CHAPTER 118: CHAPTER 118: WORTHY OF LOVE (2)

Victor held him as if he had all the time in the world, one hand moving slowly up and down Elias’s spine, the other settled firm at his waist. The couch was deep and wide enough to sprawl, but Victor didn’t loosen his hold. Elias’s breathing slowed, his weight settling heavier against him, pride giving way to exhaustion.

The room had gone quiet save for the faint tick of the clock and the hum of the city muffled beyond the tall windows. Victor’s gaze lingered on Elias’s face, the way damp hair clung to his temple, glasses tilted askew where he hadn’t bothered to fix them before sleep dragged him down.

Crimson eyes softened, but only in the privacy of silence. Mine, the bond hummed, steady as a vow.

The door opened with the faintest click. Ashwin entered, posture sharp, voice kept low. "Master." His gaze flicked once, briefly, toward Elias’s sleeping form before snapping back to Victor. "Matteo’s body has moved again. New coordinates were transmitted. He’s circling the industrial quarter, too precise to be aimless."

Victor didn’t shift Elias. His hand only curved higher, brushing faintly over the back of his mate’s neck, as if to soothe away any stirrings of consciousness. Ether stirred at his command, a low, invisible pulse that wrapped Elias in quiet, dulling the edges of sound, making sure the words would never pierce his rest. Elias’s brow, faintly drawn a moment before, smoothed. His breathing deepened again.

Victor’s voice was velvet-dark, pitched for Ashwin alone. "Show me."

Ashwin laid a slim device on the desk, its screen flickering with static before resolving into grainy feed. A red marker pulsed across the map overlay, moving with purpose through the skeletal sprawl of factories.

Victor’s gaze lingered, thoughtful. "Someone wants him seen there. The quarter is full of witnesses. Dissidents thrive on spectacle." He swirled the black ring once on his finger, the gold flashing in the lamplight. "Let them play their game. We’ll answer on our terms."

Ashwin hesitated, measuring his words. "Shall I send a retrieval team?"

Victor’s crimson eyes slid toward him, cold now, devoid of the softness he allowed Elias. "No. Watch. Record. Nothing more."

Ashwin bowed his head once, sharply. "Understood." He gathered the device, silent as a shadow, and slipped back through the door.

The study fell quiet again.

Victor let the ether’s hush linger until he was certain Elias wouldn’t wake, then eased his touch, brushing a thumb against his mate’s jaw. Elias stirred faintly, only enough to shift closer, seeking heat like instinct.

Victor’s mouth curved, slow, reverent. "You are the only one worthy of my love," he murmured against his hair, too soft for anyone but the bond to hear.

And he held him there, unmoving, while the world turned outside their walls.

—

Morning pressed into the study in pale strokes, the kind of light that made the windows haze and turned the dust motes into slow dancers above the shelves. Elias stirred first, lids heavy, lashes dragging against his skin before his eyes cracked open.

It took a disoriented moment to realize he hadn’t moved. He was still on the couch, still tangled in Victor’s arms, still caged in the same steady weight that had carried him into sleep.

Heat. Steadiness. That hum of the bond pulsing at the edge of every breath.

His glasses were tilted crookedly against his face; he pushed them up with a faint, groggy gesture, half-expecting Victor to be asleep. But crimson eyes were already open, watching him with that unblinking calm that made Elias feel both studied and steadied all at once.

"You didn’t move," Elias murmured, his voice hoarse from sleep.

Victor’s thumb traced idly along his spine, as if to prove the point. "Why would I?" His tone was low, roughened by the hour but still smooth as stone under rain. "I had everything I wanted in my arms."

Elias snorted, soft but wry, shifting slightly as if to stretch but not truly pulling away. "You make it sound like I’m some relic you’ve been waiting centuries to cradle."

Victor’s mouth curved, the faintest edge of amusement cutting through the weight of the words. "Not a relic, but I did wait centuries."

That silenced him. The word hung heavy in the air, sharp enough that Elias’s throat tightened before he masked it with a dry scoff. He tilted his head against the alpha’s shoulder, more comfortable than he would ever admit out loud, and let out a breath that wasn’t quite surrender but wasn’t defiance either.

For a long moment neither spoke, the study holding only their shared breath and the slow ticking of the clock.

Elias’s thoughts twisted against the stillness. ’He doesn’t even know how much I’ve fought against this. Against a bond. And yet here I am, waking in his arms like I’ve belonged here all along.’

His hand shifted almost unconsciously, resting against the front of Victor’s shirt. "You’re impossible," he muttered finally.

Victor leaned down, pressing his lips once to Elias’s hair, the motion so brief and reverent that it didn’t fit with the arrogance in his words. "And you still sleep in my arms."

Elias shut his eyes again, because fighting wasn’t worth the breath, not this morning. He stayed where he was, the warmth steady under him, even as the vow he made to himself returned, sharp and stubborn.

’Fine. You can have this. But I’m still burning the damn socks.’

The light climbed higher, soft gold catching on the edges of bookshelves and polished glass. Elias shifted again, the last threads of sleep tugging loose from his body, and his stomach betrayed him with a low, traitorous growl.

He froze.

Victor’s hand was already sliding in a slow arc along his spine, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world to notice every flicker of tension. "Hungry?" he asked, voice rough but amused, as though he’d been waiting for Elias to admit it.

Elias groaned under his breath, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose like that alone could salvage his dignity. "I didn’t have dinner," he admitted, sharp as though confessing a crime.

Victor’s mouth curved, crimson eyes glinting. "I did. You."

"Don’t start," Elias muttered, levering himself onto one elbow, but the protest lacked real bite. His hair was mussed, shirt wrinkled from sleep, and still Victor looked at him like he was a prize worth keeping whole.

The bond hummed low, traitorous, answering before Elias could smother the warmth curling in his chest. He pressed a hand briefly to his stomach, grimacing. "Fine. Yes. Hungry. But if you serve me another parade of basil purée, I’ll starve out of spite."

Victor chuckled, leaning forward just enough to brush his lips against Elias’s temple. "No purée. I’ll feed you properly."

Elias huffed, sliding out of Victor’s arms at last, though not without a glance back. "Good. Because if you think sex counts as a meal, then you really are impossible."

Victor watched him rise, slow and indulgent, the ring on his finger catching the light like a brand Elias had chosen himself. "Then come, impossible omega. Let me prove I can still surprise you at breakfast."

Elias’s stomach growled again in answer, and this time he didn’t bother hiding the flush on his cheeks.