CHAPTER 129: CHAPTER 129: IVORY TOWERS

Jonathan’s footsteps struck sharp against the carpet, back and forth before the polished walnut desk, the weight of each turn rattling the pens in their holders. The lamplight caught on the leather of his chair and on the gold-framed portraits behind him, but he did not sit. He couldn’t. Rage left no room for stillness.

Every time he closed his eyes he saw it again, Victor, upright and whole, crimson ether spilling like fire and glass across his hands. And beside him, Elias. His son. The son who should have been nothing.

Jonathan’s jaw clenched so tightly it ached. ’It should have been Anna.’

Through the open arch to the adjoining library-lounge, the scene was a mirror of calm. His wife reclined into the curve of the sofa, her expression smooth, composed, as if her husband’s pacing were nothing more than background noise. Beside her, Anna rested with a grace Jonathan envied, her hands folded over the swell of her stomach, her voice a low hum as she and her mother murmured strategy under the glitter of the chandelier.

They looked like women arranging a dinner seating, not a future.

Jonathan stopped, bracing both hands on the desk as he leaned over it, staring down at scattered papers without seeing a single word. "It should have been you," he muttered, the words spilling out before he could cage them. His head snapped toward the lounge, eyes burning as they fell on his daughter. "Anna... you were groomed, you were prepared, you were worthy. And instead..." His voice cracked, bitter heat rushing through his chest. "Instead, he took Elias."

Anna lifted her gaze from her mother with the patience of a saint, her brown eyes steady, unruffled. "Victor proved himself today. The ether does not lie. He is what the texts promised." Her hand smoothed across her stomach, slow and deliberate. "And Elias was chosen."

Jonathan recoiled at the word. Chosen. It curdled in his ears like a curse. He began pacing again, sharp turns by the desk, the study’s order unraveling beneath the sound of his restlessness.

"Chosen?" he spat. "No. No, he stumbled into it. That boy has never been loyal, never been prepared. He never carried devotion. You did."

His wife’s voice floated from the library, calm and unhurried. "We still have options, Jonathan. Matteo is dead, but Theobald is controlling his body and ether now." She sighed, mildly annoyed at the thought of Elias again. "Victor may be the god again, but as he killed gods before, we can do the same. We can weaken him by killing Elias."

Jonathan froze mid-step, her words slicing through the room sharper than his fury ever could.

"Kill Elias?" he repeated, voice raw, with the hollow disbelief of a man hearing aloud what he had always thought but never dared speak.

His wife didn’t flinch. She sipped her tea with steady hands, her gaze level. "Yes. Victor tied himself to him. That makes the boy nothing more than a weakness. Gods are never killed with weapons, Jonathan. They are broken through the mortals they chain themselves to. Elias was never meant to rise. He was meant to be removed."

Anna shifted slightly on the sofa, one hand smoothing her stomach, the other tracing the rim of her cup. She was serene, her voice measured. "It makes sense. He was always the mistake. The bond only confirms it, Victor could never choose me because Elias existed first. But if Elias falls..." She glanced at her mother, then back to her father, calm certainty in her eyes. "Then everything resets."

Jonathan braced himself on the desk, fingers digging into the polished wood. The words landed heavy in his chest, echoing the thoughts that had gnawed at him since that morning. "He was mine," he muttered. "Useless, but mine. And now... now he sits in Victor’s manor, draped in his shadow, treated like he matters." His lip curled, contempt twisting his face. "If he is the stone Victor stands on, then we will break the stone."

His wife set her cup down, her composure unbroken, her tone almost gentle. "Well, there is no way he would listen to us or trust us; we need something to lure him out of Victor’s reach."

Jonathan exhaled slowly, the storm inside him coiling tighter into resolve. His gaze flicked from his wife to his daughter, the chandelier’s light gleaming on the shelves behind them like witnesses to their pact.

"Then we should take Elias back," he said at last, his voice steady, almost reverent. "We will correct the mistake."

Anna’s fingers traced idle circles over the swell of her stomach, her tone measured, thoughtful. "He still needs to return to the university for his lab research. That is where he feels indispensable, where Victor’s shadow does not follow as closely. If we motivate his coordinator, his professor to insist on his presence... Elias will obey. He has always bowed to authority in that world, desperate for validation."

His wife’s lips curved faintly, though her tone was cool as glass. "Yes. Appeal to his pride. To his work. A reminder that no matter whose mate he has become, he is still accountable to the ivory towers he worships. He will go back if it feels like his academic reputation is at stake."

Jonathan leaned forward over the desk, eyes alight with the flicker of cruel certainty. "Then we press his professor. Money, threats, whatever is needed. A single summons to the lab, and Elias will step willingly out of Victor’s reach."

Anna’s gaze was steady, unblinking. "And when he does, Theobald will be ready."

Jonathan sat back in his chair, the fire’s glow throwing hard shadows across his face. "Good. Then it is decided. If Elias has made himself Victor’s stone, we will pull him from the foundation with his own pride."

The chandelier above them swayed faintly in the draft, crystals catching light like shards of ice, while in the lounge Anna and her mother resumed their quiet discussion, their voices calm, almost sweet, as if they were only planning a family visit.