CHAPTER 66: CHAPTER 66: THERE IS NO NEED

Victor’s smile tilted further, slow and amused, the faint shimmer of his ether catching the light as he leaned one forearm against the table.

"I don’t need it," he said, voice low, unhurried. "I told you, it’s only an aftereffect. I’ll be fine."

His gaze caught Elias’s, steady, sharp, and far too knowing.

"But," Victor added, the faintest gleam of mischief sliding into his tone, "if you’re offering just because you want to kiss me again... then I won’t stop you."

Elias froze, caught between disbelief and something far more dangerous. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, words failed him.

Then he blinked once, slow, exhaling through his nose as his ears went warm.

"You’re unbelievable," Elias said flatly, and then, with a sharper edge, "Forget I offered."

Victor’s laugh came quiet and low, the kind that curled around the edges of the moment like smoke, rich and infuriating. He leaned back slightly in his chair, crimson eyes still fixed on Elias with that maddening calm.

"As you wish," he murmured, a trace of that dark amusement still threading his voice.

Elias snatched his mug back up, muttering something under his breath that Victor’s sharp ears caught anyway.

Victor let him stew in silence for a heartbeat longer, letting the warm clink of cutlery and the low crackle of the lamps fill the space.

Then, without preamble, he set his cup down again with that same soft, deliberate click that always seemed to cut through whatever Elias was thinking.

"You do remember," Victor said, tone deceptively casual, "that the symposium is at the end of the month."

Elias froze mid‑sip, lowering the mug with a faint furrow in his brow. "The end of the month?"

Victor’s mouth curved, just enough to hint at trouble. "In a few days."

Elias blinked. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

"I rarely kid," Victor said smoothly, leaning back in his chair, his crimson gaze catching him like a hook. "I made sure your name is at the top of the program. Lead researcher. The one whose genius secured that last funding round."

Elias set the mug down harder than intended, a sharp little thud against the polished table. "Victor... You really are out to make me miserable. You knew damn well that Stone sent me with the presentation because it was a fucking joke of a project."

Victor’s brow lifted at the sharpness in Elias’s tone, at the uncharacteristic bite in the words. The corner of his mouth tugged, not offended in the slightest—if anything, entertained. A low chuckle escaped him, quiet and warm, threading through the cool stillness of the breakfast room.

"I think," Victor murmured, leaning back in his chair, "that you’re finally learning how to speak your mind to me."

Elias exhaled through his nose, the sound sharp, his knuckles pressing briefly against his temple before he dropped his hand. He stared down at the gleaming plate, then at the faint steam rising from his untouched tea.

Victor let the silence stretch, unhurried, his crimson gaze lingering on Elias with that infuriating blend of patience and calculation that made Elias feel both cornered and strangely seen.

Elias finally looked up, meeting that gaze with a glare that held no real heat, just a kind of quiet frustration simmering under the surface.

"You’re not even denying it," Elias said, his voice low, almost accusing.

Victor’s lips curved into that slow, knowing smile again, one brow lifting as though daring him to push further.

"Why would I?" Victor’s tone was smooth, almost lazy, but there was a glint in his eyes that betrayed the precision behind every word. "You’re sitting here, aren’t you? Eating my food, drinking my tea, and..." his gaze flicked briefly to the faint flush still clinging to Elias’s ears, "proving every decision I’ve made about you so far was correct."

Elias stared at him, the words striking deeper than he wanted to admit. He wrapped his fingers around the mug again, not out of thirst but to anchor himself, to keep his hands occupied while his thoughts scattered. He took a slow sip, the faint steam brushing his face, buying himself a heartbeat.

"You know," Elias said at last, his voice low but edged with something sharper, "every time I think we can have a normal discussion, think that maybe, just maybe, I can start to warm up to you, you hit me with something like this."

The chair scraped softly against the floor as Elias pushed himself to his feet, the motion sharp, controlled, but betraying the tension that had coiled tight in his shoulders.

Victor didn’t move.

"Sit."

The word cut clean through the air, clipped, calm, but with that undercurrent of power that made the fine hairs on the back of Elias’s neck lift. His tone didn’t rise, didn’t harden, but his crimson eyes caught the light now, gleaming with a dangerous intensity that pinned Elias in place as surely as any hand.

Elias froze, breath shallow, feeling that quiet authority settle over him like a second gravity. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Victor’s voice came again, softer but no less firm.

"You don’t walk away from me in the middle of a conversation, Elias. Not when you’re angry, not when you’re afraid. Sit."

The silence that followed stretched, heavy and close. Elias’s jaw tightened, and he lowered himself back into the chair with deliberate slowness, his eyes narrowing on Victor with a mix of defiance and wariness.

Victor leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table, the faint shimmer of his ether brushing the air between them like a slow tide.

"That’s better," he murmured, the corner of his mouth curving, though there was no triumph in his expression, only that sharp, unsettling calm that always seemed to disarm Elias more than anger ever could.

"Now," Victor continued, his tone steady, "if you want to yell at me, do it from here. I can take it."

Elias stared at him for a heartbeat longer, tension still coiled tight in his shoulders, the air between them thick enough to taste. Then he dragged a hand down his face, fingers pressing briefly against his eyes as though he could scrub away the storm building behind them.

When his hand dropped back to the table, his voice came out low and edged with frost, so sharp and cold it felt like it could freeze the steam rising from his tea.

"There is no need," Elias said, each word deliberate, controlled, and cutting in a way that made even the morning light feel thinner.

Victor didn’t flinch. His crimson gaze stayed on Elias, steady and unblinking, the faint shimmer of his ether tracing like ghost-light along the veins in his hands.

He leaned back just slightly, letting the silence stretch, then let out a breath that might have been a laugh, soft, dark, and devoid of mockery.

"No need," Victor echoed, his tone calm, though there was a shadow in it now, something quiet and barely under control.