CHAPTER 197: CHAPTER 197: DECISIONS FOR A MAN

Uno gave a small, humorless laugh. "I’m jealous because your loyalty isn’t mine. You’ve given more of yourself to Victor and Elias than anyone has ever dared to give me. And I... don’t like the feeling."

Connor’s jaw tightened, but his voice stayed steady. "Then get used to it. I’m not yours."

Uno tilted his head, and for a moment his face looked young, boyish almost, but the blue of his eyes was the color of deep water, older than anything human. "I know," he said quietly. "That’s what makes me angry."

He straightened, pulling his power back into himself until the air eased. "Adler is nothing new. A baby godling clawing at the edge of eternity. You, though..." He looked Connor over, his smile faint but not cruel. "You’re just a man. And somehow you’ve made me hesitate and you’ve made me jealous in less than ten hours. That should terrify you."

Connor met his gaze without flinching. "Maybe it does," he said. "But it won’t stop me."

Uno studied him for a beat longer, then his grin returned, sharp, deliberate, a mask sliding back into place. "Good," he murmured. "I’d hate for you to stop being interesting."

Connor’s eyes narrowed slightly, his voice calm but edged with challenge. "Then why don’t you just take what you want?"

Uno’s grin flickered. "Excuse me?"

"Why not force it?" Connor pressed, stepping closer. "Why not make me believe I’m in love with you? You’re a god. You’ve done worse to better men, I’m sure."

For a moment the marble lobby felt like a hollowed-out temple, the air heavy with something vast. Uno’s blue eyes stopped being playful and became oceans, deep enough to drown in.

"I could," he said softly. "I could reach into your mind and write myself there. You’d smile at me, you’d kneel, you’d call me yours, and you’d never know the difference."

Connor didn’t look away. "But you haven’t."

Uno gave a small, humorless laugh. It was a sound that might once have belonged to a man, not a god. "Because it would be a lie," he said. "And for all my sins, Connor Woods, I do not drink from poisoned wells. Worship doesn’t taste like worship if I’ve put the words in your mouth. It’s just an echo. And I have had enough echoes to last me forever."

His gaze sharpened, burning now, but it wasn’t cruelty. It was hunger threaded with something frighteningly like longing. "I want you to choose me," he said simply. "Choose me over them. Over him. Without power. Without tricks. Without compulsion. Just you."

Connor’s jaw tightened. "That’s not going to happen."

Uno smiled faintly, but there was no humor in it. "I know. That’s why it hurts."

For a heartbeat the god looked like a boy again, shoulders sloping slightly, power pulled so tight into his skin he almost seemed human. Then the mask slid back over his face, the grin returning like a blade.

"Still," Uno murmured, stepping past him toward the doors, "if I must lose, I prefer to lose to someone interesting."

Connor exhaled, a slow breath through his nose. "I’m not yours," he said quietly. "And I’m not theirs either. Remember that."

Uno glanced back, eyes glinting. "Oh, I will. That’s what makes you worth watching."

And then they walked out into the night together, a god and a man, both aware they were standing at the edge of something neither of them had expected.

—

The next morning the fire had burned down to ash, and the curtains glowed faintly with the first wash of daylight. The suite smelled of smoke and faint iris, the scent of last night’s heat clinging stubbornly to the sheets. Elias stirred first, pushing himself up on one elbow. His body was sore but steady now, his mind already pulling toward the problem he’d been trying not to think about.

Victor was awake, of course. He sat on the edge of the bed, hair falling across his brow as he fastened his cufflinks. He looked like he always did when business crept back in, a god folded into the shape of a man, eyes cool and unreadable.

"You’ve been quiet," Victor said without turning.

Elias sat back against the headboard, drawing the sheet up absently. "So have you."

Victor glanced over his shoulder, one crimson eye catching the light. "Connor sent word last night."

Elias’s heart skipped. "About Anna?"

Victor gave a small nod, finishing his cuff before rising smoothly. "He found her. Or rather, he found the mess she’s made. A clinic outside the city. Leverage, staged footage, and your father’s voice all over the warnings." His mouth curved faintly, not quite a smile. "Typical."

Elias’s fingers tightened around the sheet. "And?"

"And I told him to leave it," Victor said simply. He crossed the room, poured a measure of tea, and handed the cup to Elias without ceremony. "I would rather let your family drown in their own greed than offer them my hand again."

Elias stared at him. "You’re serious."

Victor’s thumb brushed the edge of the cup before withdrawing. "Connor was right. It’s not my family. It’s yours. I could end it in a breath, but I won’t. Not this time. If there’s punishment, or mercy, it should come from you."

The words landed heavier than the tea in Elias’s palms. He looked down at the steam curling up from the cup, then back at Victor, searching his face. "You’re leaving it to me?"

Victor’s crimson gaze softened just a fraction. "I marked you. I chose you. But I won’t take this from you."

For a moment neither spoke. The only sound was the faint clink of porcelain as Elias set the cup down on the bedside table.

He drew a slow breath, chest tightening. "I don’t know if I want mercy," he admitted quietly. "But I don’t want retribution done in my name, either."

Victor stepped closer, bracing one hand on the headboard just above Elias’s shoulder. "Then you decide," he said softly. "And I’ll do what you ask."

The heat of him was there again, but different now, less possession, more promise. Elias met his eyes, pulse unsteady. "That’s a dangerous thing to offer a man like me."

Victor’s mouth curved, dangerous and amused, but there was something like pride in it. "I know. That’s why I offered it."

For a long moment Elias just sat there, hair falling into his eyes, aware of the impossible weight of the choice Victor had laid at his feet. Outside the window the city stirred, oblivious. Inside the suite, everything waited for him to decide.