Eternally Bound by Blood(Dark Bl)

Eric's fists clenched tight, his nails biting into his palms as he took a hesitant, almost trembling step forward. The sound of Alaric's voice pulled him closer, a seductive command beneath the mocking edge. Rage and raw hunger surged through his veins, each step a drawn out struggle as he edged nearer to the figure lounging before him. Alaric's taunts cut deep, shredding at his pride and twisting the strange bond between them—a bond Eric despised but could not deny.

Long before he had met Alaric ,it felt like there was a constant pull towards him.Maybe that was what drew him to the caves of Alaric's prison.

Stopping just within arm's reach, Eric's gaze bore into Alaric's with fury. His breath came quick as he spat,

"This… all of this is because of you. You've chained me, bound me to a hunger I can't control, turning me into your pet."

A glimmer of amusement flickered in Alaric's eyes, and he leaned forward, close enough that Eric could feel the warmth of his breath against his skin. His dark gaze traced slowly over Eric, like he was studying every defiant line of his face, savoring the fury brimming just below the surface.

Alaric moved his fingers with a infuriating slowness, undoing the buttons one by one from the shirt the hunters had forced on him. Each small pop of the buttons falling off with his claw seemed louder in the silence, amplifying the intimacy of the moment. His touch was deceptively gentle, fingertips brushing against skin as he pushed the shirt open, exposing Eric's muscular chest inch by inch. There was a quiet dominance in the way he handled him, a silent assertion that he was in control.

When Alaric's fingers finally trailed over Eric's bare skin, the touch lingered just a little too long, his thumb tracing faint, possessive circles over Eric's collarbone. It was a teasing sort of claim, one that set fire beneath the surface, and Eric couldn't decide if he was the prey caught in Alaric's grasp—or something more.

Alaric leaned in close, his nose skimming the air near Eric's neck as he inhaled slowly, testing for any trace of a bond. The faint scent hit him, unmistakable—a claim he hadn't chosen, tying him to something he found beneath him. His features tightened in fury, eyes flashing with a dark, venomous anger before they faded back to their original, cold intensity. His blackened eyes shifted to a sharp, icy gaze, and his teeth returned to their perfect, white edge, as if he'd shed a mask.

He pushed Eric back abruptly, shoving him with a force that made his own contempt painfully clear. Alaric's expression twisted with confusion and fury, his eyes flickering with suspicion. He knew the binding was genuine, its pull unmistakable, but the thought clawed at him.

"This is the witches' doing, isn't it?" he spat, his voice a harsh whisper as if speaking the words left a bitter taste. "To bind me to someone so... pathetically weak." He shook his head, as though trying to shake off the very idea, and looked back at Eric with raw disdain, struggling to accept the connection forced upon him.

Eric's eyes flickered with dark fury as he gazed upon Alaric but he said nothing ,watching him silently.

Alaric's eyes remained fixed on Eric, yet there was a shadow of doubt flickering across his normally composed features. He looked down at his hand as if it had betrayed him, then back at Eric, as though the answer to this unwanted connection might somehow lie hidden in his expression.

"This binding… it's not something that should happen by chance... a true bond isn't some careless spell."he muttered almost to himself,the frustration sharpening his voice.

His jaw clenched, his mind whirling as he dug through his memories, dredging up details he'd nearly forgotten.

Killian had taught him everything he claimed to know about such rituals, though Alaric had never taken much interest in the ancient practices. He could still recall that night—the one time Killian had insisted on explaining the intricacies of bonding magic. Alaric had initially dismissed it, uninterested in what he'd considered a twisted relic from darker, forgotten magic. But there had been something about Killian's demeanor that night, something that had put him on edge.

Killian's voice had held a strange, unsettling weight, his words rolling out in a low, almost hypnotic rhythm. There'd been a gleam in his eyes—one Alaric recognized as Killian being up to no good, something he hadn't yet understood. As Killian spoke of bonds that could control fate and bind souls for all eternity, his voice had taken on an obsessive intensity that seemed almost feverish, as if he were savoring the power in the ritual rather than merely describing it.

Even then, Alaric had sensed that Killian wasn't telling him everything. The pauses, the slight smirk curling at his lips whenever Alaric asked a question that went unanswered—all of it hinted at a knowledge Killian preferred to keep hidden. And the memory itself was hazy, like a half-remembered nightmare. He remembered sitting there, listening to Killian's twisted fascination, and then…nothing. Just a blankness, a jarring gap in his memory, before he'd woken up the next day as though nothing had happened.

Now, with this bond forced upon him, Alaric couldn't stop himself from thinking. Had Killian really not told him everything? Did the witches knew how to bond him without him knowing ? Alaric's jaw tightened suspicion brewing beneath his cold gaze.

Killian was always up to no good and withholding important information such as a bond was something meager to what Killian would do for 'fun'.

For now he would brush it off because to him it was impossible now for Killian to have anything to do with Eric .

"Who would have dared…?" he whispered, his voice laced with both anger and a flicker of confusion, as though the entire concept was unraveling his sense of control. "Was it really the witches again?"

But his gaze returned to Eric, a mixture of rage and vulnerability flashing behind his eyes.

Eric stood unemotional,he could sense Alaric's mind drifting and without him even realizing, he found himself clenching his fist until he drew blood. The tension between them thickened, a tangible heat rising.

Eric swallowed hard, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt. His voice was barely a whisper as he forced out, "You… you really didn't do this." His hands curled into fists, nails biting into his palms, fighting the urge to strike, to take control of the rage clawing up his throat.

Alaric's gaze softened almost mockingly. "Binding myself to you? I'd never fall that low."