CHAPTER 108: CHAPTER 108: CONFIRMATION

The night air outside was cooler, thinning the wine-heavy warmth of the restaurant into something sharper against Elias’s skin. He adjusted his jacket absently, the fabric familiar, worn just enough at the cuffs to remind him it wasn’t new. Comfortable, practical, his own choice, not one of Victor’s curated acquisitions.

Victor’s hand hovered at his back as they stepped toward the car, not quite touching, but near enough that Elias could feel the quiet tether in the air between them. It was only then that he noticed the shift , heads turning as they passed, not at Victor this time but at him, at the faint, unmistakable mark of scent that clung to his skin like heat in winter.

"Victor."

The voice slid in from the side, refined and polished. A man in an immaculately tailored suit, one of NumenCorp’s partners Elias vaguely recognized from passing headlines, approached with the easy entitlement of someone who had never been told no. His arm was linked with a woman omega dressed to the nines, silk and jewels gleaming under the streetlamps, her expression already sharp with curiosity.

"Leaving so soon?" the man continued, offering Victor a smile that didn’t reach his eyes before turning toward Elias. "And you must be..." He let the pause stretch, as if drawing out suspense. "...the reason our reclusive patron has been less reclusive."

Elias didn’t flinch. He met her gaze evenly, the faintest edge of steel in his tone. "It does. Especially when you’ve had to earn it."

Victor’s crimson eyes slid to the woman then, a look so lazy it was dangerous. "Connor," he drawled, voice silk wrapped around something sharper, "I didn’t know you let your flings talk like this. Or... does she think she’s more than that?"

Connor’s laugh came quick, genuine, and easy, though there was a glint in his eyes that admitted he knew exactly how far Victor’s patience stretched. "You never change," he said, shaking his head, the sound edged with old familiarity. "Always cutting a little too close to the bone."

"Old habits," Victor replied smoothly, lips curving. The warning wasn’t for Connor; it was for the woman whose offended silence spoke louder than anything she might have said.

The omega’s blue eyes narrowed, her jewels catching the lamplight like they might outshine the worn thread of Elias’s cuffs. But Victor’s hand ghosted at Elias’s back, subtle, possessive, and with patience for nonsense thinning.

Elias tilted his head back to look at Victor, the movement small, yet it loosened the line of his collar just enough for the faint bond-mark to catch the light.

The woman’s painted smile faltered, a crack slipping through the polish. Whatever disdain she’d been nursing bled into sharp awareness, her eyes flicking between Victor and Elias as though she’d miscalculated the game entirely.

Connor, to his credit, only laughed, the sound rich and low. "So it’s true," he said, more to Victor than Elias, though his gaze lingered on the mark with something closer to respect than surprise. "That explains the scent. Explains a lot, actually."

Victor’s crimson eyes softened at the edges, though the curve of his mouth stayed sharp. "It explains enough." His hand pressed slightly firmer at Elias’s back, ushering him toward the waiting car without a backward glance.

The woman stepped as if to speak again, but Connor caught her wrist, his voice amused as he leaned in to her ear. "Don’t bother. You’ll only embarrass yourself further."

Connor tilted his head, his green eyes shining in the light. "We should catch up, Victor. Seeing you walking again is a blessing we should celebrate."

Heads were still turning along the street, whispers carrying like the scrape of leaves in wind, because two weeks ago the man before them had been wheeled in and out of boardrooms, pale, a rumor of decline made flesh. Now he stood without cane or brace, poised, unhurried, and with crimson eyes steady as if he’d never been broken at all.

Victor’s smile deepened, the kind that softened nothing. "Blessing," he echoed, tasting the word like it was foreign. "Connor, you make it sound like I should thank providence, rather than my own will." His gaze cut sideways, lingering on Elias with deliberate ease. "Or perhaps you mean my mate."

The omega’s mouth tightened, color flashing in her cheeks, but Connor only laughed again, low and genuine. "Same difference, isn’t it? I’ll drink to either."

Victor inclined his head the barest fraction, accepting without agreeing, before guiding Elias into the waiting car. The faintest pressure of his hand lingered at Elias’s back, and the door shut on the murmurs rising behind them, leaving the street buzzing with questions no one dared voice aloud.

—

The hum of the city dimmed once the car door shut, the glass a clean divide between them and the whispers left curling on the pavement. Victor settled beside him with the same ease he carried in a battlefield, his crimson gaze still edged with the amusement Connor’s words had left behind.

"Blessing," Elias said at last, his voice flat enough to cut. He adjusted his cuff, the worn fabric at odds with the leather seat beneath his arm. "That’s one word for it."

Victor turned, not hiding the smile that flickered. "You have another?"

"Several." Elias leaned his head back, watching the city lights blur past the window. "Most of them are less poetic. None of them repeatable in polite company."

Victor’s laugh was low, indulgent, as though he’d expected nothing less. His hand found Elias’s, not quite lacing fingers, but resting close enough that the heat bridged the space anyway. The car carried them in silence after that, the weight of eyes left behind giving way to the quiet intimacy of being seen only by each other.

By the time they reached the manor, the night had deepened, the gates parting on silent hinges. The house stood waiting, lit from within, a cathedral of glass and stone against the dark. Inside, the air was warmer, scented faintly of cedar and the wine Victor favored, familiar enough now that Elias’s shoulders eased without his notice.

Victor dismissed the driver with a glance and led him through the echoing foyer, pace unhurried, as though the world outside hadn’t shifted its entire gaze toward them.

"Connor will tell them all you walked," Elias murmured, his eyes sweeping the long hall, the marble cool underfoot. "And they’ll want to know how."

Victor’s crimson gaze slid to him, patient, unreadable. "They already know from the symposium; Connor was there to confirm it."

Elias’s mouth curved faintly, humorlessly. "Confirmation is one thing. Explanation is another. You were in a wheelchair two weeks ago. Now you’re walking into dinners and looking like you never touched one."

Victor’s steps didn’t slow as they moved deeper into the manor, his hand brushing Elias’s lower back in that same deliberate, grounding way. "Explanations are for those who ask permission to exist," he said simply. "I don’t."

Elias glanced at him sidelong, catching the glint of quiet amusement threading through the weight of his words. "So you’ll let them speculate that you are a God."

Victor’s mouth curved, as though Elias had handed him the answer he wanted. "Let?" His tone dripped with quiet arrogance. "I intend it."

The echo of their footsteps filled the hall, polished marble throwing back the sound like a whisper. Elias exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. "You’re impossible."

Victor finally looked at him, crimson gaze catching on the edge of Elias’s worn suit, the faint stubborn tilt of his chin. "But I am a God" he corrected softly, and for a moment, it wasn’t clear if he meant to tease or confess.