CHAPTER 65: CHAPTER 65: RELENTLESS

The dining room opened before them with the kind of quiet grandeur that only wealth handled with restraint could create. Morning light spilled in through tall windows, muted by sheer drapes, glinting off pale stone floors and a long table of dark oak polished to a mirror sheen. A centerpiece of fresh-cut lilies sat in a low crystal vase, their faint scent mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries.

Everything was laid out with almost military precision, porcelain plates rimmed in understated gold, fine linen napkins folded with crisp angles, silver cutlery so polished Elias caught his own reflection in the curve of the spoons. At one end, a set of covered dishes waited, steam curling faintly from the vents in their lids.

Victor stepped ahead, pulling out a chair with one hand, the gesture fluid, unhurried, as though this sort of ritual was second nature to him. His damp hair had darkened to near-black against his pale skin, the soft light catching in the faint lines of tension still shadowing his jaw. He nodded toward the chair.

"Sit."

Elias eyed the table, then Victor, one brow arching as he moved closer. "This looks like a peace offering."

Victor’s mouth curved faintly, a shadow of that earlier smile. "Consider it part of our first date," he said lightly, gesturing again. "Indulge me."

Elias slid into the chair, fingers brushing the edge of the linen napkin as he took in the spread: eggs cooked perfectly soft, folded under ribbons of herbs, a basket of breads that looked like they belonged in a magazine, and thin curls of smoked salmon arranged like petals on fine china. Even the coffee pot looked antique, silver chased with patterns that had to be hand-engraved.

"This is ridiculous," Elias said finally, though his tone had softened, curiosity edging out fatigue. "Do you actually eat like this every day?"

Victor took the seat across from him, leaning back slightly, his crimson gaze catching Elias’s with that quiet, unrelenting amusement. "Every day? No." He picked up a glass, swirling the amber tea within, letting the faint light catch on it. "But when I have someone worth sharing a table with... yes."

Elias huffed a laugh through his nose, shaking his head as he reached for a plate. "Smooth, I’m going to give you that."

Victor’s mouth curved, that low, knowing smile deepening just enough to soften the edges of his usual intensity.

"I take my victories where I can," he murmured, setting his glass down with a quiet click against the table’s surface. "Even if they’re small ones... like making you laugh before breakfast."

Elias arched a brow, reaching for the basket of bread and tearing off a piece. The warm crust crackled in his hands, steam curling up into the air.

"Careful," he said, voice dry as he buttered it with deliberate calm. "If you keep saying things like that, people might start thinking you’re actually charming."

Victor’s chuckle was soft, almost to himself, crimson eyes glinting with that dark amusement.

"Let them think what they want," he replied smoothly, leaning forward just enough to rest his elbows lightly on the table. "As long as you keep sitting across from me like this... they can believe anything."

Elias shook his head, biting into the bread, trying, and failing, to hide the flicker of color that rose to his ears. He swallowed, setting the bread down and giving Victor a look that was equal parts exasperated and entertained.

"You’re relentless."

Victor’s smile tilted, a little sharper now, though his tone stayed quiet.

"How do you think I get to become a god?"

Elias paused mid‑reach for his coffee, brow arching, lips parting as if to answer, and then closing again when he caught the faint gleam in Victor’s crimson eyes.

"You mean by annoying people into worship?" Elias shot back finally, tone dry as dust.

Victor chuckled low in his throat, the sound rich and unhurried. He leaned back in his chair, fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass as though he had all the time in the world.

"Persistence, Elias," he said, voice soft but threaded with that quiet power that made the air seem to bend toward him. "And knowing exactly what I want... then refusing to let it go."

Elias huffed a breath, shaking his head, though the corners of his mouth curved despite himself.

"That’s one way to spin obsession," he muttered, picking up his coffee at last.

Victor’s smile deepened, amused and infuriatingly certain.

"Call it whatever you like," he murmured, lifting his glass in a lazy toast, "but it works."

Elias clinked his cup lightly against the edge of Victor’s glass, eyes narrowing in mock warning as he took another sip.

"Just remember," he said, setting the cup down with a soft click, "some of us are stubborn enough to make even gods work for it."

Victor’s laugh this time was quieter, warmer, but his gaze never left Elias’s. "I don’t mind."

Victor’s laugh faded into a low hum, his crimson eyes catching the morning light, and that was when Elias noticed it.

A faint shimmer, just beneath Victor’s skin, crawling in delicate threads along his neck and disappearing under the collar of his black shirt. Like veins of molten glass, soft crimson light pulsed there, fading and flaring in irregular rhythm.

Elias’s breath hitched before he could stop it. He’d seen those channels flare last night, when ether surged like a storm through Victor’s body. But now, in the calm of breakfast, they were shimmering again, visible enough to make Elias set his fork down without thinking.

"Victor..." Elias’s tone lost some of its sharpness, eyes narrowing as he watched the subtle flicker trace Victor’s wrist when he lifted his glass again. "Are you, are you alright?"

Victor didn’t look away. The corner of his mouth tilted up, slowly, as if he’d been waiting for the question.

"You’re worried," he murmured, leaning back slightly, his fingers idly brushing the edge of the table. "How... endearing."

"Victor," Elias pressed, voice quieter now, though irritation threaded through it. "You’re glowing."

Victor’s chuckle was low, shameless. "I’ve been told that before," he said, but at Elias’s glare, the humor softened. His eyes hooded slightly, his voice dropping.

"I used more of my power last night than I planned," Victor admitted, his tone almost casual, though Elias didn’t miss the way his shoulders shifted. "That shimmer? Just the aftereffect. It fades."

Elias’s fingers twitched against his mug, that familiar warning in the back of his mind, ’don’t get drawn in, don’t give him anything he can use.’ But Victor sat there, calm, unshaken, crimson ether rippling faintly against his skin like something alive, and every warning bell Elias had was drowned out by something sharper, something reckless.

"Should you... rest?" Elias asked finally, voice taut with something he didn’t want to name.

Victor tilted his head, the faintest smirk touching his lips. "Are you offering to tuck me in?"

Elias stared at him for a heartbeat, then exhaled sharply through his nose. "You’re insufferable," he muttered, though the tension in his chest didn’t ease. His eyes dropped once more to the shimmer along Victor’s throat.

"Don’t you want me to help like before?"