CHAPTER 228: CHAPTER 228: TROUBLE

The door sealed behind Ashwin with the soft hiss of obedience, leaving behind the hum of ether and the quiet space that always seemed to fold around Victor when he entered a room.

Elias didn’t look up. He had clearly heard the shift in the air; he always did, but his eyes stayed on the hovering data display, a defense mechanism disguised as focus. His voice, when it came, was low and dry. "You’re supposed to be at work."

"I am," Victor said.

"That doesn’t count," Elias replied, his tone sharp but tired, "if you teleport away from the work part."

Victor didn’t bother to argue. The light from the floating screens reflected off his cufflinks as he approached, the rhythm of his steps impossibly even, too measured for any normal man. He stopped just beside the desk, the edge of his shadow brushing across Elias’s papers.

Elias exhaled, a soft, quiet sound that betrayed more than it intended. "You really couldn’t wait, could you?"

Victor’s voice softened, the restraint in it deliberate and dangerous. "No."

Elias finally looked up. The faint blue of the monitors caught in his glasses, hiding his eyes for a moment before he pushed them up the bridge of his nose. His mouth parted slightly, ready for another scolding remark that never made it past his lips.

Victor’s hand reached for him first, fingers tracing the curve of Elias’s jaw before slipping behind his neck. The warmth of the touch made Elias freeze, breath catching somewhere between surprise and surrender.

"Victor," he murmured, but the word came out softer than intended, his tone caught halfway between protest and plea.

Victor’s thumb brushed along his throat, feeling the steady pulse there, the quiet insistence of life that belonged only to one man in the world. "You’re overworked," he said simply, as though it were a fact of physics.

"I’m sitting," Elias countered weakly.

"You’re thinking too much," Victor said, leaning down. His breath was warm against Elias’s skin, carrying the faint trace of smoke and ozone, the scent that lingered whenever he used his power.

Elias didn’t move when Victor’s hand slipped under his chin, guiding his face upward. The world seemed to contract to that single, deliberate motion, every heartbeat echoing louder than the low hum of the ether conduits.

Victor’s lips found his, unhurried, patient in a way that was almost cruel. The kiss was deep from the start, Victor’s tongue sliding against his with an intimacy that made Elias’s breath tremble as he leaned into it, he loved kissing his alpha more than anything, fingers tightening around the edge of the desk as if to anchor himself to something solid. The taste of coffee and exhaustion lingered between them, grounding what might otherwise have been divine.

When Victor finally drew back, the distance was so small it barely existed. His gaze lingered, crimson and calm, but there was a softness there that few ever lived to see.

"You think too loudly when I’m gone," he murmured.

Elias’s laugh came out quiet, a breath more than a sound. "Maybe I’d think less if someone didn’t rearrange my entire nervous system every time he walked into a room."

Victor’s lips curved faintly, a shadow of a smile that could have commanded galaxies but chose instead to stay here, within arm’s reach of a man too sharp for his own safety. "That’s not my fault."

"It’s entirely your fault," Elias muttered, though he didn’t pull away. His pulse was still unsteady under Victor’s fingers.

Victor brushed his thumb across the curve of his jaw, tracing the faint stubble there, the soft warmth of skin that had no defense left to offer. "You were working," he said quietly. "Now you’re not."

"I was trying to ignore you," Elias corrected, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Impossible," Victor said, and before Elias could think of a reply, he kissed him again, deeper this time, deliberate in the way he tilted Elias’s face just enough to fit perfectly against his. The world outside the office might as well have ceased to exist.

When he finally broke the kiss, Elias was breathless, his voice barely above a whisper. "You do realize you can’t keep teleporting out of meetings every time your self-control gives out."

Victor’s answer was immediate, smooth, and utterly unapologetic. "I can, and I will."

Elias stared at him, exasperation flickering like a dying flame that refused to go out. "You’re a menace."

Victor leaned closer until his words brushed against Elias’s mouth. "You’re mine."

Elias finally sighed, tipping his head back slightly, surrendering the smallest fraction of his defiance. "If Ashwin walks in, I’m blaming you."

Victor’s expression didn’t change, though his thumb paused briefly against Elias’s collar. "He knows better."

"Still," Elias murmured, voice quieter now, "you could at least pretend to have restraint."

Victor’s lips brushed his temple, the faintest graze of warmth before he spoke. "I lost that the day I met you."

Elias made a small sound, half laughter and half disbelief, but did not move away. His hand, almost unconsciously, came to rest against Victor’s chest, over the steady rhythm there.

"Next time," he said softly, "try to survive a meeting first."

Victor’s reply was low and immediate, his voice a slow, molten thread of devotion that made the air seem to hum again.

"Next time," he said, "you’re coming with me."

"No chance." Elias said, leaning into the big frame of the man he loved and will marry soon.

Victor’s smug smile deepened, promising retribution in the form of pleasure. He shifted his weight just slightly, still close enough that the air between them carried that faint electric tension that always followed him wherever he went.

"We’ll see," he murmured, his tone unbothered in that infuriatingly confident way only he could manage.

Victor’s hand slid lower, tracing the line of Elias’s spine through the thin fabric of his shirt, slow enough to make the air thicken. "You say that now," he said, his voice soft, his lips brushing the edge of Elias’s hairline, "but you’ll follow me anywhere."

Elias huffed a sound that was half a laugh, half a sigh. "That’s optimism, not logic."

Victor’s mouth curved. "It’s faith."

He felt Elias’s breath falter, that small, telltale pause that came whenever the god’s confidence slipped past his guard. The faint scent of coffee and ozone hung between them, blending into something warm, unsteady, and human.

Elias rested his head against Victor’s shoulder, his words coming out quieter now, tempered by fatigue and fondness. "You really shouldn’t be able to do this to me."

Victor pressed a kiss to the top of his head, his hand splayed at the small of his back. "Do what?"

"Turn chaos into calm," Elias murmured. "It’s not fair."

Victor’s smile softened, losing the edge of arrogance for something warmer. "Then I’ll make it worse."

Elias tilted his head back just enough to meet his eyes. "That sounds like a threat."

"It’s a promise."

Their gazes held, Elias’s sharp, weary defiance against Victor’s quiet, immovable devotion, and for a long moment, neither moved. The faint hum of the ether conduits beneath the floor filled the silence, syncing almost imperceptibly with the rhythm under Victor’s palm.

Finally, Elias sighed and gave in, the fight leaving him the way sunlight fades at dusk. "You’re going to be impossible when we’re married."

Victor’s thumb brushed the curve of his jaw again, reverent, as though memorizing something sacred. "I already am."

Elias smiled, small and unwilling, the kind that meant surrender without saying it aloud. "You’re lucky I love you."

"I’m aware," Victor said, and this time when he leaned in, the kiss was slower, softer, stripped of all divine restraint and arrogance, tasting only of relief.

Outside, the city lights shimmered faintly through the tall glass windows, their glow reflected in the curve of Victor’s eyes as he drew Elias closer, the world narrowing to breath, warmth, and the sound of hearts that refused to stay quiet.

The air stilled, then bent.

It began as a faint distortion at the edge of the room, like light warping through water, followed by a low, resonant hum that didn’t belong to any human-made frequency. Victor felt it first, the delicate vibration rippling across his skin in warning. His thumb paused against Elias’s jaw, and for a fraction of a second, something ancient passed behind his golden eyes.

Elias opened his mouth to ask, but the question never left his lips. The light near the far wall fractured, soundlessly, and then he appeared.

Uno.

Tall, poised, and infuriatingly serene, with hair so pale it caught the glow of the city and threw it back in threads of molten gold. His eyes were that striking, blue with a depth that looked less like color and more like the echo of creation itself. The air around him shimmered faintly, as if reality wasn’t entirely sure it had the right to contain him.

"Trouble," he said simply. His voice was calm, too calm, the kind that made the walls remember who had built them.