CHAPTER 192: CHAPTER 192: SHOULD I REMIND YOU?

Steam clung to the air as Elias stepped out of the shower, water still dripping from his hair, his skin flushed from the heat. He had taken his time beneath the spray, trying to wash away not only the lingering heaviness of his heat but also the intrusive thoughts that had begun gnawing at him since the dinner with Uno. No matter how hard he tried to ground himself, they returned: the casual smile Uno wore while wielding truths like knives, Victor’s silence that said more than words, and the cold weight of knowing without doubt that he was lying beside a god every night.

He’d known it, of course. Victor had told him as much. But knowing something in theory and living inside the shadow of it were different beasts. He dried himself with care, movements precise as though the order of them might steady his racing mind. Shirt, trousers, bare feet against polished floors, rituals to anchor him to something human, something ordinary. Yet the thought still pressed in: Uno had been here. Uno, who wasn’t simply another of Victor’s creatures but something older, stranger. A being who looked at him like he was both curiosity and consequence.

By the time he padded back into the bedroom, hair damp and sticking to his temples, Victor was sitting in one of the armchairs by the fire. He looked maddeningly composed, shirt unbuttoned at the throat, long fingers curled around the armrest, and crimson gaze lifting immediately to Elias as if he had been tracking every second beyond that door.

"You’re thinking too much again," Victor said softly. It wasn’t a question.

Elias pressed the towel once more to his hair, then dropped it aside. His eyes found Victor’s, steady despite the churn in his chest. "Did Uno see us?"

Victor’s head tilted faintly. "See us?"

Elias swallowed. His tone stayed calm, but the words pressed out sharper than he intended. "When we... when we were together. Did he see?"

For a heartbeat there was silence, only the fire popping softly in the grate. Victor’s crimson eyes sharpened, then softened, as though he was deciding whether to laugh or to drag Elias into his lap and silence him with his mouth. Instead, he leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees, gaze never leaving Elias’s.

"No," he said, voice low and certain. "Not unless I wanted him to. And I don’t."

Elias exhaled slowly, tension loosening a fraction in his shoulders, though embarrassment curled hot at his throat. He hadn’t realized until now how much the thought had been eating at him, how unbearable the idea of being reduced to someone else’s amusement, or worse, someone else’s myth, felt.

Victor rose, crossing the room with unhurried steps until he stood before him, taller, broader, every inch of him carved from something unyielding. His hand lifted to the back of Elias’s neck, thumb pressing that familiar circle into damp skin.

"Elias," he murmured, voice velvet roughened with steel. "When I touch you, when I take you, it’s for me. Not for him. Not for anyone else. Just us."

The words should have been arrogant, and they were, but they were also a promise, heavy enough to leave Elias’s breath short. His chest tightened, and he caught himself pressing closer before he could think better of it, drawn by the steady heat and the certainty in Victor’s scent curling low and dark around him.

"...Gods help me," Elias muttered, closing his eyes briefly. "I believe you."

Victor’s mouth curved, dangerous and amused. He bent close enough that his breath warmed Elias’s lips. "Good," he whispered. "Then believe this too, I don’t share what’s mine."

Elias’s pulse stuttered. His hands came up, curling into Victor’s shirt, dragging him closer. His mind was still rolling with questions, still overwhelmed, but at least one had been answered.

And the weight of that answer left him with nothing to do but give in.

He leaned forward before his courage could flicker, mouth finding Victor’s with a quiet urgency. The kiss wasn’t neat, but Victor’s lips curved against his, patient, steady, and answering in a way that steadied the storm instead of feeding it.

A sound slipped out of Elias, half-breath, half-sigh, as Victor’s arm came around his waist, drawing him closer until his damp hair brushed against the hollow of Victor’s throat. The scent of him thickened as if in answer, sinking into Elias’s lungs until it blurred the sharp edges of thought.

Victor didn’t rush. He kissed him slowly and deliberately, like someone reminding him that surrender could be a choice, not a loss. His thumb still circled at the back of Elias’s neck, grounding and coaxing all at once, while his other hand pressed warm and solid at the small of his back.

Elias melted into it with a low exhale, lips parting under Victor’s without thinking. Heat slid down his spine, pooling in his belly, a gentler echo of the ache that had dogged him for days. For the first time since dinner, since Uno’s smile, since the impossible truths, he wasn’t calculating or questioning. He was just here, pressed against Victor, the steady rhythm of his mate’s mouth and hands anchoring him to the moment.

When Victor drew back just enough to breathe, crimson eyes gleamed in the firelight, sharp and unyielding even softened by desire. "Do you..." he murmured, voice rough velvet. "Think I want to share you with anyone else? Did you forget how possessive I am?"

Elias’s throat worked as he swallowed, his lips still tingling from the kiss. His fingers twisted more tightly in Victor’s shirt, not in resistance, but in something far more dangerous... want.

Victor’s mouth curved faintly, dangerously, as he lowered his head, breath brushing hot against Elias’s ear. "Should I remind you?" he whispered, the words vibrating low, each syllable a promise.

Heat coiled in Elias’s stomach, spreading outward until it made his skin feel too tight. He shivered despite the fire’s warmth, breath catching as Victor’s teeth grazed the curve of his jaw.

"You already are," Elias whispered back, surprising even himself with how steady it came out.

Victor stilled for a beat, the air thickening with his scent, then a low chuckle rumbled from his chest, dark and pleased. His lips traced along Elias’s jaw to his mouth again, claiming him with a kiss that was deeper this time, unhurried but demanding, as if to etch the truth into him: you’re mine, and mine alone.

Elias leaned into it without hesitation now, letting his hands slide up over Victor’s chest, over the steady rise and fall of breath beneath fine fabric. His pulse was still racing, his mind still tangled with too many questions, but with Victor’s mouth on his, none of them mattered.

The only answer that did was the one written in the heat between them, and the way Victor kissed him like he was proving it, one breath at a time.