CHAPTER 100: CHAPTER 100: SYMPOSIUM (2)

"Second half will be worse," Victor said, his tone almost conversational.

Elias shot him a look. "Is that supposed to prepare me or scare me?"

"Neither," Victor said, standing as the signal to reconvene flashed across the room. "It’s so you know I’ll be watching."

By the time they sat back down, the stares had settled over him again, heavier than the air conditioning could cut. Every nod, every sidelong glance carried expectation. The bond was a steady weight in his chest, Victor’s quiet certainty bleeding through it, but it wasn’t enough to keep the knot in his shoulders from tightening.

When the next speaker took the podium, Elias slipped out as unobtrusively as he could. The bathroom wasn’t far, just down a short corridor lined with bland, corporate art, and the moment the door swung shut behind him, the quiet hit like a release.

He braced his hands on the cool porcelain edge of the sink, took a breath, and let it out slowly. No crowd, no watchful eyes, no carefully polite conversations with people calculating the exact value of his existence.

The sound of the door opening behind him made him groan aloud.

"Please tell me you’re just here to wash your hands," Elias said without turning.

Ashwin’s reflection appeared in the mirror, immaculate suit, unreadable expression, every inch the professional shadow he was reputed to be. "Victor asked me to keep an eye on you."

Elias straightened, giving him a flat look over his shoulder. "Of course he did."

Ashwin didn’t blink. "He assumed you might need an exit strategy."

"I needed two minutes without anyone orbiting me," Elias muttered, turning back to the sink. "And somehow, that still wasn’t in the cards."

Ashwin remained exactly where he was, his posture the kind that could block a doorway without seeming to. "If you want, I can run interference. Keep them from cornering you again until the session’s over."

Elias met his eyes in the mirror, one brow arched. "Like a bodyguard?"

"A polite one," Ashwin said evenly.

"Tempting," Elias admitted, reaching for a paper towel. "But if you do that, they’ll know Victor sent you."

Ashwin’s silence was just long enough to confirm it.

Elias tossed the towel aside. "He did, didn’t he?"

"Not exactly," Ashwin replied, which in his tone meant exactly. "But he did say that anyone trying to stand too close to you should be reminded you already have someone for that job."

Elias blinked once, then let out a low, incredulous laugh. "He’s jealous."

"Maybe."

Elias turned toward him fully, crossing his arms. "You’ve known him longer... does he usually get like this?"

Ashwin’s expression didn’t shift. "No. But then again, you are the only compatible mate he’s found in over three hundred years. And by compatible, I mean compatible not only with him but with the other six gods he killed."

Elias stared at him, the casual weight of that statement settling in like a stone dropped into deep water. "I shouldn’t have known that. I could’ve lived very comfortably without knowing this."

He paused, letting the silence stretch while he processed. Then his brows drew together. "So... I have to deal not with one, but seven personalities?"

"It doesn’t work like that," Ashwin said, and there was the faintest flicker of amusement in his voice, barely enough to be noticed, but there all the same.

Elias narrowed his eyes. "You sound way too entertained right now."

"Only because you’re imagining the worst-case scenario," Ashwin replied. "Victor is... still Victor. The rest isn’t something you need to worry about unless he chooses to make it your problem."

Elias gave him a flat look. "Oh, that’s reassuring."

Ashwin’s mouth curved by the smallest fraction, the closest thing to a smile Elias had ever seen on him. "You’ll adapt."

"Or I’ll run," Elias muttered, pushing the door open and stepping back into the corridor.

"I wouldn’t recommend it," Ashwin said as he followed. "Your bond would tell him where you are, and he won’t be happy about you leaving him after consenting to this."

Elias shot him a sidelong glance. "You make it sound like I signed a lifetime contract."

"You did," Ashwin replied without missing a step. "The signature is on your neck."

Elias snorted. "That’s one way to brand ownership."

"It’s not ownership," Ashwin said, tone still maddeningly even. "It’s an anchor. One you agreed to."

"Right," Elias drawled. "Because agreeing in the middle of a heat is exactly the same as reading the fine print."

Ashwin didn’t rise to the bait. "You knew enough to make the choice."

Elias let out a low breath, eyes narrowing slightly. "And now I’m a glorified beacon."

"A beacon he won’t ignore," Ashwin confirmed. "Which, if you’re smart, you’ll remember before you decide to disappear for some ’breathing room.’"

Elias shook his head, muttering under his breath, "Protective, jealous, and borderline obsessive, how charming."

"That combination," Ashwin said, his voice carrying the weight of quiet fact, "is also why no one in that room will dare take you from him."

Elias was about to answer when a voice, familiar enough to make his shoulders tense, slipped in from behind.

"Elias."

He turned, and there stood Matteo, red hair catching the hallway light, blue eyes fixed on him with that unsettling mix of relief and entitlement. No uniform today, just a sharp suit that looked like it was meant to make him blend with the symposium crowd.

Matteo’s gaze flicked briefly over Ashwin without registering him, treating him like one more anonymous face from the symposium. His attention locked on Elias again. "Elias... you’re alive."

Elias’s brow furrowed. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You dropped off the earth for two weeks," Matteo said, leaning in as though they were sharing something urgent. "I thought..." his voice dropped lower, "that whoever was following you at the dorm finally got you."

Elias stared at him, the corners of his mouth curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "Matteo... take your lies elsewhere."

He stepped to go around him.

Matteo moved with him.

He didn’t get close.

Ashwin shifted forward, a single, precise step that placed his shoulder between them and his forearm across the narrow gap like a quiet barricade.

"Don’t," Ashwin said. The word was calm, flat, and absolute.

Matteo blinked, finally seeing him. "Excuse me, we’re having a..."

"You were attempting to block his path," Ashwin replied, tone unchanged. "That conversation is over."

Matteo’s mouth tightened. "Who are you?"

"No one you want to test," Ashwin said, eyes steady. "Step back."

Matteo glanced past him to Elias, trying for wounded. "He’s isolating you. You can’t even talk to me without..."

Ashwin’s palm opened between them, a silent command that halted Matteo’s next half-step like a hand to the chest. "Final warning," he said, voice still even. "Don’t touch him. If you have something to say, you’ll deliver it at a distance—if he wants to hear it."

A muscle jumped in Matteo’s jaw. "You can’t..."

"I can," Ashwin said, not blinking. "And I will."

Elias exhaled, the knot in his shoulders easing by a fraction. "Matteo," he said, voice cool, "I shouldn’t have even stopped. You lied and, Gods, you stalked me, man."