The Collar That Binds

Elior turned the silver cuff over in his palm, the blood-red gemstone catching the light like a drop of frozen fire.

Mine.

Just one word—but it hit harder than a thousand.

The jewelry wasn’t just a gift.

It was a warning. A claim. A leash disguised as luxury.

And worst of all, it was elegant. Expensive. Exactly his style. Damien knew him too well—even in this timeline.

Elior exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing. “You remember, don’t you?”

He wasn’t certain—yet. But the way Damien looked at him, the scent comment, the timing of the cuff…

If Damien had memories of the past life too, that changed the game entirely.

And Elior hated games he couldn’t fully control.

He snapped the box shut.

“I’m not yours,” he whispered, voice cold as winter. “Not this time.”

---

The next morning, Elior entered the academy grounds with the poise of a crowned prince.

The Royal Academy of Noble Bloods wasn’t just an elite school—it was a political battlefield wrapped in marble columns and gold trim. He'd wasted his past life here chasing empty friendships and trying to impress Alphas who only wanted to dominate him.

This time? He walked these halls like a silent blade—beautiful, polished, and dangerous.

Students turned to stare. Some whispered.

“He’s the Caelum Omega, right?”

“Too pretty to be real.”

“But no Alpha has marked him?”

“Think he’s hiding something?”

Let them gossip. He wanted eyes on him—it made it easier to feed lies.

As he passed through the central courtyard, a figure detached from the shadows, falling into step beside him.

“Morning, little moon.”

Elior didn’t need to look to recognize the voice.

“Valen,” he replied smoothly, not slowing his pace. “Stalking already? It's not even noon.”

Damien chuckled under his breath. “You wound me. I simply came to walk with my future mate.”

Elior halted so fast Damien nearly collided with him.

He turned, smile venomous.

“Future mate?” he echoed, voice sweet like poisoned honey. “You sent me a collar like I’m some pampered pet, and now you call me your mate?”

Damien stepped closer, voice dropping to a low growl. “Because you are. You just haven’t accepted it yet.”

“I never will.”

Elior’s words hit like a slap, but Damien didn’t even flinch. His eyes locked with Elior’s, stormy and unreadable.

“You did once.”

There it was.

The confirmation.

Elior’s breath caught—but only for a second. He covered it with a scoff.

“You remember.”

Damien said nothing. But the glint in his eyes spoke volumes.

Elior’s fingers curled into fists at his sides. So he wasn’t the only one granted a second life. Fate really did have a cruel sense of humor.

“I loved you once,” Elior said softly. “You let me die.”

“I didn’t—”

“You watched,” he cut in sharply. “You chose to let it happen.”

Silence.

Damien’s jaw clenched. “I couldn’t protect you then. But I will now. Even if I have to chain you to me.”

There it was. The truth. The threat.

Possessive. Brutal. Honest.

Elior stepped even closer, lifting his chin, close enough to smell Damien’s scent—warm, stormy, laced with control.

“Then I’ll break every chain you put on me, Damien,” he whispered, voice like a razor.

And he meant it.

---

Later that evening, Elior met with someone far more useful than his obsessive Alpha.

Callen Reiss—a Beta, older, cunning, and someone who owed Elior’s father more than a few favors. In his past life, Callen had been a quiet advisor to the court. But Elior knew now that Callen was far more than that.

“I need resources,” Elior said, voice low.

Callen raised a brow. “That’s quite the opening line.”

“I don’t have time for pleasantries.”

Callen studied him. “You’re different.”

“I should be,” Elior said smoothly. “Being left for dead changes a person.”

Callen didn’t ask what he meant. He wasn’t a fool.

“What kind of resources?”

“Information. Surveillance. Private security. And someone to dig into Damien Valen’s current power structure.”

Callen let out a low whistle. “You're not just planning defense.”

“No,” Elior said with a cold smile. “I’m planning war.”

---

That night, back in the Caelum estate, Elior stood at the window, watching the moon.

He didn’t wear the cuff Damien sent him.

He hadn’t thrown it away either.

It sat in a locked drawer—one reminder of who he used to be, and what he refused to become again.

A knock sounded at the door.

He didn’t answer.

A beat later, the door creaked open anyway.

Only one person would dare.

“Invading my space now?” Elior asked without turning around.

Damien’s voice was soft, but no less intense. “You’ve always belonged in my space.”

Elior turned to face him.

“No. I belonged to myself. And I still do.”

Damien’s eyes flickered to the drawer—the one holding the cuff. Then back to Elior.

“You kept it.”

Elior shrugged. “I also keep knives. Doesn’t mean I plan to use them.”

A long silence.

Then Damien said quietly, “I won’t let you go, Elior.”

Elior stepped forward, face inches from his.

“Then try and hold me,” he said coldly. “And I promise, Damien—you’ll bleed for it.”

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***