Awakening Domination System: But I'm a Slave?-Chapter 333: Brandon [2]

Brandon stood at his window, hands braced against the frame, staring out at the demon realm’s twisted landscape.

He wasn’t seeing it.

Instead, he saw fire.

The border fortress, one of Lilith’s smaller outposts was completely engulfed. Demons scattered. Bodies lying in pools of blood that steamed in the cold air. And standing in the center of the devastation, casually wiping essence from his blade was...

Malachai Drakenmoor.

It wasn’t an attack or an invasion. Just a demonstration.

A message delivered in corpses and ash: "I know they’re here. I know you’re protecting them. Hand over the Ancient House survivors, or this is just the beginning."

Brandon’s hands clenched on the window frame hard enough that wood cracked beneath his grip.

Lilith had shown him the memory through viewing crystal. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Made him watch as Malachai slaughtered two dozen demons who’d done nothing except stand between him and what he wanted. Made him see the casual ease, the bored efficiency, the power that had only grown over eighteen years.

Then she’d dismissed the crystal and looked at him with eyes that held something he’d never seen before.

Fear.

Not for herself. For the entire family she’d been sheltering. For Serana, last of House Nightveil. For Brandon and Elara, last of House Crimsonveil. Three primordial bloodlines. Three threats to Malachai’s absolute power.

"He’s announcing he doesn’t fear war," Lilith had said, her voice tight. "He’s telling me, telling everyone, that he’ll burn my realm to ash if I keep harboring Ancient House bloodline. That he’ll kill every demon in this palace to get to your family."

A sound from the corridor made Brandon’s head snap around.

Footsteps. His mother’s footsteps, he knew them by heart, the particular rhythm, the slight hesitation before his door.

She didn’t knock. Just paused outside. Stood there for several heartbeats.

Then walked away.

Brandon’s chest ached.

He’d seen her face today. Seen Elara’s. Both of them moving through the palace like ghosts, their expressions carefully blank, their eyes holding something that looked like grief.

They know. They felt it the moment the attack happened. Mother’s essence sense is too sharp to miss violence at the borders. And Elara, she’s been watching the demons whisper, seeing the fear spread.

And they were trying to be strong. Trying not to burden him with their fear. Trying to pretend everything was fine while their world teetered on the edge of war.

Because of them. Because their bloodlines made them targets. Because Malachai couldn’t tolerate Ancient House survivors existing anywhere, growing stronger, potentially threatening the empire he’d built on their families’ corpses.

He wants all three of us, Brandon thought, his jaw clenching. He wants to absorb our bloodlines completely. Erase the last remnants of the houses that ruled before him.

"Come with me," Lilith had said. "We’ll leave tonight. The council is negotiating with Malachai’s representatives. If you’re gone, if the primary male heir, the strongest potential threat, disappears, it eases pressure. Makes your mother and sister less valuable targets."

Brandon had stared at her. "You’re negotiating? With him?"

"I’m doing what’s necessary to keep your family alive." Her crimson eyes had blazed. "He wants all three of you, Brandon. But you’re the priority. You’re the one with the most potential, the greatest threat if you reach full power. If you’re gone, your mother and sister become... less urgent. Less worth starting a war over."

She’d leaned closer, her voice dropping.

"I can protect them here. Serana and Elara will be guarded every moment."

He’d asked how long. She’d said months. Maybe a year of training.

He hadn’t believed her.

Didn’t know if she was telling truth or lying to make this easier. Didn’t know if negotiations would hold or if Malachai would attack the moment Brandon left, claiming Lilith had violated terms.

Just knew that staying meant putting his mother and sister in more danger.

And leaving meant—

His reflection stared back at him from the dark window glass. Crimson eyes blazing. Jaw clenched. Hands shaking slightly despite his attempts at control.

I have to leave. Tonight.

The decision settled in his chest like stone.

I have to leave Mother and Elara behind. Disappear while they stay visible, vulnerable, targets.

His eyes burned. He pressed the heels of his hands against them, forcing the moisture back.

No. They’re not more vulnerable. They’re safer.

The rationalization fought against the screaming in his head that said he was abandoning them. Leaving them to face Malachai’s wrath while he ran away to train.

He pulled his hands away from his eyes and stared at his reflection again.

"They’ll be safer without me," he whispered. Testing the words. Trying to make them true through repetition.

His reflection offered no comfort. Just stared back with eyes that knew he was lying to himself.

But what if he attacks anyway? What if removing me just makes Mother and Elara easier targets because I’m not there to help protect them?

What if I come back and they’re—

He couldn’t finish the thought. Couldn’t let himself imagine what Malachai would do if he captured them.

No. Lilith promised. Removing me from the realm would buy time for everyone.

I have to trust her. Have to believe this is right.

Because the alternative, staying and watching Malachai burn everything to get to his family, was unthinkable.

But lies were easier than truth right now.

Lies let him move. Let him turn from the window and start pulling clothes from his wardrobe, stuffing them into a pack with mechanical efficiency.

He didn’t plan to go and inform his mother and sister. Didn’t go to even say goodbyes.

Because if he saw his mother’s face, if she asked him not to go, if she told him they should face this together as family.

He’d break. He’d stay. He’d choose them over the plan that might actually keep them alive.

And Malachai would come. Would slaughter his way through demon defenses. Would take all three Ancient House survivors and erase their bloodlines from existence.

So he packed in silence. Moved with purpose that felt hollow. Prepared to leave without farewell because farewells meant weakness he couldn’t afford.

Tomorrow was his birthday. He was supposed to celebrate. Kira had been planning something for weeks, her eyes were bright with excitement whenever she mentioned it.

I’m sorry.

But sorry didn’t change necessity.

He finished packing. Stood in his chamber surrounded by eighteen years of life in this realm. Memories. Safety. Family.

And prepared to walk away from all of it.

To draw Malachai’s primary attention away.

To become strong enough to protect what remained of the Ancient Houses.

Or die trying.

Then he turned around and gone outside.

He moved through empty corridors with pack slung over one shoulder.

The hour when even demons slept, when the palace fell into rare quiet, when he could move without being seen, without being stopped.

He’d almost made it to the main entrance when—

"Brandon?"

He froze.

Turned slowly and saw.

Kira stood in the corridor behind him, wearing sleep clothes, her violet hair disheveled, amber eyes wide and confused.

"I couldn’t sleep," she said quietly. "Came to check on you and saw your door open and..." Her eyes found the pack. "Where are you going?"

His throat closed. "Kira—"

"It’s your birthday tomorrow." Her voice was small. Hurt. "I had everything planned. I thought we’d—" She stopped and drew a deep breath. "Where are you going?"

He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t form words that would make this okay.

She crossed the distance between them in three quick steps. Her hands found his face, forcing him to look at her.

"How long?" she demanded.

"I don’t know. Months. Maybe—"

"Months?" Her voice cracked. "You’re leaving for months and you weren’t going to say goodbye? You were just going to—"

"I’m sorry." The words came out broken. "I’m so sorry. I can’t... if I said goodbye properly, I’d stay. And I can’t stay. I have to go. For them. For Mother and Elara. If I’m here, Malachai will—"

She kissed him.

Hard and desperate. Pouring everything she couldn’t say into contact between their lips. Her hands gripped his shirt, pulled him closer, held on like letting go meant losing him forever.

He kissed back just as desperately. His arms wrapped around her, lifted her slightly off the ground, tried to memorize the feeling because he didn’t know when he will feel it again.

Eventually, they broke apart, both breathing hard.

"Come back," Kira whispered against his lips. "Promise me you’ll come back."

"I promise."

She hugged him then. Buried her face against his chest. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs she was trying desperately to contain.

Brandon held her. Stroked her hair. Whispered apologies that did nothing to ease the pain.

When she finally pulled back, her amber eyes were red but dry. She’d forced the tears back through sheer will.

"Here." Brandon’s hand moved to his neck. To the teardrop pendant that had been there since birth. His father’s gift. His constant companion.

He pulled it off. The chain whispered against his skin, leaving strange emptiness where its weight had always rested.

"Take this." He pressed it into Kira’s hands. "Keep it safe for me. When I come back, you can give it back."

If I come back.

Kira’s fingers closed around the pendant. She stared at it, then at him, her expression breaking.

"You better come back," she whispered fiercely. "You better, Brandon. Because if you don’t," Her voice cracked. "If you don’t, I’ll find you myself. Even if I have to tear apart every realm to do it."

He kissed her forehead. "I’ll. I swear."

Then he stepped away. Before he could change his mind.

"I love you," Kira said to his retreating back.

Brandon paused. Looked over his shoulder. Met her amber eyes one last time.

"I love you too."

Then he turned the corner and she was gone.

Lilith waited at the gates, already in travel form, mature appearance, dressed for journey in practical clothing that still managed to look elegant.

She studied Brandon as he approached. Took in his expression, controlled but barely, grief and determination warring behind crimson eyes.

"Ready?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah." His voice was flat.

She nodded. Didn’t offer false comfort. Just turned and opened a portal, shadows rippling, forming doorway to somewhere distant.

Brandon took one last look at the palace behind him. At the home that had sheltered him for eighteen years. At the windows where his mother and sister slept, unaware he was leaving.

Then he stepped through the portal.

And the demon realm disappeared behind him.

Leaving only darkness.

And the portal closed.