CHAPTER 196: CHAPTER 196: GODLY JEALOUSY

Connor exhaled through his nose. "Don’t answer him." Then, more sharply: "Did she say where she was?"

Marco swallowed. "Some clinic outside the city. Said the doctors were lying to her. Said they were..."

"working for Victor," Uno finished softly, watching Marco like he was a particularly interesting insect. "She always did have a flair for tragedy. Gods and mothers both hate to be replaced."

Marco shoved his chair back slightly, the wheels squealing on the tile. "You’re crazy," he said, voice shaking now. "Both of you."

Connor ignored him. "You kept the recordings?"

Marco nodded weakly. "I didn’t delete anything. They’re encrypted on my drive. I can send you a copy."

"Do that," Connor said. He turned his head slightly, finally glancing toward Uno. "And stop enjoying this."

Uno’s eyes gleamed. "I’m not enjoying it. I’m admiring it. Do you know how rare it is to watch a soul being eaten alive before birth? It’s beautiful in a horrifying way."

Connor’s jaw flexed. "You’re revolting."

"I’m honest," Uno replied lightly, hopping off the desk and brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve. "And you, my dear Mr. Woods, are pretending you don’t want to know how far it’s gone."

Connor didn’t rise to the bait. He turned for the door, his hand on the frame. "Send me the files, Marco. If you’re smart, you’ll take a very long vacation after that."

"Where... where are you going?" Marco stammered.

Connor looked back over his shoulder, eyes cool. "To see what kind of monster she’s raising."

Uno followed, humming something tuneless, too pleased by the chaos he left behind.

As the elevator doors closed around them, Connor said quietly, "You knew about the child before I did."

Uno’s smile turned faintly reverent. "Of course. It’s not every day a god is born hungry."

Connor’s reflection in the mirrored door tightened, his jaw set. "You mean a monster."

Uno’s blue eyes caught the light as the elevator descended. "Same thing," he said softly.

"I’m telling Victor," Connor muttered, watching the floor numbers tick down.

"Why are you such a party pooper?" Uno sighed dramatically, leaning back against the mirrored wall as if the weight of divine exasperation might crush him. "He already knows. He just thinks it’s a better punishment for what she did to Elias than anything he could do himself."

Connor’s head snapped toward him. "Punishment?"

Uno smiled, slow and wicked. "Oh, yes. Think about it: Elias’s sister, father, and mother devoured by their own greed... poetic, really. The family that tried to use him became their own downfall."

Connor stared at him, disgust flaring in his chest. "That’s not justice."

Uno tilted his head. "It’s balance. You humans are very attached to that word when it works in your favor."

"I don’t care about balance. That woman’s carrying something that shouldn’t exist, and you’re sitting here treating it like theater."

Uno’s grin widened, bright and sharp. "But it is theater, Connor Woods. Grand, divine, inevitable theater. Don’t pretend you don’t feel the pull of it, the same curiosity Victor does. You want to see it."

Connor’s fists clenched at his sides. "I want to stop it."

Uno laughed, the sound soft but cutting. "Then you’ll need more than mortal steel and moral outrage. You’ll need me."

The elevator doors slid open with a chime. Connor stepped out first, the marble of the lobby cold beneath his shoes. "You’re not coming and I’m not going, because there is one variable that you didn’t account for."

"Oh, really?" Uno asked with a wide, toothy grin on his handsome face.

"Elias won’t let it happen."

Uno’s grin widened until it looked like sunlight on a blade. "Elias Clarke," he repeated, tasting the name. "The small, sharp thing that keeps a god amused. I like him already."

Connor’s jaw didn’t unclench. "He’s not ’small’ to Victor. He’s... whatever bond he is, enough. Victor won’t let that child touch his mate and Elias won’t want this type of retribution." The words were flat, edged with something hotter than hope.

Uno tipped his head, blue eyes bright with mischief and something almost like approval. "Ah... possessive loyalty. How very alpha of you. Do you always volunteer yourself as a shield, Mr. Woods, or is tonight special?"

Connor didn’t bother to answer the jab. "I’m not a shield. Elias is not someone you can bargain away for spectacle." He stepped back toward the glass doors as if the motion itself would carry the conviction into the night. "I’ll tell him myself and he wouldn’t let someone innocent suffer."

Uno laughed, soft and indulgent, but there was no malice in the sound, only curiosity. "You’re very confident for a mortal with a god in his passenger seat," he said, sliding an easy step after Connor. "Confidence is charming. Courage is entertaining. Recklessness is poetic." He shrugged, as casual as a man commenting on the weather. "All three will make this more fun."

He trailed after Connor through the lobby, steps echoing against marble. Then, almost lazily, he added, "But... all this ordeal makes me jealous."

The warmth in his voice vanished, replaced by something quieter, colder. The kind of tone that made glass tremble just before it shattered.

Connor stopped at the doors, one brow lifting. "Jealous? Of what exactly?"

Uno’s smile stayed in place, but his eyes lost their sparkle. "Of you," he said simply. "Or rather, the way you move for them. Victor breathes, Elias stumbles, and you, mortal, brittle, breakable you, act as if the world has given you a divine mission."

Connor turned, expression unreadable. "That’s called loyalty."

Uno’s head tilted. "Ah, yes. That tedious mortal trick." He stepped closer, hands in his pockets, voice low and steady. "You’ve known me for less than a day, ten hours, perhaps, ignored my proposal of being mine; gods died in less time than that for refusing my will."

"What stops you from disintegrating me? I’m no match for a god, not even Adler, who has been a god for less than a month."

Uno’s lips curved faintly, but his eyes were still cold. "What stops me?" he echoed, his voice lower now, losing the playful cadence. "Nothing stops me, Connor Woods. Not law, not prayer, not your charming stubbornness. If I wanted to break you, you’d already be dust."

He stepped closer, and for a heartbeat the space between them hummed, the marble floor beneath their shoes vibrating with a sound that wasn’t quite audible. His presence pressed in like a storm front, vast and invisible.

"But," Uno continued, his tone softening in a way that was somehow worse, "I don’t want to."

Connor held his ground. "Why?"

Uno’s smile slipped. "Because for the first time in longer than you can measure, someone looks at me and doesn’t beg, doesn’t barter, and doesn’t even flinch. You talk back. You glare. You throw yourself in front of gods for people who aren’t even your blood. It’s..." He exhaled, a sound like the edge of a laugh but hollow. "It’s intoxicating."

Connor’s brow furrowed. "You’re jealous because I’m loyal?"