10. Betrayal

Elliot, who had always been so attuned to the emotions around him, remained blissfully unaware of the turmoil brewing within Eric.

As their faces hovered close to each other, Elliot’s soft, trusting voice broke the charged silence.

“Is everything okay? Your breathing doesnt sound so good.” he asked, his tone gentle, with the purest concern.

Eric, lost in the whirlpool of his own feelings, snapped back to reality, the warmth of Elliot’s breath on his skin suddenly making him acutely aware of their closeness.

He froze, horrified at his own actions. In a rush of panic, he pushed himself away from the bench, stumbling awkwardly as he fell to the floor.

His skin flushed crimson, and his heart hammered in his chest.

What had he been doing? His thoughts spiraled, and he could feel his embarrassment consuming him. His gaze dropped to the floor as his cheeks burned with shame.

I am in love, Eric thought helplessly.

I’m in love with Elliot.

He pushed himself off the ground quickly, his body still trembling with the intensity of what had just happened.

Without another word, he bolted from the bench, too embarrassed to stay.

His legs carried him swiftly back to the village, to the safety of the house he shared with his brother Aslan.

Once inside, the weight of what had happened pressed heavily on him. He couldn’t escape the truth, and so, he sought out the one person he knew would listen—Aslan.

Eric found Aslan sitting in their shared home, his imposing figure hunched over as he cleaned his sword, his face as unreadable as ever.

The quiet of the room seemed to make the air heavier as Eric approached, his heart racing with every step.

“Aslan,” Eric began, his voice shaky. “I need to tell you something.”

Aslan glanced up, his cold eyes locking with Eric’s. “What is it?”

Eric’s voice faltered for a moment, the weight of his confession sinking in.

“I’m in love with Elliot,” he whispered, barely able to meet his brother’s gaze.

“I’ve been feeling this way for so long. I can’t think of anything else. I don’t know what to do. I don’t think he sees me that way.”

Aslan’s expression remained unchanged.

He had been quiet, distant, ever since the two brothers had shared a bond, and Eric had come to realize just how little he really knew about the emotions that ran through his older brother.

But when Eric had poured his heart out, Aslan’s response was simple, almost too composed.

“I won’t tell him,” Aslan promised, his voice steady, devoid of judgment.

“But I expect you to understand that nothing will come of it.”

Eric nodded, though he wasn’t sure if Aslan truly understood the depth of his feelings.

The older brother’s indifference left him with an unsettling feeling, as if his emotions didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

But Eric respected Aslan, and for now, that was enough.

So why?

WHY?!

Why did he kiss Elliot like that, when he knew my feelings for him?

What was Aslan thinking?

.

.

.

.

Aslan had always viewed Elliot as an exceptional young man, pure in heart and gifted with an otherworldly beauty.

But it wasn’t just Elliot’s charm or the affection the villagers showered on him that moved Aslan—it was his character, his spirit.

Elliot was someone with a depth of compassion and strength that Aslan found both inspiring and alluring.

Over time, Aslan realized the painful truth: he, too, was in love with Elliot.

It had started as an admiration, then morphed into an obsession.

Aslan had spent years fighting the emotions stirring within him.

The thought of giving up his feelings for his younger brother—Eric—seemed like a betrayal of everything he had ever known.

But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Elliot was the perfect fit for the role of queen.

His beauty and grace, his intelligence and compassion, were qualities that would serve a kingdom well.

And Aslan could see the two of them—he, the king, and Elliot, the queen—ruling side by side, their love an unbreakable force.

It had taken him a week of being away from the kingdom, battling on the battlefield, surrounded by blood and death, for him to realize that it was Elliot who had been missing from his thoughts.

The moment he returned to the village, the first face he saw was Elliot’s, and that was when Aslan knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he couldn’t deny his feelings any longer.

So without hesitation, Aslan leaned down, his face inches from Elliot’s, and kissed him. It was a deep, urgent kiss, full of the years of pent-up longing that Aslan had kept hidden.

And when he pulled away, there was no surprise, no shock. Just the overwhelming relief of finally claiming what he had wanted for so long.

Elliot collapsed shortly afterward, fainting from the pressure of the kiss, and Aslan, unmoved by the momentary crisis, felt only satisfaction.

The kiss had solidified everything for him.

He knew now, with certainty, that Elliot was his, and nothing in this world could change that.

But that certainty, that possessiveness, would soon lead to a confrontation that would shake the foundation of everything Aslan had built.

_____