Archive of Our Own ^beta

Death would’ve been mercy, Tharn believed. Instead, the Gods were cruel to him and granted him life, a fate worse than torment itself because that meant he got to spend his life with a wolf in sheep’s clothing, or to be more precise, a snake in human form, a man he once called a friend and big brother , Cholathon—a man who was obsessed with him, who sought him for centuries, and believed Tharn belonged to him despite knowing his beliefs were his and his alone because Tharn belonged only to one man, and that was Phaya; Phaya who Tharn sacrificed his freedom for. 

“How are you feeling?” Chalothon asked softly, smiling slightly as he looked down at Tharn with kind yet deadly eyes. 

A shuddering gasp quickly left Tharn’s lips and tears flooded his eyes. He attempted to get up—he was lying on a bed of silk in a room fit for Thai royalty—but Chalothon’s strong hand gently pushed him back down with a tight frown on his face.

“Why am I still alive?” Tharn questioned, allowing himself to be laid back down. “Where am I? Phaya.” He must've seemed disoriented because his eyes wandered from left to right, his heart raced, and questions seeped into his thoughts, questions he had no answers for.

A nasty fight broke out between Chalothon and Phaya. Tharn had tried to protect Phaya during the altercation, but Chalothon was simply too strong. Tharn remembered the moment when he died because of it—or was supposed to die. Chalothon had used his powers to strike Phaya with force, and Tharn unthinkingly used his body to shield his lover, so the naga’s powers struck him instead and he died. Yes, he died. So why was he still alive? And where was he? What happened?

“You died,” The older man answered without an ounce of emotion. “I brought you back."

Tharn’s eyes doubled and this time he sat up despite the hammering of his heart. “How?” He asked in disbelief. “What… What did you do?”

Chalothon’s jaw twitched, and his eyes formed slits like a snake—he was a snake; however, despite this, he answered with calmness, “We are both nagas. My blood is yours and yours is mine. My powers struck you, so it’s only fitting it would take more to kill you.”

“I want to go back,” Tharn whispered as he recalled Phaya’s face when Chalothon’s powers first struck him—when he fell to the ground before his eyes closed. Phaya was frightened, there was fear in his eyes, unlike anything Tharn had ever noticed before. If Phaya thought he was dead, no— Tharn couldn’t live with himself without reassuring his lover that he was alive and well. He needed to go back! “Take me back, please—I need to see Phaya—I need to tell him—”

“You’re not going back!” Chalothon snapped, this time he truly seemed frightening, the calmness he had earlier completely evaporated. “I already gave you a choice— you chose me. ”

What choice? Chalothon had threatened to slaughter Phaya along with Tharn’s family if Tharn didn’t abandon everyone he loved—everything he knew—and go with the naga prince. Tharn was willingly ready to do so, to be led away by a man who claimed to love him, he would do anything to protect the ones he loved, but Phaya found out and that was what led to the fight. 

Tharn gritted his teeth and snarled, “I didn’t choose you because I wanted to—you made me choose you.”

Tharn ignored the way the older man fisted his palms when he shoved him away and attempted to get up. Despite the dull ache in his whole body, he needed to get far away from this man—this monster whom he had viewed as a brother. He knew he couldn’t escape, and if he could, he knew Chalothon would keep to his word and slaughter Tharn’s whole family. He would stay, he gave his word. He would never choose Chalothon though, he would never love him, and he knew this was what the man wanted, this was what he had been waiting for centuries for—for Tharn’s love. He would never get it, Tharn promised himself this. 

Chalothon snatched him by the wrist quite tight, tugging Tharn close to him. Tharn’s body unknowingly closed in on itself, he felt terribly uncomfortable. “I didn’t say you can go anywhere,” he hissed.

Tharn’s heart was back to racing, threatening to burst from his chest when his eyes met the older man. “So you’re keeping me a prisoner?” He asked. 

“Only until you realize that we can be more,” Chalothon responded.

“What more?” Tharn snapped, this time he was unable to stop his bitter tears from spilling. He didn’t care, he wanted Chalothon to see—to know that this was his fault! If Chalothon loved him, he should let him go. “You took me away from everyone I loved—from Phaya… You can never be him, you know.”

“Stop talking about that garuda!”

“I will never love you— can’t you see that?!”

As fast as a striking viper, Chalothon used his free hand and snatched Tharn by the jaws in a painful squeeze, and bit out, “You will in time… You will love me.”

An unexpected whimper left Tharn’s lips because Chalothon’s words sounded like a promise. He tried to move away from Chalothon’s unkind touch, but the older man refused to relent. Instead, he tightened his grasp, and clawed nails emerged from his fingers, sinking into Tharn’s cheeks until blood spilled, and Chalothon descended toward the younger man’s pained face, their lips only inches apart. A wicked smile crept on the older man’s sinful face, and he demanded, “Kiss me, or else I will bring your precious Phaya and slaughter him in front of you. This is your last warning. Choose wisely.”

Chalothon looked at him with maddening, twisted love in his eyes, yet there lingered this hunger inside—the kind a predator got whenever they captured their prey. For a moment, Tharn stopped breathing. His lungs scorched for air, and his flesh, veins, and temple throbbed in unimaginable ways. At heart, he knew that his lips were made only for Phaya, so for Phaya he would give the older man whatever he desired. 

Tharn closed his eyes because he rather not look. He imagined his lips would meet his lover’s; however, there was no denying the taste of Chalothon's lips on his when they touched. It was like fire and ice, damnation and salvation. The older man tasted like corruption and everything wrong, and when he dipped his tongue into Tharn’s mouth, the younger man's tears shattered, and he wept into the kiss; choked, and sobbed like he was struggling for air, despite this, Chalothon didn't stop kissing him. 

It was then and there, that Tharn knew that from today onward, every day he would wake up with Chalothon, his vile arms wrapping his body like thorns, and while this happened, Phaya’s saddened face would appear in his vision, leaving Tharn to mourn the loss of his lover’s soft touches and gentle smile.

This would be his future.

A life with a man who could never own his heart, yet declared ownership.

A life with a man obsessed with him, yet knew nothing of him. 

"You will be happy here," Chalothon whispered. 

And so, Tharn grieved.