OWNED BY THE DEVIL'S HEIR

CHAPTER THREE

Time inside the big house didn't make sense to Elian. It passed quietly, without any signs of morning or night, so he had no idea how long he had been there. The room he woke up in never changed. The light was always the same, soft and steady, giving no clue about the time of day. Food would appear and disappear without anyone explaining how. Footsteps could be heard outside his door, sometimes often, sometimes far away, but never in a way he could count on.

At first, he tried to count. He measured time by how often he slept, how often he woke up, and how often someone came into the room. It didn't work. His body was still getting better, his sleep was not regular, and his awareness kept changing too much to hold onto anything steady.

Eventually, he stopped trying. Instead, he focused on something else.

His body.

The heavy feeling that kept him stuck in place started to fade in small, slow ways. It began with his fingers, a tiny movement that felt almost not real when it first happened. Then his hands followed, moving slowly and not very steady. His movements were weak, but they were his own again. His voice came back in parts, rough at first, breaking when he tried to use it after so long, before it settled into something more normal.

Standing up took longer. The first time he tried, his legs couldn't hold him, and he fell back onto the bed before he could even take one step. This made him more upset than anything else. Being trapped was one thing. Not being able to move was something else completely.

He didn't give up. Each time he tried, he put in more effort and focus, until his body started to work the way it should. The strength came back slowly, not enough to make him feel sure of himself, but enough to remind him that he wasn't as helpless as he first thought.

That was important.

Dante came and went during those days in a way that made him impossible to guess.

Sometimes he walked into the room without warning, his presence filling the space before Elian could get ready for it. Other times, he didn't show up at all, leaving Elian alone with his thoughts and the quiet that felt like it was pressing in on him.

When Dante did stay, he rarely spoke. He watched. That was the part Elian couldn't ignore. Dante's attention stayed on him in a way that made it hard to relax. His gaze was steady, focused, as if he were looking for something he hadn't found yet. There were times when he said a few words, simple things that didn't explain anything Elian needed to know.

"Eat."

"Rest."

"You're getting better faster than I thought you would."

None of it explained why he was there. None of it explained what Dante meant when he said he had been looking for him.

Elian asked questions at first. He couldn't help it.

"Why am I here?" he asked one day, his voice still rough but steady enough to be heard.

Dante stood near the wall that had no windows, his attention shifting a little when he heard Elian's voice.

"You saw something you shouldn't have," he answered.

"That's not enough reason to keep someone like this."

Dante didn't answer that. Instead, he looked at Elian for another moment before turning away, ending the conversation without another word.

It didn't take long for Elian to understand. Asking questions didn't give him any control. So he stopped.

Instead, he watched. He paid attention to the small details most people would miss. The sound of footsteps outside his door, the difference between the ones that walked past and the ones that stopped. The sound of keys turning, quiet talks between voices he couldn't quite hear.

The big house had a system. It wasn't easy to see, but it was there. And Elian was starting to notice it.

The first chance came quietly. His door had been left unlocked more often as he got stronger, a small change that might have gone unnoticed if Elian hadn't been paying attention. It didn't mean he was free to leave, but it gave him something he didn't have before.

A choice.

He stepped into the hallway carefully, moving slowly as he got used to the space outside his room. The hallway went in both directions, with only a little light. The silence was broken only by sounds far away that didn't come close enough to be a problem.

No one stopped him. That alone made him more watchful.

Elian moved slowly, not trying to get attention, not staying in one place long enough to be noticed. He passed closed doors, all looking the same, each one hiding what was behind it. The air felt different out here. Less closed in. But just as heavy.

He turned a corner, his steps quiet on the floor, his attention sharp as he listened for anything that might mean he needed to go back.

That's when he saw it. A door at the far end of the hallway was slightly open. It wasn't open wide enough to attract a lot of attention, but it stood out among the others. Every other door he had passed had been completely closed, leaving no space to be curious about. This one was different. The light near it was dimmer, and shadows stretched out on the floor as if the space inside pulled the light away instead of reflecting it.

Elian slowed down. Something about it felt wrong. There was no guard standing nearby. No sound of movement from behind it. Nothing that suggested it was important. And yet—that was exactly what made it feel that way.

He paused for a moment, his eyes fixed on the small opening. His instincts pulled him in two different ways. Part of him told him to walk away, to leave it alone and go back to the safety of what he already knew. The other part pushed him forward.

Curiosity won. He walked towards the door carefully, each step planned, his attention focused on the silence around him. The closer he got, the more he noticed it. A faint sound. It wasn't loud enough to be clear, but it was there, mixed into the quiet in a way that made it impossible to ignore. It wasn't just one noise. It was many sounds together. Movement. Breathing. Something being held back.

Elian stopped right in front of the door. His hand reached out, his fingers lightly touching the edge as he paused, giving himself one last chance to walk away. He didn't take it. He pushed the door open just enough to see inside.

The air changed right away. It felt colder, heavier, carrying something that filled his lungs the moment he stepped closer. The space beyond the door led down, a narrow staircase going into dim light below. The faint sounds became clearer. Voices. Low. Strained. Broken in a way that didn't sound like normal talking.

Elian's chest felt tight. He stepped inside. The door moved slightly behind him, the soft sound of it closing barely heard over the noise coming from below. Each step down felt heavier than the last, the walls seeming to close in a little as he went further down.

The smell reached him halfway down. He didn't want to know what it was. But he did.

When he reached the bottom, he stopped. The space opened up in front of him, wider than he expected, but not comforting at all. The light was dim, not steady, casting long shadows that stretched across the floor and walls.

And then he saw them. They were arranged in sections, separated by metal bars that made enclosures instead of rooms. Each one held someone inside. Some sat against the walls, their bodies slumped as if holding themselves up took more energy than they had left. Others lay still, moving very little, their presence quiet in a way that felt wrong.

No one shouted. No one fought. That silence felt deeper than anything else.

A man closest to him moved a little, his head lifting with effort as his eyes looked towards Elian. It took him a moment for his eyes to focus, for him to realize that someone new was standing there.

"New?" he asked, his voice rough, barely carrying across the short distance.

Elian didn't answer. He couldn't. His attention moved across the space, taking in details he couldn't ignore. The restraints. The marks left on skin. The way the people inside those enclosures didn't look surprised to be there. They looked... used to it.

That realization settled heavily in his chest. This wasn't temporary. This was normal for them.

A faint sound came from further down the line, getting his attention. Someone moved, and the soft sound of metal scraping against the floor followed the movement. Another person sat in the corner of an enclosure, almost hidden by shadows, their head lowered as if looking up took too much energy.

Elian felt something twist inside him. It wasn't shock. It wasn't just fear. It was something deeper. Something familiar.

His body reacted before his mind could catch up. Tension spread through him as something from his memory stirred, almost coming to the surface. He pushed it down right away, refusing to let it form.

He stepped back.

Then another step.

The air felt thicker now, harder to breathe. The weight of what he had just seen pushed down on him, making it difficult to stay there any longer.

He turned.

His focus went back to the stairs, the only way out of that place.

And then he stopped moving.

Dante was standing at the top.

Elian hadn't heard him arrive. That alone made him feel more alert.

Dante didn't move at first. He stood there, his eyes on Elian, looking at the scene below, the open space, the fact that Elian was standing in the middle of something he was never meant to see.