifying intensity. I can’t physically feel the hellfire melting him from the inside, but the emotional pull is absolute. I am drawn to him like a moth to the very fire that means to consume it. I don’t know how to heal a demon king. I don’t have the faintest clue what is tearing his power apart—whether it's the proximity of my curse or an absolute rejection of the bond by his ancient blood—but I know I cannot watch him break.

I ignore his warning. I rush into the heat.

I throw myself at his massive, trembling frame, wrapping my arms around his neck and hugging him with every ounce of strength I possess. The moment my skin meets his, it feels like embracing a furnace. The scent of ozone and burning flesh fills my senses.

Damien reacts instantly, the feral instinct of a cornered predator taking over. With a guttural snarl, his massive clawed hand slams into my shoulder, his sharp nails tearing through the fabric of my nightgown and sinking deep into my flesh.

I gasp, white-hot pain exploding across my back as his claws carve bloody tracks into my skin. He lunges blindly, his elongated fangs sinking deep into the column of my neck.

He is going to destroy me.

My eyes water from the agony, but I don’t let go. I tighten my grip around his shifting, beastly shoulders, burying my face into the coarse dark hair at his neck.

I swallow the cry of pain rising in my throat and force my lips to move. I begin to hum.

It’s a soft, fragile melody. My mother’s favourite song. She used to sing it to me when I was only five years old, running her gentle fingers through my silver-blonde hair in a sunlit garden, long before she left this cruel world. It is the only piece of pure, untainted love I have left in my soul.

I hum louder, letting the melody vibrate against his burning skin.

Damien flinches. His beastly, ragged breaths huff hot against my neck, smelling of copper and smoke. He bites harder, his fangs grazing the pulse point in my throat, a single snap away from ending my life. Blood trickles down my collarbone, warm and terrifying.

Still, I keep humming. I rock him gently against me, ignoring the agony in my shoulder, ignoring the claws dug into my flesh. My only goal is to anchor him back to sanity. To heal his pain in whatever broken way I can manage. I offer him my melody, my warmth, and my blood as a shield against his own inferno.

Slowly, the violent thrashing of his tail begins to slow.

The ragged, beastly huffs of his breath turn into heavy, exhausted gasps. The crushing pressure of his fangs against my neck gradually eases. His jaw slackens, releasing his hold on my skin. His hands slide down to grip my waist, trembling violently not from rage, but from absolute restraint.

The coarse fur along his jawline begins to recede, the bone-snapping heat of his transformation cooling back into the fair, pale skin of the Demon King.

My voice falters, the final notes of the song fading into the quiet, dust-filled room. Feeling the storm subside, I slowly release my tight embrace and step back a few inches. My nightgown is stained with my own blood.

I look up into his amber eyes, which are finally focusing on me, clear and devastatingly intense.

"How do you feel now?" I whisper, my voice trembling from the lingering pain.

Damien doesn’t answer with words.

His eyes darken into a chaotic vortex of hunger and fierce, unreadable emotion. Before I can even take a breath, his hand shoots up, twisting into my silver-blonde hair and tilting my head back. He yanks me forward, pulling my body flush against his hard chest, and crashes his lips onto mine.

Damien consumes me.

It is not gentle nor kind. His mouth claims mine with raw, desperate hunger, as if the beast inside still claws for dominance. His hand twists tighter into my silver-blonde hair, anchoring me to him while his tongue invades, tasting of copper, smoke, and something darkly addictive.

I gasp into his mouth, my body trembling. My shoulder burns where his claws tore me, but the agony blurs into a dangerous heat as his free hand slides down my spine, gripping my waist to pull me flush against his solid chest.

He is not himself.

I feel it in the way his hands shake, in the low, broken growl vibrating against my lips. The bond, the unstable power, the agony he just endured—everything has cracked his iron control.

“Damien…” I breathe unsteadily when he pulls back just enough to let me breathe.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he spins me around and presses my back against the cracked wall, caging me in. His tail wraps firmly around my thigh, holding me open as his mouth descends on my neck. He licks the blood from the bite marks he left, then sucks hard, marking me with bruising intensity.

A broken moan escapes my lips. My knees weaken.

His clawed hand pushes the torn strap of my nightgown down, exposing my skin. He drags his fangs lightly across my collarbone, then lower, until his hot mouth closes over my breast. I cry out, arching into him as his tongue swirls around my hardened n****e, teasing and biting just enough to send sharp sparks of pleasure-pain through me.

I breathe in ragged, uneven gasps, my chest heaving against his mouth. Every touch feels too much, yet not enough. The bond pulses between us, feeding me echoes of his hunger, his frustration, and his unwilling need.

“Damien… wait...” I whimper, but my voice lacks any real protest.

He is too far gone.

His hand slides under the hem of my nightgown, pushing the silk up to my waist. Rough fingers trace my inner thigh, finding me already shamefully wet. A dark, satisfied growl rumbles against my skin as he strokes me slowly, deliberately, circling my most sensitive spot until my hips jerk helplessly.

His movements are possessive, almost frantic, like he is fighting himself even while claiming me. I moan loudly, my head falling back against the concrete as pleasure crashes through me in waves.

I am breathing so hard I feel dizzy. The room spins. The bond, the pain, the overwhelming sensation of his body against mine, it is all too much.

“Damien… I can’t...” I cry out his name, my body clenching desperately.

But he doesn’t stop. He keeps sucking my already hard breast, his breath uneven. His amber eyes are wild, glowing brighter than I have ever seen them.

My vision begins to blur at the edges. My legs give out completely.

The last thing I feel is Damien’s strong arms catching me before everything fades to black. I faint in the arms of the Demon King who swore never to care.