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Summary:

"Did he do that?"

"Answer me, sweetheart. Did he do that to you?"

You couldn't answer.

"Fine, then. Everyone dies."

Sylus's kitten gets stolen from right under his nose. You don’t believe you'll be saved. But little do you know, crows love pretty things.

Notes:

i'm such a sucker for a good savior fic so this all of my desires crammed into 4000 words

this is my first fic in a VERY long time, so please please be gracious!! happy reading!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The minutes turned into hours as you stared at the blank expanse of the stone wall before you. It was uneven, made of gray bricks which you counted to total five hundred and seven. Yes, you had counted. You had nothing but time and the blinding pain in your shoulder on your hands, after all.

A flickering, low-hanging lightbulb above your head in the center of the ceiling was your sole light source, and the other three walls closed in around you to form a cramped room. To your back was the door. The sole way out of this room, judging by the absence of windows or vents of any kind.

You shifted in the bindings that kept you tied to your chair and hissed. The pain in your shoulder flared up again, fluttering and spasming across your swollen muscle. It had been dislocated during the kidnapping. You’d been unceremoniously dumped in this empty room ever since.

Closing your eyes, you recounted the day’s events once more, just to keep yourself sane. You had visited Sylus out of the blue in the morning on important business. If simply wanting to see your enemy-turned-begrudging-ally could be called important business. Sylus had grown on you in the short time you’d been working together, more than you’d like to admit. Enough to cause a fluttering in your heart whenever he flashed you one of those absolutely infuriating smirks.

You’d long since given up on attributing the flutters to the Aether Core in your heart.

In any case, Luke and Kieran had informed you that Sylus had been out to silence some scuffle in a different part of the N109 Zone, so you’d turned to leave. As much as you wanted to see him, you weren’t about to sit around like some puppy waiting for its owner. But as soon as you’d stepped outside his house, you’d been struck directly in the shoulder before you could react. A blinding pain, unending darkness, and you’d woken up here.

Counting bricks to keep yourself from going insane.

Over and over.

Hoping for rescue was fruitless. Sylus wouldn’t come after you. He didn’t see you as anything more than prey, to be hunted down and used, then discarded. Onychinus and Hunters weren’t two things that exactly mixed. Sylus wouldn’t take the risk that came with rescuing you, a technical enemy if a temporary ally, from an unknown threat. The thought lumped up in your throat and pricked your eyes, but you didn’t let it get to you. It didn’t matter. He didn’t matter.

He mattered to you just as much as you mattered to him.

Which meant that you weren’t getting rescued.

Back to counting bricks.

You’d made it to brick number four hundred sixty nine for the fifth time when the door behind you opened with a soft click. You didn’t have to turn around to know it wasn’t a savior—the footsteps weren’t ones you recognized, and neither was the sneer that defiled your ears after the door was shut.

“So you’re the sweet little thing that’s gotten Sylus all soft.”

You struggled against your bindings, despite how much it hurt.

“Who the hell are you?” you demanded. “What do you want?”

“Leverage,” the voice whispered, now standing directly behind your chair. “An upper hand, if you will. But that Aether Core beating in your heart doesn’t sound so bad either.”

Swallowing dryly, you craned your neck to see a man with deep smile lines and dark green eyes flashing behind a pair of thin gold-wire glasses looking down at you. One of his thinning, dusty brown hairs drifted down to your face. You nearly threw up when the disgusting strand made contact with your skin, shaking your head to get it off.

“Go to hell,” you spat. The man simply laughed.

“Oh, I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” he said with a grin. “The N109 Zone is hell.”

His shoulders shook with a repressed laugh for a moment before he leaned back, letting out a howl that triggered your acid reflux.

“You could fetch a heavy price,” the man said, the last wheezes of his laughter punctuating the words as he returned his gaze to you. He ran a finger along your jaw. “Yes, a pretty little penny. Ignorant little Linkon lady with a cute face and a sharp tongue. But I have bigger plans for you than auctioning you away here.”

“What is this place?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Think of it as a market.” The man leaned in, his breath ghosting your nose. It reeked. Of what, you didn’t know. Corruption, maybe. “For goods of all sorts.”

Information, weapons, the like. You didn’t need him to elaborate any further. You were most likely in some information group, or mercenary base. You took a deep breath. One clue, one more step to freedom.

That you would have to get to alone, because Sylus wasn’t coming. You bit back the storm of miserable thoughts. Suddenly, freedom seemed very out of reach. Get a grip. You were a Hunter. You could find your own way out of this.

Yet Sylus’s name echoed in your mind as you spat out another question.

“What do you want with me?”

“With you? Nothing.”

Your eyes widened. “Then why the hell am I here?”

“I told you, sweetie. Leverage,” the man sneered. The nickname sent another sour taste into your mouth. It sounded so graceful when rolling off of Sylus’s tongue, and yet…

“Against who?”

“Who else? Sylus.”

Your eyes widened. Sylus? He was trying to get to Sylus through you? Why?

“And what do you want with Sylus?”

The man scoffed. “What doesn’t anyone want with Sylus?”

Fair point. “I mean you specifically.”

“I want Onychinus,” the man said with a shrug, drawing away from your face. You could breathe again. “The power, the organization. I want the N109 Zone.”

“What grandiose dreams.”

“I know.” There was a wild gleam in the man’s eyes, and something about it told you that he hadn’t taken your dryness as a joke. “This hell… ruling over it, it would make me the Devil himself. But unfortunately, there already is a Devil. And I’m not one to share places.”

You wanted to spit in his face. “Neither is he.”

“Lucky for him, he won’t be needing to in a few hours.” The man checked his wristwatch. “Or however long it takes him to realize his precious girl has been kidnapped from right under his nose. I left him a trail to track, but let’s see how long it takes him to follow the crumbs before poor Gretel’s eaten up.”

You tried to ignore the way the man referred to you as Sylus’s. As if the two of you could be linked in such a way that you could be called his. You weren’t Sylus’s. He might have seen you as his chattel, but that was about as deep as your relationship ran.

“He won’t be coming,” you said quietly. Nothing new. If Sylus were to have rescued you, he would have ages ago. He wasn’t one to take his time. But voicing the thoughts made something break inside of you.

“Then you’ll die, and I’ll lose nothing.” The man circled around your chair to face you, pulling a gun out of his long coat and inspecting it for show. He tutted when he saw your face. “Don’t be so tense, sweet thing. Maybe, if you’re good, I’ll keep you around even after I take Sylus’s place.”

A million thoughts flicked through your mind as you eyed the gun in the man’s hands. You tested the bindings on your wrists again. They weren’t going to give any time soon, and your weapons had been taken away, judging by the absence of the familiar weight of your pistols on your hips. Chances at escape? Close to nil. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in a feeble attempt to calm yourself. A chilling sense of certainty creeped into your mind. You were going to die here.

Might as well go down swinging.

“You know, to take Sylus’s place, don’t you think you’d need to surpass him in every department?” you said, giving your best attempt at a mocking grin.

The man unlocked the safety on the gun. “I do.”

Eyeing the gun, you swallowed dryly. What you were about to say was dangerous, but what did it matter when you were going to die anyway? Die now, or later when this man realized that Sylus wasn’t going to show up, it was the same to you.

Besides. You were tired of counting bricks.

Go down swinging.

“I don’t know,” you hummed, giving him a once-over. “The visual department is a little… lacking.”

The man flushed a shade of red you hadn’t presumed the human body capable of creating. Critical hit.

“What did you just say?” he ground out.

“You heard me. And what’s to say you surpass him in any other department? Everything seems lacking, now that I take a good look at you.”

The red gave way to a purple, and you laughed through your dread.

But you stopped abruptly when a searing pain erupted in your foot, accompanied by a sharp gunshot that left your ears ringing.

The man had his gun raised and pointed at your foot. You could practically see the fumes puffing out of his ears, and you would have continued to laugh from the comical quality of the scene if you hadn’t been in such pain. It was a hot, burning sort. You’d been shot before, but you would never get used to the sensation.

“I changed my mind,” the man snarled. “I want you dead now.”

You closed your eyes. So this was where it all ended. After all you had survived, fought through, you were dying here because you had gotten involved with a stupid crow that wouldn’t even bother coming to save you after you’d gotten kidnapped under his watch.

Fuck you, Sylus.

Tensing your body, you prepared for the gunshot—

—bang

—that never came.

You opened your eyes gingerly. The man’s eyes were wide with excitement as he stared at the door, which you assumed had been forced open judging by the slam that still rang in your ears. The gun he had aimed at your forehead fell limp against his side. Without having to face the door yourself, you knew exactly who was standing there.

“Sorry I’m late, kitten.”

All at once, a myriad of emotions hit you in a tsunami. Relief, anger, maybe even the slightest bit of gratitude. He had come after all. The crow had come for his kitten. And you couldn’t be more glad.

The man, as if coming to his senses, cocked the gun right against your temple.

“Don’t move, or the girl dies,” he said with a trembling voice. It shook from a euphoric sort of glee instead of fear upon seeing the head of Onychinus himself. You’d suspected it since the moment he started talking, but now you were sure that he was insane or had a death wish. Or both.

Sylus said nothing.

“I want Onychinus,” the man continued, his voice breathy and eyes wide. “Give me Onychinus and the N109 Zone, and I’ll—”

“Did he do that?”

Sylus’s voice was dangerously low. You’d never heard it in such a low pitch before, and despite the situation, it sent shivers down your spine. Black-red mist swirled around your shoulder and foot. Normally, you hated when Sylus used his Evol on your body. You claimed it felt as if he was trying to dominate you, which he would shamelessly admit to. But this time, the touch felt cautious, gentle.

The man frowned, obviously insulted that his speech had been interrupted. He opened his mouth to try again, only to be cut off by Sylus for the second time.

“Answer me, sweetheart. Did he do that to you?”

You couldn’t answer. The blood seeping from the gunshot wound in your foot was starting to make your head dizzy, and it was taking maximum effort to not simply pass out. You were clinging desperately to Sylus’s voice. It was the only anchor in the haze of blood loss and hours of captivity.

A few beats of silence passed, the man’s face morphing into a slight confusion, before Sylus sighed.

“Fine, then. Everyone dies.”

You could’ve cried.

The man angrily pressed the gun harder against your head, but black-red mist hurled him against the wall that you faced before he could do anything. He howled, dropping the gun instantly, as Sylus approached him with painstakingly slow steps.

“Hands off,” he growled.

You lifted your head wearily. Sylus’s broad back was covering the man from your line of sight. It was missing the usual coat that hung off of his shoulders, leaving him in only a black shirt and black dress pants. His hair was mussed as if he’d run to get here.

He’d been in a hurry. To get to you.

You really did start crying. Which was a mistake, because it only made you dizzier. Sylus’s head snapped back at the sound of your quiet sobs, his eyes softening when he saw your tears.

“Shh,” he murmured. “Don’t cry. You’ll tire yourself out.”

His gaze swept across your body, taking in the full extent of your injury. You swore the temperature in the room dropped a couple degrees when he took in how much of your blood soaked the floor. When his eyes trailed back up to yours, they flashed with a sort of pain. Does it bother you that I’m hurt? Sylus turned back to the man.

“I was going to kill you slowly,” he snapped. “But I don’t want you breathing the same air as her any longer.”

Within the next minute, the man’s desperate chokes gave out, and the black-red mist holding him disappeared to leave him slumping against the wall.

Sylus turned immediately to you, nimble fingers skillfully undoing the bindings that kept you in the chair. You fell limply against his chest as soon as you were free, and his arms came to wrap instinctively around you. He gently brushed away the tears that fell from your eyes.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Sylus whispered, pressing his nose into your head to take a deep breath. It couldn’t have smelled very good, considering the state of your body at the moment, but he continued to take a couple more deep breaths against it. He glanced down at your bloodied, silently sobbing form. “Fuck. I’m so sorry, kitten. His clues were infuriatingly misguiding.”

His voice was vulnerable in a way you hadn’t heard from him ever before. It made you both sad yet incredibly, stupidly hopeful. Could it be? Sagging in his arms, you wanted to ask. Why did you come? Do you feel the same ache that I do? Is that what led you here?

But you didn’t have the chance before Sylus pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Let’s get you out of here.”

You yelped weakly as Sylus lifted you into his arms. His movements were gentle, but the sudden jostling of your shoulder sent pain shooting up and down your arm. Sylus’s low curses tickled your ears.

“I’d kill him if I hadn’t already,” he muttered, adjusting his grip to cradle you against his chest in a way that wouldn’t disturb your shoulder. “Hold on.” 

He began to stride out of the room. The hallway outside wasn’t very different from the room in terms of lighting, and you wouldn’t have been able to register the fact that Sylus had carried you outside of whatever building you had been in if it hadn’t been for the chilling night air that hit your skin as you emerged. Sylus, feeling the shudder run through you, held you impossibly closer against him.

Your consciousness drifted farther and farther away as Sylus swung one leg over his bike, cradling you in one arm as he gripped the handlebars with the other. The bike revved to life. Sylus took off, speeding down the dirt road that led to the building that was now growing into a speck behind Sylus’s back.

The last thing you saw before you blacked out was said building exploding into a ball of flames.

 


 

When you came to, a comforting softness enveloped you, easing the ache in your joints. You kept your eyes closed for a moment, inhaling Sylus’s scent.

Sylus’s scent?

Limbs flying, eyes popping open, a grabbing hand on your flailing wrist, and you were being pressed down into Sylus’s bed by Sylus himself. His scent tickled your nose. Whether it was from the body above you or the dark bedsheets below you, you couldn’t tell. His breath was ragged as he tried to subdue your confused thrashing, hair disheveled and eyes bloodshot. You felt flames rise to your face as you blinked once, twice, trying to get a hold of the situation.

“Sylus?” you croaked hesitantly. Sylus let out a huff and collapsed back onto the chair that was at your, no—his?—bedside. He ran a hand through his hair. The shirt that hung off of him was the same as the one he’d worn to your rescue. All of his clothes were the same.

“Sweetie,” he drawled, leisurely smirk on his lips. “You can’t scare me like that.”

Sitting up, you realized that your injured arm was in a sling, your shoulder thankfully re-located, and your foot was bandaged up. He must’ve had a doctor see to you while you’d been passed out. You rubbed your temple with your free hand.

“You look like hell,” you said dryly, glancing at him.

“I save your life, and that’s my thank you?” Sylus chuckled. “I’m sorry to inform you, kitten, but even I can’t look miraculously fresh after hours of keeping vigil by a bed.”

Your throat threatened to close up. Hours? Had he been here for hours, just watching you? The thought elated you, but you pushed it to the side for now. You couldn’t jump to conclusions. You chose instead to gaze warily at the cocky man sitting beside you.

“Sylus. Why am I in your bed?”

Sylus leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands as he crossed his legs. You avoided his gaze as he grinned.

“Who else’s bed would you be in, then?” he drawled. “I like to keep my things within my reach.”

His things. God, he had to stop that. Stop incessantly claiming, as if he had any intention to keep you. But soft echoes whispered inside of you. Ones that rang with yearning and possibility. He’d come to rescue you, after all. And here you were, lying in his bed, your wounds tended to and your safety guaranteed simply by his presence at your side.

Hope was a stubborn thing.

“I’m not a toy,” you said quietly. Sylus merely perked an eyebrow.

“Of course not. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re mine.”

Your face heated up. “You can’t just… go around saying things like that.”

Sylus leaned back on the chair, his eyebrows shooting up. You hated it, the way he pulled the innocent card. Even now, his clueless gaze was mockingly faux. It was exactly this that had made you fall so deeply for him. The hit and pull back, the casual flirting and following oblivious front. He knew exactly what he was doing, and you still couldn’t stop the way it made you fall deeper and deeper. Whatever confusion or conflict you felt paled in comparison to the thrill you felt when he brushed a hand against your cheek or called you those nicknames.

“Saying what, kitten?”

Those nicknames.

“You know what.”

“Enlighten me.”

Sylus moved from the chair to your bed, tracing small circles on your ankle on the uninjured leg through the fabric of the sheets. Flinching at the touch, you tried your best to draw back. But Sylus was unrelenting. His hand moved further and further up until it rested on your thigh. You bit back a groan.

“Claiming things,” you said through gritted teeth. “Calling things yours without even meaning it. You have to stop that.”

“I fully intend what I said.”

Sylus’s hand moved up, up, up to your chin, which he turned with a surprising gentleness you didn’t know him to be capable of. Now, gazing into his eyes, you could see the unbridled rage in them. Sylus was angry. There was a barely concealed inferno simmering beneath the surface of the teasing, aloof façade. But there was also something that made your heart ache. A sort of pining that you yourself were very familiar with.

“You’re mine,” Sylus said, his voice a low whisper in his throat. “Mine. Do you hear? And nobody gets away with touching what’s mine.”

You melted at his words, his touch. You couldn’t help it. As much as you tried to convince yourself that Sylus was simply a cruel, possessive man who thought nothing of your dignity, he wasn’t. He’d saved you. And he was infuriated on your behalf.

He wanted you.

“You blew the place up.” A statement, not a question.

“I did.”

“For me?” Your voice was impossibly vulnerable. You were allowing yourself to hope, dare hope, that this strange arrangement you had with Sylus could be more.

“Yes.” Sylus tucked a stray hair behind your ear, leaning in so close your breaths mingled, his hand moving to cup your cheek after tucking away your hair. Your gaze trailed unconsciously down to his lips. They seemed surprisingly soft for such a hardened man. “If I could, I would’ve carved out the hearts of every single one of the bastards there. It was only your condition that stopped me.”

A kiss against the bridge of your nose. “You’re the only one I want, kitten. The only one I would ever go through all of this for. The only one that will ever have the pleasure of waking up from an unfortunate injury in my bed.”

You barely registered the dry attempt at a joke. For how hard your heart was pounding in your chest, your limbs were absolute jelly. Your expression must’ve reflected their state, because Sylus laughed, resting his head gently against your chest.

“Surprised?”

You had to swallow the rising lump in your throat. “Yeah. Yeah, you could say that.”

Sylus kissed the base of your neck, careful to avoid the strap of the sling that rested on it. His lips left fiery imprints wherever they landed. “I think you’ve severely misjudged my restraint if you think you could breathe in my vicinity and not have me immediately wrapped around your finger.”

You laughed, really laughed. It was all almost too good to be true. Here Sylus had been, self-proclaimed to be wrapped around your finger, and you’d been wondering if it was even a possibility that he saw you as something beyond a tool.

“I feel the same way,” you said softly. Sylus looked up, his eyes playful.

“Good. Because I was planning on locking you up if you didn’t.”

There was absolutely no hint of a joke in his voice, and suddenly you were very, very glad that you had developed feelings for Sylus.

His eyes traced over your face, and his tone softened as he spoke. “By the way, kitten. How do you feel?”

You smiled weakly. “Fine, thanks to someone that came just in time to save me.”

“No. I was late. Too late.” Sylus pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be faster next time, I promise.”

“That makes it sound like you’re going to let there be a next time,” you joked weakly, closing your hand over Sylus’s.

Sylus growled. It was a primitive sound, one that you didn’t expect from the sophisticated leader of Onychinus. But damn if it didn’t send a chill down your spine knowing it was for you. “Not in a million years. Or for a million after that.”

“And what about the million after that?”

Sylus captured your lips in a hasty kiss, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that could only be described as hunger. You let yourself go, letting Sylus pull you closer, flush against his chest. He stroked your hair as he poured the universe into the kiss. You could practically taste the starlight that Sylus promised you as his tongue mingled with yours. It was an oath, from him to you, that you were his everything.

And when he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours to show you the raw adoration in his eyes, you didn’t doubt any of it for a second. You laughed, squeezing the hand that still lay on your cheek. Sylus brought your hand up to his lips, kissing the palm lazily.

“For however many millennia you’ll have me, sweetheart.”

Notes:

i'm @ cherryonthesid3 on twitter/x and @ cherryonthesidee on tiktok! follow me to vote on next fic ideas and to share love for lads!

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