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Gilded cage Chapter 32

The night unfolded like a dream Olas had long dared not hope for. Every detail shimmered with a kind of magic that felt as though it had been plucked straight from his most romantic fantasies. It was not the grandness of the ballroom or the glittering sea of admirers that made the evening perfect, it was Leon. His presence alone made every flicker of candlelight warmer, every note of music sweeter, and every heartbeat in Olas's chest louder.

The mercenary had been everything he'd ever wished for and more. His gruff, no-nonsense exterior only made the glimpses of vulnerability beneath even more precious. Olas marveled at the soft shyness in Leon's demeanor, a stark contrast to his usual bravado. It was endearing, thrilling even, to know that he could inspire such a reaction.

As they danced, Olas felt every step, every turn, as though it wove threads between their hearts. Leon's hands, tentative at first, grew steadier with each song, and Olas reveled in the way he leaned into him. There was strength in those hands, an unspoken trust, as though Leon was quietly conceding that Olas might just be worth holding onto.

When the tempo slowed, they retreated to their table, where the world seemed to shrink to just the two of them. Through the arched windows, the stars stretched across the heavens like a celestial tapestry, their light bathing Leon in a soft glow that made Olas's heart ache.

“This," Olas murmured, his voice low and intimate, “is exactly what I've always dreamed of." His talons brushed against Leon's hand.

Leon glanced at him, his expression half-hidden in the shadows, but Olas could see the flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes. “What? A fancy ballroom and some music?"

“No," Olas replied, his tone as soft as the starlight. “You. Here with me." He let his beak curl into a warm smile. “Everything else is just... decoration."

Lips twitched, as though he were trying to fight a smile of his own. “You're good at this."

“At what, darling?" Olas asked, a hint of a smirk tugging at his beak.

“Making me feel..." Leon hesitated, then huffed as though annoyed with himself. “Like this."

Olas felt his chest tighten, warmth blooming there like a spell he couldn't control. “Then I consider tonight a success." He leaned closer, his talons resting lightly on Leon's hand. “And I swear, I'll spend every day ensuring you never feel anything less."

The sincerity in his own voice surprised him, but he meant every word. For all his power, all his titles, this moment was what truly mattered. Leon didn't need to see Olas as a lord or a mage. He needed to see him for who he truly was—and that was all Olas could ever hope for.

The dinners arrived with the flourish one might expect from a setting so refined. Each dish was a masterpiece, a blend of artistry and taste that spoke to the wealth of the gryphon lord. Paired with a fine wine that shimmered ruby-red in the candlelight, the meal felt like an extravagant prelude to something far more intimate.

Olas could feel the pulse of the evening's magic humming beneath his feathers. He had created many grand, sweeping spells in his life, but this—this was a magic that could never be conjured. This was Leon's touch, his laughter, the way he looked at Olas with that mix of tenderness and caution, like someone who had been broken in the past and was unsure whether he was ready to be whole again.

Ever the romantic, leaned in closer to him as they shared their meal. He would've sworn he could taste the sweetness of the evening on Leon's lips as they exchanged jokes, stories from their youth—things neither of them could have known they'd ever tell. He laughed softly as Leon reminisced about some ridiculous adventure he'd had, but it was when Leon smiled that Olas felt like he could do anything.

"And just imagine, each night could be like this," Olas murmured, his voice tender as he pulled Leon in closer, savoring the moment. The warmth between them, the way Leon hadn't flinched, hadn't pulled away. There was no denying it—this was everything Olas had

The look that flickered in Leon's eyes was one Olas had seen before, that quiet mischief, the playfulness he could always count on. "I admit," Leon said, his voice hushed but full of teasing, "that doesn't sound half bad. But" Leon continued, "I think we might need a little more excitement. Maybe a horse race or two... or, better yet, some wet gryphon contests. You know, to spice things up."

“Well, well," Olas chuckled, running a talon gently beneath Leon's chin, “So you're looking for a little more than just a dance, then?" He leaned in, his breath hot against Leon's ear. “Well, if you're in the mood for a contest," he purred, “I can think of a few ways to... pound some sense into you. Or perhaps you'd prefer I tie you up? I'm quite good at that, you know."

“Maybe later, we can test how soft your bum is." Leon stroked the gryphon's beak with a purr, “And it doesn't have to be that." Leon let the words tumble out with a mischievous grin. “But I am having a great time… and if you think this is fun, wait until I show you some festivals I've been to." He mimed dragging a tankard to his lips, then shot Olas a look over the rim. “Dwarves really know how to throw a fucking party."

Olas raised a brow, intrigued. “Oh? And what's so special about these dwarven parties?"

Leon leaned back in his seat; eyes gleaming with a knowing smirk. "You ever seen a dwarf lose his pants in the middle of a brawl over a keg of ale?" He took a deep breath, the excitement in his voice rising as he recounted the tale. “I was in this little town—real backwater place, but the festival there... gods, it was legendary. Every year, they'd throw this insane competition—Drunken Axe-Throwing—where the winner got free drinks for a month, but only if they could throw an axe and hit a target while completely hammered."

Blinking, Olas leaned in. “And let me guess, you participated?"

“Of course I did. But it's not the throwing that's the fun part." He leaned forward, lowering his voice to a mock-serious tone, “See, after you throw your axe, you have to— and I swear this is true—dance with the dwarf you just defeated. But here's the catch: you both must do it naked."

“What?"

“Oh, you think that's crazy? There was one guy—big guy, this mountain of a dwarf—who took the 'dancing' part too seriously. His partner was this scrappy little elf, right? And as soon as the music started, the dwarf grabbed the elf and just twirled him around the square, practically tossing him into the fire pit!" He let out a laugh, shaking his head. “It was a disaster. The elf got so dizzy; he ended up knocking over the entire ale stand. Dwarves, drunk out of their minds, chasing after him, yelling 'Bring back the beer!'. And the best part? The whole thing ended with the dwarf running around naked screaming about how he'd won the keg and the elf's heart."

"That… sounds like a disaster," he said, his voice still a little shaky, though his eyes glittered with amusement. "And you were… involved in all of this?"

“Hell, I didn't just watch. I won that damn contest—got the free ale for the month, and by the end of the night, I was making out with the elf who nearly got roasted by the fire." He chuckled, shaking his head in remembrance. “The festival didn't stop there, though. After that, they moved onto Mud Pit Wrestling. And let me tell you, mud's not the worst thing you can get stuck in when the dwarf barges in with an entire herd of goats..."

“You always have the funniest stories." Laughed the lord, covering his beak with a wing.

“Is that so?" You know," Leon began a lazy smirk curling on his lips. “I once had the pleasure of running into a certain lord at a party. Big guy, full of himself, all decked out in gold and velvet, like he thought he owned the place." Leon tilted his head, eyes narrowing as if in thought. “You know the type. Always walking around with their chin in the air, too much sophistication for their own good, talking like they've mastered the art of looking down at others."

He looked at Leon, his gaze narrowing suspiciously. “What happened to this lord?"

Chuckling the half-elf took another sip of his wine. “Oh, well. This lord, he was trying to impress everyone by being all mysterious, you know? Just too much mystery for his own good. It was so bad; I thought he might collapse from his own inflated ego." He leaned in a little, the teasing smile still in place. “But then, the fun part happened. The guy had a bit of a—how do I put this—reputation. You know, he had this… interesting habit of trying to stay cool, all the while looking like a horse who's seen his reflection in a puddle for the first time." Leon paused dramatically, letting the words sink in.

Olas froze, his feathers flaring in surprise. The image hit him like a thunderbolt. He knew exactly who Leon was describing now, and the implication made his stomach do a somersault. “Are you—"

“You see, this lord tried to impress a few people with his poise during a dance." Leon leaned forward, grinning widely. “But halfway through, he managed to trip over his own tail feathers—literally—and sent a table of fine wine and delicacies flying across the room." Leon paused, his eyes twinkling with delight. “The way he flailed about, trying to stay upright, made me wonder if he was more bird than gryphon."

“I... don't suppose you're referring to me, are you?" he asked, his ears having long since splayed.

Leon raised an eyebrow, giving Olas a sly grin. “Oh, I don't know... The hair is the same, the attitude, the feathers… But I could be wrong, right?" He leaned back in his seat, his playful smile softening a little. “That was a few years ago. I think you've improved since then. But that night... it wasn't all bad, right?"

“I—well, I suppose it could have been worse. You were there, after all," he replied, his voice softening. He paused, a small smile tugging at his beak. “But I don't think I've ever looked so ridiculous."

“Nah. You didn't look ridiculous. You looked… well, you. And I think you're damn fine, even when you're stumbling around like a new foal."

“You really think so?"

Leon nodded slowly, leaning in closer, his voice low and warm. “I do. Every damn time."

They kissed, passionately with eyes hooded. Olas could feel his pulse quicken, the slow burn of desire rising in him. He wasn't sure what to make of the sensation, a mix of sweet laughter and heat curling in his chest. He kissed back, pulling Leon closer, unable to resist the overwhelming need to press into him. His feathers tingled where their bodies touched, and his breath became shallow, warm against Leon's lips.

The world fell away, time had slowed, leaving them in their own private world, where no teasing stories or awkward moments existed—just the heat between them, the space where words were unnecessary.

"Ahem, Lord Olas." Came a voice to cut through the pleasurable haze.

Leon's hand remained on Olas's neck, but he could feel the intrusion like a cold gust of wind against his skin. He broke the kiss, “What the hell?" he snapped, the words dripping with sarcasm as he shot a glare at the intruders. “Can't you see we're in the middle of something? So, unless you want to get slapped into next week, I suggest you take your asses somewhere else!"

As Olas pulled back with the same energy as his beloved, ready to shoo away this interruption, his heart stopped dead. It wasn't the usual commoner or staff that he was accustomed to seeing, but something utterly terrifying, they were nobles.

Draped in fine, revealing silk, each gryphon wore their attire with the kind of effortless grace that spoke of years of wealth and careful grooming. The fabric shimmered in the light, an array of hues ranging from deep purples and blues to the rich golden tones that accentuated their noble stature. The embroidery was exquisite, delicate threads of shimmering gold tracing elaborate patterns across their cloaks and tunics, adding an almost ethereal quality to the fabric. Their feathers, carefully preened and pristine, caught the light like polished jewels. Each gryphon wore a bow tie around their neck.

Half a dozen noble gryphons filled the room, and Olas felt the weight of their eyes, each one of his father's inner circles, those he'd always been trained to respect and uphold. But now, here he was, amid them—this was no quiet affair, no private gathering of friends. He was, for all intents and purposes, a lord among lords, and yet… there was Leon. His heart dropped into his stomach.

“Lord Olas, I never thought I'd see the day," chirped a gryphon called Rhuval, one with dark blue feathers, his cobalt eyes gleaming with a mix of mischief and intrigue. He gave a short, low bow, his wings fluttering with the slightest touch of excitement. “I must admit, when word whispered of your attendance tonight, I thought it might be another one of those boring, staid affairs... but here you are, dazzling us all with quite the spectacle."

His gaze flicked toward Leon. “And what a display it was." His voice lowered just enough to make the suggestion clear, “To see you, Lord Olas, tangled up in such passion... here, of all places, it certainly is a bold choice." The gryphon's tail flicked behind him, "I must confess, I don't think I've been so... enthralled in a long while."

Olas' feathers pricked, a jolt of both embarrassment and irritation running through him. The other gryphons were starting to shift uneasily, eyes flicking back and forth between Olas and Leon, their thoughts likely running along the same lines. This wasn't just some private moment anymore, it was an event, a scandal, something to be gossiped about.

“I didn't expect such boldness from you, Lord Olas," Rhuven continued, “But I must admit, you certainly know how to make an impression. A very memorable one, at that. I daresay, such an... exhibition might even tempt me to indulge in such carnal desires.

“If you're quite finished," Olas said, his voice calm but cutting, “perhaps it's time you all move along. I'm sure you have more important matters to attend to than my entertainment." He shot a quick look at Leon, as though seeking some semblance of reassurance. His mind, however, was still racing, trying to figure out how to shut this down without losing face completely.

Rhuven, clearly amused by Olas' discomfort, stepped closer, his dark blue feathers shimmering in the dim light. His eyes twinkled as he studied Olas with a mix of mischief and curiosity. “You know, Lord Olas," he began, his voice low and inviting, “this has been quite the... show. But I must say, where is your wife in all of this?" He chuckled, leaning in slightly as though he were about to uncover some secret. “Shouldn't Isadora be here to witness such... intimate displays? Perhaps she's not as... open-minded as you."

“Oh, Isadora?" Olas said smoothly, a twinkle of playful mischief in his voice. “Well, you know how it is. Sometimes a gryphon needs to get out of the house, stretch his wings a little, find a bit of excitement."

The nobles around them were still whispering, their eyes flickering between Olas and Leon with a mixture of curiosity and barely veiled amusement. He almost had gotten their suspicion away, he just needed to bring it home. Olas, leaned into the moment. His wings fluttered just slightly as he nuzzled Leon's ear, his voice a low, velvety murmur that only the closest could hear. "You see, this one here..." He grinned, his talon lightly grazing Leon's side. "He's everything I could hope for—and more. A well-trained toy that indulges in whatever I require."

“Olas, what the hell- “Leon gave a low growl.

Olas gave a soft, playful nip at the side of Leon's neck, letting him know he had this under control. “Don't worry, he's a good boy," Olas continued, his voice a teasing purr. “Takes every bit of me, doesn't complain. It's hard to find someone who knows their place so well. But I suppose that's the kind of thing you can expect when you're as... well, experienced as I am."

He took a step back, examining Leon as if he were a prized possession, letting his gaze wander over the half-elf's form with open appreciation. "He's as strong as he looks, capable of more than you'd imagine. But what really gets me..." Olas leaned in closer to Leon, his breath warm against the back of his neck. "He can do for me whatever the misses wont." Olas chuckled, giving Leon's shoulder a quick, affectionate squeeze. “I'm sure you can imagine what I've trained him for,"

“I must say, Lord Olas," Rhuven began, eyeing Leon with intrigue, “you have quite an interesting taste in companions. I've never seen you so... possessive before."

“After all its not every day that a lord strolls through your business with his squeeze."

“What can I say? He's mine in every sense of the word." He narrowed his gaze, his tone shifting, “Now, what is it you wanted to discuss, Rhuven? It must be good to distract me away from my indulgences."

Rhuven gave a relaxed laugh, “Ah, same as ever. For a moment you had be believing that a scandal was afoot. That you'd fallen for this common…preener."

“Oh heavens no." Olas waved a wing with a disarming laugh, “You know it is, keep the excitement in a marriage alive. Upon our return, you can imagine how my wife and I will hurl ourselves at one another."

“Of that I would love to see."

** * * * * * * * *

Leon felt his chest tighten, his blood boiling with every word Olas spoke. He couldn't believe it. Toy? Plaything? That was what Olas thought of him? He wasn't some cheap companion to parade around for sport. The phrase “he's mine" twisted in his gut like a dagger. The way Olas looked at him, so casually possessive, so completely demeaning... it brought back flashes of Quintus. How that bastard had dominated him utterly, body and spirit, a tool, a possession, only to toss him aside when it was convenient.

His voice was a low growl, more controlled than he felt. “Excuse me?" His gaze flicked to Olas; the words spat out as if they tasted like poison. “Is this some kind of fucking joke? You think you can just show me off like I'm a prize? A fucking pet you can parade around for the amusement of your friends?"

He could feel their eyes on him. The nobles. Those smug, leering eyes. They were watching him as if he were nothing more than a spectacle. The whole damn room, a circus. They were all enjoying his discomfort, his fury. He could almost hear their laughter beneath the surface, like a distant murmur in the back of his mind.

But he wasn't going to stand for it. Not anymore.

“You think you can treat me like this and get away with it?" He shoved himself away from Olas with a snarl, “I've skewered assholes like you through the fucking heart."

The nobles chuckled again. They found it amusing. They thought it was some game—just another piece of drama to entertain them.

But not Olas. His amusement was far from diminished. Instead, there was something darker in the gryphon's eyes now, something predatory that made the hairs on the back of Leon's neck stand on end. He leaned in just slightly, his voice soft and teasing, his words dripping with mock sweetness. “Ah, my fiery little stallion," Olas purred. “I do love how you get so riled up. Such passion... So wild. But you know, Leon..." Olas' voice dropped lower, becoming laced with that familiar command. “You are mine. And when you're this naughty, I'll have to punish you. Later. Perhaps with leather bindings. A whip. And you know I love it when you get all knotted, squirming under me like that. Mmm... delightful."

“You really think this is funny, huh?" he snapped, stepping forward with an angry swagger, the words practically flying from his mouth. “I'm not your damn toy, Olas. I don't give a fuck if you're some big-shot gryphon lord with a bunch of feathers up your ass."

He gestured to the noble gryphons with a sharp jab of his hand, their snickering grating at his nerves. Leon's eyes burned with contempt. He wasn't backing down.

“You think I'm going to sit here like a good little hen while you gently remind me of how I'm supposed to be some 'good little slut,' huh? Well, guess what? I'm not! Had enough of that shit in Cliaran!" His voice rose with every word, the anger turning into a wild, almost manic laugh, but it was sharp—like a knife on the edge of control. “I tried to tell her, but no, she thought I should give you a chance. I'm glad you're just what I fucking thought, a pompous, full of himself asshole who shouldn't be given the time of day." He flipped off the nobles, “And the rest of you, suck my horse dick."

But Olas—cool, unbothered, and still wearing that mischievous grin—just watched Leon with lazy amusement, unphased by the fury radiating from him. He took a step toward Leon and rested a claw lightly on his shoulder. “Oh, I do love it when you get all fiery. You're such a passionate little thing." He purred with mock sweetness, a hint of challenge in his tone. “But you're really being quite rude, darling. We'll have to have a chat about this later, when I have you alone... unless you'd prefer a more... private reprimanding, hm?"

Before Leon could snap back again, feeling the fury building in his chest with no place for it to go, Olas held up his talons in a mock gesture of patience, but the look in his eyes wasn't one of tolerance—it was of unspoken command. He stepped back, his wings subtly shifting as he gave a knowing smirk.

Leon's breath was ragged as he opened his mouth to retort once again, but before he could speak, Olas raised his talon with a sudden, quick flick, muttering an incantation under his breath.

In an instant, the world around them seemed to blur, the laughter and chatter of the nobles fading into the background. Leon felt a brief but intense tugging at his core, a momentary sense of weightlessness. The room and the faces around him disappeared, as did the overwhelming crowd of noble gryphons.

When the world snapped back into place, they were no longer in the grand hall.

Instead, they stood in a lush, peaceful garden, bathed in the soft light of the moon, surrounded by exotic flowers and whispering winds. The manicured hedges framed the space, giving it an air of tranquility that sharply contrasted the tension they'd left behind. Olas smirked as he watched Leon's reaction, his gaze never leaving the half-elf's face.

“Well," Olas purred, his voice still carrying that calm yet commanding undertone, “I think it's best if we continue this conversation in private, don't you?"

He whipped around, glaring at Olas, his voice dripping with venom. “You've got to be kidding me!" he spat, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I should've known. Should've fucking known better than to fall for this—this joke of a relationship. This—" he gestured wildly at Olas, his voice thick with disgust, “—this shit show you keep pulling."

"Oh, Leon..." Olas sighed, almost with a laugh. "Really? You're upset?" He shook his head, a slight chuckle escaping his beak. "I suppose I should have anticipated you'd be upset, but honestly, darling, this is what comes with the territory." He gestured expansively with a delicate wing, as though it were obvious. "Do you think I could do some grand romantic gesture in front of the noble gryphons? That I could just hold you close, parade you around, and let the world see? No, Leon, no."

Clicking his tongue he shrugged, as though it were the simplest thing to understand. "You have to understand, there's a reason I had to act the way I did. I wasn't just playing around, you know. It's not that I don't care for you, it's just... well, it's just how it must be. People like us have... responsibilities."

Leon stood there, his eyes narrowed in a mix of disbelief and fury, his chest heaving with frustration. “Oh, great. Yeah, of course. It's all just some act, right? I mean, why wouldn't it be?" His voice was sharp, mocking now, his mouth twisting into a tight smirk as he shook his head. “You think I'm just some dumb idiot who'll swallow all this, huh? Just cause you talk all sweet and smooth with that gryphon charm?"

He threw his hands up in exaggerated frustration. “I mean, seriously, fuck this. I've had enough of this mind game bullshit." Leon turned away, his boots hitting the floor with a loud thud as he stormed toward the door. “I'll take a nice long walk back to Featherton. Maybe I'll enjoy the fresh air. Or maybe I'll tell Krantor and Hekate how I got played like a fiddle. That'll be fun."

Shaking his head he muttered under his breath, “Gods, I can't believe I let myself get sucked into this. No, no, this isn't happening. I'm done."

He imagined the concerned chirps and the soft rustle of feathers, knowing Krantor would probably greet him with some ridiculous, over-the-top gesture to cheer him up, maybe a goofy grin and a badly executed joke. Hekate, on the other hand, would be her usual calm, gentle self, wrapping him up in a hug and offering quiet comfort. At least with them, he didn't have to worry about reading between the lines. No games, no pretense, just love, simple and genuine.

“Excuse me? What's going on? What can't you take any longer?" Olas' voice wavered as he padded after Leon, his movements hesitant, his usual self-assuredness faltering. “Leon, wait, what have I done? What do you mean? Talk to me."

Leon whirled around, chest heaving, eyes flashing with a mix of hurt and fury. “What do you think it means?! I'm done with you and all your bullshit!" He snarled, “I'm done being your little dancing monkey! Your sexy toy, the one you call up for a quick fix whenever you feel like it!"

“Leon, darling, please..." Olas's voice, usually smooth as velvet, faltered. There was a crack in the façade he'd so carefully maintained, the control slipping from his grasp like sand through his fingers. He stepped closer, his wings fluttering with nervous energy, yet his face remained painted with the same languid, almost theatrical expression he wore like a mask. “You must understand, I was performing, my dear. An act! A show for the noble eyes around us. That's all it was, you know how it goes..."

“Oh, shut up, will you?" Leon interrupted, his eyes narrowing. “Don't play me for a fool. You can't just act like we're something when you don't even see me as a real person. I'm just a distraction for you to show off in front of your rich little friends. You don't give a damn about me, Olas." He took a breath and clenched his fists. “But maybe you've got everything figured out, huh? You control the world, you're the big fucking shot, so I guess I should just sit here and take it, right?"

Olas's eyes flickered with confusion. “Leon, please. You're upset, I understand that. I just—"

“You understand?!" Leon scoffed. “No, no, you don't." He shook his head. “You treat me like I'm nothing, then turn around and expect me to understand your little act? No, Olas, I'm done playing this game." He jabbed a finger toward him. “Go back to your precious nobles. Go suck up to them. Maybe they'll really care about your ego, huh? I've had enough of being your little pet project."

As Leon turned his back, determined to leave and never return, the ground before him split with a deep, resonant groan. In an instant, a living wall surged upward, its foundation of twisting vines writhing as if possessed by purpose. Thick tendrils coiled together with unyielding strength, forming an impenetrable barrier that stretched high into the air, cutting off any path forward. Thorns the length of a man's finger bristling from every inch, their razor-sharp tips gleaming with a warning not to dare approach. Among the deadly foliage, vibrant blooms of crimson, gold, and violet seemed to pulse with an inner light, their petals angled toward him like a thousand watching eyes. It stood as an undeniable testament to Olas's will—beautiful, menacing, and absolute.

He froze, hands clenched into fists, the nails biting into his palms as a chill spread through his chest. He hated this—being cornered, cut off, powerless. For all his brash confidence and sharp tongue, this was the one thing he couldn't stomach: the feeling of a leash tightening around his neck.

Wheeling about, he faced his jailor, his glare sharp enough to cut through steel. "Really, this is your play?" His voice dripped with venom, but beneath it, a tremor betrayed him. "Trapping me like some damn caged animal? What's next, Olas? Gonna string me up with those vines too, or are you content just keeping me prisoner?"

The gryphon's eyes, usually so calculating and regal, were softer now—pleading. But Leon couldn't stand the sight. It only stoked the fire raging in his chest.

"Let me go!" Leon demanded, his voice cracking. He gestured wildly at the wall. "Unless you're trying to prove you're my master. Is that it? Gonna lord this over me, show off just how helpless I am against you?" His lips twisted into a bitter smirk; his tone venomous. "That'll make me stay, for sure."

“No!" Olas replied, “I can't let you leave, Leon, not like this. Not when we haven't even—

“Let me go!"

“No!" Olas squawked, feathers bristling. “You don't understand—I just need you to listen!"

A bitter laugh escaped, sharp as glass. “Talk? What's there to talk about? You don't get to trap me like this, Olas. You don't get to pin me here and act like we're equals in this conversation. You're pulling the same power games you always do."

A flicker of hurt crossed Olas's face, but he stood his ground. Talons dug into the dirt as he stepped closer. “Help me understand, then," he said, voice steady but pleading. “Please. I love you."

The declaration stopped Leon cold for a heartbeat. He looked away, anger seeping through his clenched teeth. “You've got a real twisted idea of love, you know that?"

“It's not that simple," Olas murmured, the fire in his earlier tone giving way to something softer, more fragile. His feathers quivered as he searched for words. “I've made mistakes. But my feelings for you… they're real. I love you, Leon."

Leon's bitter laughter rang out, sharp and cutting. “You love me?" he asked, his voice dripping with disbelief. “You're a prince, Olas. A lord of magnificent power, wrapped in perfection. You could have anyone, anyone in the gods' damned world, and yet you stand here telling me you want me?" His eyes blazed, the heat of his anger rising. “Why? Why would someone like you want someone like me?"

He paced, his voice rising with every word. “So, stop with the bullshit, stop leading me along, giving me those pretty eyes. Just admit it, be fucking real, admit you're just some noble getting your jollies off by being naughty. Letting a commoner fuck your sexy ass or bending him over so you can rut him hard. That's all it ever was, a way to satisfy your perverted bird needs…" His hands were trembling,

Olas's feathers bristled, his usual composure faltering. “Leon, that's not—"

“Don't!" Leon's voice cracked like a whip, his finger jabbing toward Olas. “I've heard what you think of my friends, how you look down on them. Hell, how you look down on me. You treat everyone beneath you like they're less important. Just pawns to toy with. And me? I was stupid enough to fall for it. I actually thought—" He stopped, his voice catching before he shook his head, eyes burning.

“But I do care!" Olas tried to interject, but Leon shouted him down.

“Yes, because you love me." Leon scoffed, “I've met assholes like you before, yaknow? Stringing people along with broken promises—love, affection, all that crap—but it's just poison. Do you even get what you've done to me? Twisted me up in knots, making me hope, pray, that maybe, just maybe, you actually gave a shit about me." He shook his head, unable to look upon the gryphon, “I can't believe you'd be this cruel, dangling 'love' in front of me like a fucking carrot. You just want to keep me under your paws, don't you? You're a sick fuck, Olas." Turning his back, Leon clenched his fists, breath coming quick and shallow. “Now, let me go. Or just fucking kill me. I'm done with this fantasy, and I've got gryphons to get to."

Olas stood frozen for a long moment, the weight of Leon's words crashing over him. His wings drooped, and the light in his eyes faltered. He opened his back, but no words came. The powerful lord who could conjure fantastical feats, appeared to be at a loss. Tail twitching, hinds quivering, it was then that he found his voice.

“If you were nothing but a toy, a fancy for which to indulge my dark desires…" Olas' voice trembled with the effort, but he pressed on, “Then tell me why my soul tears to ribbons when you're not here? Explain why I long to hear your voice on our days apart? Leon, I ache for you in ways I cannot explain."

His voice faltered, but he quickly steadied himself, fighting to maintain the composure he had spent so long building. "You were my first, Leon," he continued, each word coming slower than the last, as if dragging itself from the depths of his heart. "The first to make me feel more alive than I've ever known. You gave me freedom, not in the way of politics or power, but in a way that made me feel whole. Before you, Isadora…she was chosen for me, a mere stranger within my house—a tool for manipulation. But you... you lit something I'd never known I'd craved; shown colors I'd never seen. Leon, when I look upon you…you may doubt me, but I understand what it means to feel something real."

As Leon stood, mind spinning, the lord took his chance to close the distance between them. “You stand there, asking what I see in you? I don't need perfection Leon. I don't need someone who can't fall apart. I need you. I want you. And I'm terrified of losing you, of never getting the chance to make you see that I'm not trying to control you."

He took a deep breath, steadying himself, but there was no hiding the desperation in his eyes. "I would never hurt you. Do you hear me? Never. You have no idea how much it pains me to see you hurt, to think that I might have been the cause of it. That you believe I think so little of you…Leon…I think the world of you."

Leon stared at Olas, his heart hammering in his chest, his mind a mess of doubts and questions. The gryphon's words—raw and desperate—hung in the air, impossibly heavy. He wanted to believe, gods did he want to, but his mind was too clouded, too scarred by the past. He opened his mouth to argue, but the words didn't come right away. Instead, he shook his head, as if to clear away the confusion.

“You want me to trust you... just like that?" Leon said, the bitterness of his voice faltering as he continued. “You've spent so long treating me like... like I'm nothing. You didn't care. And now, suddenly, I'm supposed to believe you when you say you're not playing with me?"

His voice cracked, and for a moment, the fight drained out of him. His eyes flickered to Olas, to the way the gryphon's expression had softened, to how the noblegryphon was looking at him, as though he had found something in Leon he hadn't seen before. That look—it hurt, because it was too much, too honest. Too real.

He shook his head, stepping back as if to escape from the words Olas was weaving around him. "I can't do this," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "I can't keep believing you when everything's just... so fucked up. You don't know what it's like, what it's like to actually need someone, to really need them, and have them walk away without a second thought. I don't want to be your... your game."

“I'm not playing with you," Olas whispered. “I swear to you on the air which we breathe, Leon." The gryphon reached into one of his pouches, producing a small, delicately adorned box. “I was meaning to give you this later, but I can see its presence is required." He opened it slowly, and inside rested something Leon hadn't expected—a single, gleaming rustic feather. It was of course Olas' own, no doubt plucked with care. It seemed to shimmer in the dim light, a touch of warmth in the cool air.

Olas plucked the feather carefully, as if it were the most precious thing in the world and extended it to Leon. His voice was soft, almost reverent. “Do you know what this means, Leon?"

Leon's breath caught, and for the first time, his heart stumbled. He knew. He knew, and yet his mind fought against it. A feather from a gryphon was not just a gift—it was a bond, a symbol of the deepest trust and devotion. It was a gesture of rare intimacy, of unspoken but deeply felt love. His hand twitched, as though it might reach out to accept it, but his body refused to move. He couldn't bring himself to take it, to allow himself to believe that something so beautiful and so genuine could be offered to him, of all people.

He could see it, though. The sincerity in Olas' eyes. The way he held the feather, like it was a piece of his soul, to offer and surrender.

And Leon—Leon wanted to believe. “Why?"

“You are everything to me. You are more than anyone I have ever known. I... I care for you in a way that cannot be measured, cannot be described. I would sacrifice all that I am to see you happy, to see you at peace." Olas was now but a hand away, tears swelling in his eyes, “And I will spend every moment of my life ensuring that you know... that you feel it in the deepest part of your soul that I burn for you brighter than Sartren's stars."

With trembling wings, the walls that trapped him collapsed. Olas bowed his head deeply, nearly touching the ground in a show of reverence, of submission, of love. “So, I offer you this choice, my heart's deepest desire: to show you that you have the freedom to choose, that your will is your own," he whispered, his voice trembling with the effort. “You may depart, never to see me again. I will understand. I am sorry for the pain I have caused you. But—" He swallowed hard, the words thick in his throat, “If you stay, if you choose to trust me, I will tear away at the walls that separate us, brick by brick, until there is nothing left between us but the pure truth of what I feel."

Leon's voice was sharp, “What's your game, Olas?" The words tasted bitter on his tongue, and he shook his head, as though trying to rid himself of the sea threatening to drown him. “Do you think you can sweet-talk your way into making me come back to you? That I'll fall for all this?" His breath caught in his chest as his emotions swirled, fighting for dominance, his heart pounding painfully in his ears. “Cause I—"

He stopped, unable to finish the sentence. He wanted to rage, to lash out, to shove Olas away with everything he had. Yet in the pit of his stomach, something gnawed at him—an unfamiliar feeling that had been growing with each word Olas spoke. The gryphon's presence was overwhelming.

For all the bravado he tried to cling to, Leon knew the truth now, and the truth was terrifying. He didn't know what to do with it.

Without thinking, without understanding what compelled him to act, Leon moved. His hands shot out, grabbing Olas with desperate urgency, pulling him close as if he couldn't bear the space between them for another second. The heat of Olas' body was searing, and when their tongues met, it wasn't with the calculated restraint of before—it was a collision of need and raw emotion. Leon's breath stuttered as he pressed into the gryphon, his hands clutching at the feathers he had once feared would betray him.

The kiss was wild, untamed—a storm breaking free after too long a wait. Leon's thoughts dissolved into nothingness as his senses exploded. He felt the soft tremor of Olas' wings, the heat of his skin, the powerful thrum of his heartbeat beneath his touch. Every muscle in his body screamed for more, for something he couldn't even name. His head spun, and the fireworks that ignited in his chest were like nothing he had ever felt. Every doubt he'd held onto, every belief that had kept him from giving in to this, vanished in the wake of Olas' kiss.

This was real. This was him.

He held Olas tighter, as though to prove to himself that this wasn't a dream, that the gryphon wasn't a figment of his imagination. When they finally pulled away, both were panting for breath, Leon's heart still raced in his chest, but now the uncertainty that had clung to him was gone. For the first time in his life, he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

Olas' wings swept around them like a shield, holding him close as he gazed down at Leon with such tenderness that it felt as though the gryphon were about to break into a thousand pieces. His voice was low, filled with a quiet reverence. “Oh, Leon," he breathed, his words like a soft prayer. “I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I swear, it was only an act for the-“

A kiss shushed the gryphon's words, fingers clenching tight his feathers. He was forgiven, Leon knew, he was just too stubborn to see through the haze that blinded him. When they eventually parted, he was left gasping, locked into the gryphon's gaze. “I…" He stuttered at first, heart burning, “Olas…I fucking love you."

A pleased trill escaped him, the gryphon nuzzling at his face, “Do you know how hard it was to not say hump away your doubts?"

“I bet you did, you dirty bird." He laughed, collapsing to the dirt with the gryphon still in his grasp. His eyes rolled, so did his hips, eyes gleaming with mischief. “So…shall we?"

A purr left Olas, a gentle talon caressing his chin. “I thought you'd never ask."

Without another thought they were upon one another. Tongues jousted for control, the sounds of their passion swiftly filling the night air. Nothing mattered as they tasted one another, grabbing hold of warm feathers as talons gently caressed flesh. Leon gently moaned the gryphon's name, for the first time, knowing it mattered.