[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke

Past....

When angel Xion had been living with Darius, people whispered about him.

Some with curiosity at the audacity of Xion as he ordered His Grace to help him wear his clothes and feed him.

Some with blatant disgust at his uncultured actions.

Shouldn't he be happy that his grace was giving him the time of the day? So, why was he so arrogant as to even ask the Archduke to tie his shoes? That too in the court full of ministers.

Much to their chagrin, the northern lord merely chuckled before kneeling on the cold floor and tying the knots!

It wasn't enough, His Grace even carefully placed Xion on his throne while he himself stood beside him like his attendant!

Such a display of affection had broken many hearts and left others to burn with jealousy.

Among them were Lady Anya Hale and her brother, Caspian Hale.

Anya wanted the so-called 'dirty whore' gone from His Grace's side.

Caspian… wanted that 'whore' for himself.

But when had it ever been so easy to mess with the Archduke?

It should have been impossible. Yet, when Silas — the Crown Prince — launched a sudden attack on the North, their chance arrived.

Darius was forced to lead his armies to the front lines, and with him gone… Xion was left vulnerable.

The plan was simple. Too simple, actually.

All they had to do was tell Xion that Darius was in danger.

And like a foolish angel desperate to help, Xion followed them without a second thought.

To hide their involvement, they called upon Klein Nocturne.

The Nocturne family and the Archduchy had been close for generations, so Klein used his influence — through his aunt Nazia — to divert suspicion.

Soon, everyone important in the North was distracted, focused on the possibility of a secret enemy attack. They didn't have the extra manpower to send in search for Xion.

And so, Xion found himself in the den of Caspian Hale and Klein Nocturne.

For the first time, he didn't find Soren, his nominal older brother, quite so revolting anymore.

Soren had been cruel, yes. He had beaten him, whipped him, broken his wings for the fun of watching them fall apart.

But Soren had never… done what Caspian did.

Caspian's lust-filled touches poisoned the last fragments of trust Xion still had in humanity.

Even as Xion weakened, barely able to stay conscious, Klein Nocturne would come to him night after night.

Xion was glad that it wasn't for his body.

"Your blood is divine, little one," Klein would whisper against his throat, sinking his teeth deeper with every bite. "It tastes like sin. The most delicious sin in the world."

It was a sin. To drink the blood of an angel was to invite damnation.

And Klein embraced damnation gladly. His mind rotted under the craving, while his sanity slipped away.

The more he tasted, the more he wanted.

One such night, fortune twisted in Xion's favor.

When Klein attacked Soren in a fit of madness, Xion used the last of his strength to flee.

Barefoot, he stumbled into the frozen wilderness.

The snow cut his skin with every step. Each footprint blooming crimson against the white.

Snow meant Darius.

Darius meant safety.

If he could just keep walking, he'd find him. Xion muttered it until it became his instinct to look for Darius.

But fate didn't lead him to his safe home.

It led him to a church.

Inside, a man with hair as white as the snow and warm silver-gray eyes greeted him.

Father Michael. That was how he introduced himself to the barely conscious Xion.

Michael's touch was so very gentle, and his smile equally kind.

There were no more beatings. No more blood drained from his veins. No more Caspian hunting him through the night.

In Michael's care, Xion began to recover.

Every time he woke up from nightmares, Michael was there to cradle him.

His wounds healed. His body regained its strength.

And yet… each time Xion asked the way back to the North, Michael only sighed.

"It isn't safe to go there now. Why don't you pray to your mother for peace instead?"

And Xion obeyed.

Day after day, week after week, month after month, he knelt before the altar of his mother.

With his hands clasped and head bowed, he prayed.

Xion believed he had learned enough about humans now.

That he could finally see through them.

That he could finally keep himself safe.

But an angel's core was made to protect mortals. And so, even when the truth dawned on him, he could do nothing.

Father Michael… was not a saint.

Michael was something far worse.

The people worshiped him, believing his miracles were proof of divinity.

But Michael's 'miracles' were horrors cloaked in holy robes.

What kind of saint would drown a child just to time how long they struggled?

What kind of saint would slit a throat just to watch the blood drain away?

When Xion realized what Michael truly was, his mind froze.

He couldn't scream anymore. His legs gave up, and his entire body shut down.

Angel Xion fell silent. Like a beautifully crafted doll, he remained utterly still.

"My little angel," Michael would coo, gathering him close like a cherished treasure. "You are my most wonderful pet, Xion."

He stroked Xion's hair with reverence, his silver eyes alight with a twisted joy.

"I watched everything, pet. I made it happen. All of it. And you—" his smile deepened, "—you surprised me again."

The truth burned like ice in Xion's chest.

The one who had aided Caspian and Klein… the one who had moved pieces in the shadows all along… was Father Michael himself.

"I was just a few minutes late," Michael said lightly, brushing his lips over the forehead of the doll resting on his lap. "If I had bought you first, you would have been mine from the beginning."

He laughed softly, as though sharing a private joke.

"But then again… if I had, you wouldn't be the Xion you are now. Any other human would have broken by now. But you—" he gently scratched the tip of Xion's nose "—are still perfectly beautiful."

Somewhere in Michael's warped mind, he believed he was improving Xion.

He was breaking Xion down into something purer. A pet worth standing beside him.

"As the holy scriptures say," Michael murmured, "one must be broken completely… before they can offer their purest self to their Lord."

And so, in Michael's eyes, Xion was no longer just an angel.

He was his angel. So, he broke Xion until his little pet was now in his most perfect and obedient form.

And Michael… would be his god.