Chapter 58: Is it true? - [BL]Hunted by the God of Destruction - NovelsTime

[BL]Hunted by the God of Destruction

Chapter 58: Is it true?

Author: Amiba
updatedAt: 2025-08-18

CHAPTER 58: CHAPTER 58: IS IT TRUE?

Elias closed the wardrobe slowly, the soft click of the door sounding louder than it should have in the hush.

He let his palm rest on the smooth wood for a heartbeat longer, collecting himself, before turning back toward the bedroom.

And stopped.

Victor was there.

He stood in the doorway, shoulder resting lightly against the frame, arms crossed over his chest, the faintest curve at his mouth. The dim light behind him threw his features into sharper relief, with dark hair brushing his face, the glow of his eyes softened, and that look, that quiet amusement that didn’t need words to make itself known.

Elias froze mid‑step, something warm and sharp blooming low in his chest. He swallowed, but his voice came out steady despite the sudden rush in his pulse.

"I didn’t hear you come in."

Victor’s gaze swept the room, then drifted back to him, slow and deliberate.

"I didn’t make a sound."

His tone was low, threaded with that dark amusement that carried just enough warmth to soften the edge.

Elias glanced back at the bed, the chair by the window, and the wardrobe still faintly touched by his hand. He could feel the air shift between them, heavier now, threaded with the faint ripple of Victor’s presence, the hum of ether he no longer bothered to restrain completely.

"You’ve been exploring," Victor said finally, his voice quiet but rich, each word unfolding like it was spoken only for him.

Elias met his eyes, lifting his chin just slightly. "You don’t exactly make a habit of telling people this is your room."

Victor’s smile deepened, but only by a fraction, enough to show in his eyes more than his mouth. He pushed off the doorframe, stepping in with that easy, measured pace that always made the air feel smaller.

"And what do you think of it?" he asked, his voice low.

Elias didn’t look away, even as Victor stopped a few steps into the room, the scent of smoke and something warm washing over him with quiet inevitability.

"It’s... very you," Elias said at last, his voice quieter now, a faint smile curving his lips despite everything. "Subtle. Expensive. A little intimidating."

Victor’s low chuckle slid into the space between them, dark and unhurried, and it sent an unwelcome shiver through Elias’s pulse.

"I’ll take that as a compliment," Victor murmured, eyes locking onto Elias with that steady, unblinking focus that made the air feel heavier. "You’re safe here."

Elias tilted his head, studying him, studying the faint ripple of power that still lingered in the room.

"You’re using your ether," he said, brow arching slightly, as if expecting to catch the telltale shimmer of channels rising beneath Victor’s pale skin. "Shouldn’t you be... in danger because of it?"

Victor’s lips curved, slow and wicked, his eyelids lowering just enough to turn his gaze into something sharper, darker.

"Danger?" he echoed, voice smooth as silk over something sharper. "No. It takes a while before the body starts fighting back, before it tries to block my commands."

His smile deepened, deliberate, his tone dropping to something that made Elias’s breath catch.

"Why?" Victor murmured, leaning ever so slightly closer, eyes glinting with quiet amusement. "Are you offering to kiss me again? Because I’m certainly not against it."

Elias’s brow arched, the faint smile sharpening as he crossed his arms loosely over his chest.

"You’re going to need more than a smug line to get another kiss out of me," he said, voice dry, deliberately measured. "Especially since I’m fairly certain you’ll be sleeping on that very expensive couch... or better yet, in another room entirely."

Victor’s chuckle rumbled low in his throat, his gaze sweeping Elias with unhidden amusement.

"You’d exile me from my own bed?" he asked, his tone feigning injury, though the glint in his eyes betrayed him.

Elias let out a soft huff, tilting his head toward the neatly made bed behind him.

"Not an exile," he said, lips quirking. "More like... a temporary relocation. I’m not exactly in the mood to share with someone who terrifies half the city and thinks that’s endearing."

Victor’s smile widened, slow and wolfish.

"Half the city?" he mused, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe, arms folding as if settling in for the banter. "That’s generous. And here I thought you’d tell me to sleep on the floor."

Elias’s gaze flicked briefly to the dark leather couch in the corner, then back to Victor with a pointed look.

"The floor would be too cruel," he said smoothly. "Besides, that couch looks like it costs more than my entire lab. Might as well get some use out of it."

Victor laughed softly at that, the sound rich, genuine, and edged with something far softer than his earlier fury.

"I will have a room ready for you by morning; you can sleep here. I have something to finish before."

Elias glanced back at him, that faint smile still playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Generous," he said lightly, though his eyes narrowed just enough to show he was still reading Victor carefully. "And here I thought you’d insist on staying just to prove a point."

Victor’s lips curved, not in the sharp amusement he so often wore, but in something quieter. "If I stayed, you wouldn’t sleep," he said simply, his voice low and even. "And you need to."

Elias’s hand brushed over the edge of the duvet again, feeling the fine weave beneath his fingertips, before he shifted his gaze back toward him. "You sound like someone who actually worries."

Victor’s crimson eyes softened fractionally, though the glint of darker thoughts still lingered there. "Only about the things I can’t replace," he murmured. Then he straightened, pushing off the doorframe, the movement unhurried but purposeful.

"I’ll have Robert posted outside," Victor added as he stepped back toward the hall. "And if you need anything, anything at all, you press that button again. I don’t care if it’s for water or a war."

Elias watched him move, the lamplight glancing off the sleek black fabric of his coat, every step deliberate, every line of him composed in a way that made the room feel smaller, closer, as though it held things neither of them had yet said aloud.

Something tightened in Elias’s chest. The words hovered there, sharp and insistent, until they broke free before he could think better of them.

"Victor... can I ask you something?"

Victor slowed, pausing mid‑stride, and turned his head over his shoulder. The light caught in his eyes, crimson and steady, unreadable in a way that made Elias’s pulse thrum harder.

"Sure," Victor said softly, voice low and even. "Ask away."

Elias hesitated, feeling the edge of the question like a blade in his throat.

"Matteo said..." He drew in a breath, tasting the bitter echo of those words, then forced them out. "Matteo said Ruo is dead. That you killed her."

His gaze locked on Victor, searching, bracing. "Is it true?"

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