CHAPTER 64: CHAPTER 64: WORSE

"This is the problem with you." Elias said, rising from the couch. "You can wait; you have the leisure of time, but you still chose to press me into giving in." He looked at Victor, his easy stance and the confidence.

Victor didn’t step back.

He watched Elias rise, watched the measured movement, the way the light caught in damp strands of hair still falling into his face, and the way his shoulders squared as if bracing against a storm.

"Elias..." Victor’s voice was low, carrying none of his usual teasing edge. "Things are easier to understand than you think. Being my soulmate isn’t something I take lightly, nor is it something I would ever regret."

He took a single step closer, the faint hum of his ether brushing the air between them like a slow heartbeat.

"After we do it, you wouldn’t just stand at my side; you’d stand as my equal. You’d carry the same power I do, or close to it. You’d live as long as I do." His gaze held Elias’s without wavering, crimson eyes eerily glowing. "We would have enough time to know each other. To learn, to fight, to forgive, whatever you needed. Time wouldn’t run out on us."

Elias’s breath caught, just faintly, and for a heartbeat he didn’t look away. But his hands stayed buried in his pockets, knuckles tight, his shoulders still stiff as though the weight of what Victor offered pressed down too heavily to ignore.

Elias felt the words leave his mouth before he could stop them, quiet and raw.

"That’s... even worse."

He stood there, shoulders tight, the weight of it crashing over him in a way he hadn’t been prepared for. Four days ago he’d been a student with ink-stained fingers and half-finished research papers, a recessive omega with almost no traits to speak of, his future mapped out in careful, predictable lines. And now... this. A god offering eternity like it was something simple, something natural.

His breath hitched, the air in his lungs suddenly too thin, his thoughts a rush of tangled protests and half‑formed fears. He didn’t even know what his life meant anymore, what he meant anymore, with everything shifting so fast it felt like standing on crumbling ground.

Victor moved before Elias could step back, closing the distance with that calm, unshaken presence, and then his arms were around him, a grip that didn’t allow space for retreat.

"You think I don’t understand what I’m asking of you," Victor said softly, his voice low and even against the quiet storm in Elias’s head. His words rumbled through the space between them, steady and certain. "I do."

Elias stayed frozen in that embrace, overwhelmed, feeling the sharp contrast between Victor’s unshakable calm and the chaos clawing inside his own chest.

His voice came out low, strained, almost breaking on the edges of the words.

"But that won’t stop you."

Victor’s breath stirred against his temple, a quiet exhale that carried something heavier than amusement, quieter than anger.

"No," Victor murmured, the single syllable certain, unshaken. His arms tightened slightly. "Because I’ve already decided you’re worth it."

The words sank in like a slow tide, and Elias shut his eyes, not sure if that certainty terrified him more, or if, somewhere deep down, it was exactly what terrified him because part of him wanted to believe it.

His voice was softer when he spoke again, raw around the edges.

"And... what do we do now?"

Victor’s answer came without hesitation, warm and steady, as if he had already decided long before Elias asked.

"Well..." a faint curve touched his lips, something gentler than his usual sharp amusement, "we can start with some dates. And some quiet." His thumb brushed absently along Elias’s jaw, grounding him. "The last few days were anything but."

Elias let out a shaky breath, a sound halfway between a laugh and an exhale, and for the first time since this whirlwind began, the thought of slowing down, just a little, felt like something he could hold on to.

Victor’s hand lingered a moment longer at Elias’s jaw before he let it fall, his gaze sweeping over him with the kind of scrutiny that felt both protective and far too perceptive.

A breath passed. Then, softly, almost matter‑of‑factly:

"Have you eaten?"

Elias blinked, caught off guard by the question, by the ordinary weight of it after everything Victor had just said.

"No," he admitted, a faint crease forming between his brows.

Victor’s crimson eyes narrowed slightly, with that quiet intensity Elias was beginning to recognize. He didn’t scold, just sighed through his nose, a sound low and thoughtful, before stepping back enough to gesture toward the door.

"Come on," Victor said, his voice settling back into that calm authority. "You saw the dining room earlier, didn’t you?"

Elias hesitated, hands still in his pockets. "Ashwin showed me."

"Good," Victor murmured, already moving toward the door with an easy stride that didn’t wait for argument. "Then you know where we’re going."

"Can’t I eat at the desk in my room?"

Victor slowed just enough to glance back over his shoulder, one brow lifting, crimson eyes catching the light with that faint, unreadable gleam.

"You could," he said, voice low and even, "but you won’t."

Elias’s lips curved in a dry half‑smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Why not?"

Victor’s mouth tilted into that dangerous, unhurried kind of smile that always made Elias feel seen and cornered all at once. "Because you are with me now. And I don’t eat in bed or at my desk."

"Because you’re with me now," he said simply, stepping into the corridor. "And I don’t eat in bed or at my desk."

Elias let out a breath, shaking his head. "Then you shouldn’t have let me sleep in your bed," he countered lightly. "I assert dominance by eating snacks in bed."

Victor slowed just enough to glance back at him, one dark brow lifting as that dangerous little smile tugged at his mouth.

"Is that so?" he murmured, voice low with amusement. "You think crumbs and wrappers are enough to challenge me?"

Elias matched his look, deadpan. "Then you had to try knowing me before shoving me into your bed."