Bound To The Devil

Luca’s POV

Luca felt awful.

His stomach twisted painfully, a deep nausea rolling over him in relentless waves. He had barely managed to stand before another wave of sickness hit, forcing him to clutch the sink and retch violently.

Tears burned his eyes.

Why the hell was this happening?

He had felt off —dizzy, weak, nauseous—but this? This was unbearable. His entire body felt like it was betraying him.

A sharp knock on the bathroom door made him flinch.

“Luca.”

Damien’s voice. Firm, but edged with concern.

Luca wiped his mouth, trying to steady himself. “I’m fine,” he called out, but his voice was weak, hoarse.

The door slammed open.

Damien stood there, eyes dark and narrowed.

“Liar.”

Luca barely had time to react before Damien was at his side, gripping his chin, forcing him to look up. His stormy gaze scanned Luca’s face, taking in his pale skin, the dark circles beneath his eyes, the sweat dampening his forehead.

Damien’s expression shifted.

His usual cold arrogance was gone—replaced by something darker. Something possessive. Protective.

Luca winced as another wave of nausea hit. He tried to pull away, but Damien held him firm.

“You’re burning up,” Damien muttered. His fingers ghosted over Luca’s cheek, his touch rough but careful. “When did this start?”

Luca swallowed. “A few hours ago. I—” His stomach twisted violently, and he barely made it to the toilet before throwing up again.

Damien cursed under his breath.

**
Damien’s POV

Luca was sick.

And Damien did not like that.

The sight of him—so fragile, trembling, in pain—made something ugly stir inside Damien’s chest.

He didn’t just want to protect Luca.

Luca leaned against the sink, breath shaky, looking so damn small in that moment.

Damien’s jaw tightened.

No. Not his Luca.

Without another word, he scooped Luca up into his arms.

“Damien—what the hell—”

“Shut up.”

Luca weakly struggled, but Damien held him effortlessly.

“You’re going to the doctor. Now.”

Luca groaned. “I don’t need—”

Damien’s grip tightened.

“You don’t get to argue. You’re mine, Luca. I take care of what’s mine.”

Luca opened his mouth to protest, but Damien silenced him with a look.

He carried him out without another word.

*

Luca kept struggling.

Damien’s grip only tightened. He had carried him all the way to his car, buckled him in, and was now driving like a madman to his personal doctor.