When Elias came to, his face was pressed against cold stone, and something soft and disturbingly warm was drooling on his shoulder.
He groaned, blinked twice, and tried to sit up—only to find a small, half-naked girl draped across his chest like a particularly clingy blanket. Her long black hair fanned across his torso, soaked and sticky with what he hoped wasn't embryonic goo. Tiny horns curled from her scalp like obsidian thorns. Her breathing was slow and even, her bare chest rising and falling softly.
And she was clinging to him with both arms. Tight.
"…Wha…?"
Elias blinked again.
Right. The cocoon. The explosion. The—
He froze.
His left hand burned.
He yanked up his sleeve and saw it: a mark etched deep into his palm, as if carved by molten metal. A rune—dark red, angular, and ominously alive—throbbed with a dull glow.
It looked like a crown made of horns, encircled by a ring of flame.
"Hell no," Elias muttered, pulling his hand back like it had caught fire. "No, no, no. This is not happening. Tell me this is a fever dream. Or a hallucination. Or a prank by the Diviner's Guild. Come on, stars above, give me a break—"
The girl stirred.
He froze again, watching as she slowly lifted her head. Her eyes fluttered open.
Red. Bright, sharp, glowing crimson.
Her gaze found his instantly, locking onto him like a magnet. Then she blinked, tilted her head—and smiled.
Elias swallowed.
"…Hi?"
Her smile widened.
Then, without warning, she crawled up his chest and bit his neck.
"OW! What the—?!"
He scrambled backward, nearly slamming into a shattered column. The girl tumbled with him, still clinging on, her tiny mouth latched to his shoulder.
"Stop that! I'm not food! What are you doing?!"
She released him with a quiet pop and looked up, licking her lips.
Then she spoke.
"Mine."
"…What."
Her voice was small, raspy, like she hadn't used it in centuries. She pressed a hand to his chest.
"Mine," she repeated, firmly this time.
"Lady, I don't even know your name!"
She paused at that, blinking slowly. Her nose wrinkled. Then she sniffed the air around him like a puppy.
"Smells… warm. Safe."
"I bathed last week," Elias muttered under his breath.
Suddenly, a sharp heat bloomed from the mark on his palm. It flared with light, and a pulse of magic rippled through the chamber. Runes along the wall flared in response before fading into silence.
Elias felt it, in the pit of his soul—a tug, like a chain being drawn taut between him and… her.
The girl's eyes fluttered shut. She sagged forward again, wrapping her arms around his neck and whispering, "Bonded…"
And with that, she passed out.
Elias just sat there, stunned. Bleeding slightly. Slightly bonded. Entirely panicking.
"I'm going to die," he whispered.
A Little While Later…
He didn't remember how he got outside.
One moment, he was internally screaming; the next, he was sitting on the broken steps of the ruin with the girl swaddled in his cloak like a sleeping kitten from hell. Her head rested in the crook of his arm, and every few seconds she'd murmur something like "Warm…" or "Mine…"
He wasn't sure if it was adorable or terrifying.
Probably both.
The mark on his palm still throbbed, but the pain had dulled to a background buzz. He was more concerned with the implications. He'd studied magical pacts. He knew what a blood bond meant.
It was ancient soul magic. Dangerous. Powerful. Forbidden in most kingdoms for good reason.
And somehow, this tiny demon child had cast one accidentally.
He looked down at her again. Her face was soft, rounded with baby fat, though her aura still prickled against his senses like static lightning. She looked too young to even write her name, let alone bind souls with forbidden arcana.
Who the hell was she?
"Alright," Elias muttered, "let's think this through."
He ticked off points on his fingers.
"One: you're not dead. That's a win. Two: she hasn't eaten you. Yet. Three: there's now an ancient demon seal on your body that links your soul to a mysterious cocoon child with eldritch eyes and bitey tendencies."
Pause.
"Okay, this is bad."
A chirp made him flinch. Not from the girl—a bird. A real one, high in a dead tree. Life was returning. The magic holding the ruin in stasis had ended.
Which meant he had to move. Fast.
He gathered his satchel, checked her over quickly (no visible wounds, though she was burning with mana like a sun), and scooped her up awkwardly. She snuggled closer.
"Mmm… soft…"
"That's not me, that's the cloak," he said, trying not to feel weird about being cuddled like a teddy bear.
Her tail curled loosely around his forearm.
"…You have a tail," he noted aloud, blankly.
"Mmhm. Yours."
Elias sighed so hard it hurt.
Back at the Guild
Sneaking a mysteriously bonded demon child into the Guild of Restoration without drawing attention was, in hindsight, a terrible idea. But Elias didn't have a better one.
He slipped in through a side gate after dark, carrying her bundled in blankets like a sickly niece. Thankfully, the night guard didn't ask questions—probably assumed she was some poor waif from the slums.
He reached his assigned quarters—a glorified storage closet with a cot—and closed the door quietly behind him.
Revantra (he didn't know her name yet, but that's who she was) was still sleeping peacefully.
He set her on the cot. She immediately rolled over and latched onto his pillow.
Elias stared at her for a moment, then slumped against the wall.
"What am I supposed to do with you?"
She didn't answer. But the bond pulsed softly again—like a heartbeat in sync with his own.
And despite everything—the danger, the insanity, the sheer impossibility—he didn't feel fear.
He felt… wanted.
And that terrified him more than anything else.
To be continued…