CHAPTER 88: CHAPTER 88: DON’T THINK IT.

Victor’s hand hadn’t moved from where it rested against Elias’s side, his thumb tracing idle, unhurried patterns like he had nowhere else to be.

"Careful," Elias said after a moment, voice light but threaded with dry amusement. "You keep this up, I might start thinking you like me."

Victor’s mouth curved slowly in that devastating smile that gave Elias butterflies despite his better judgment. "Took you long enough."

Elias gave him a look over the rim of his glasses, the kind that could strip varnish. "So this is you being patient?"

"This is me being polite," Victor said, the warmth in his voice at odds with the sharp precision of his gaze. "If I stopped being polite, you’d know."

Elias let the corner of his mouth tilt, but he didn’t give him the satisfaction of an actual smile. "This is your definition of being polite?"

Victor’s eyes gleamed, the faintest flicker of mischief breaking through the composure. "You’re still upright, aren’t you? That’s polite."

Elias huffed, low and almost a laugh, though it carried the sharp edge of disbelief. "If this is polite, I’m terrified to see what you think counts as rude."

Victor’s thumb paused for a fraction of a second, then resumed its slow path against his side, deliberate as a heartbeat. "You’ll live to tell the tale," he said smoothly. "Assuming you don’t decide to test me tomorrow at the symposium."

Elias arched a brow, his voice just this side of mock-innocent. "What possibly could I do to test you?"

Victor hummed slowly, Elias feeling the vibration through the alpha’s chest. "Make me jealous again."

Elias’s mouth curved in something that wasn’t quite a smile. "That sounds more like a you problem."

Victor’s gaze narrowed in that intent, dissecting way that always made Elias feel like he’d just stepped onto a chessboard he didn’t know they were playing. "It becomes your problem," he said, voice low, "the moment I decide to solve it."

Elias tipped his head back just enough to meet those crimson eyes without flinching. "So that’s the threat for tomorrow?"

Victor’s thumb traced one last, lazy arc along his ribs. "That’s the promise."

"Mm," Elias said, drawing the sound out like he was taste-testing it. "Promises from you tend to involve a lot of territorial posturing and an inconvenient lack of escape routes."

"That’s because they work," Victor replied smoothly. "You remember them."

Elias adjusted his glasses with unnecessary precision. "Oh, I remember them. Usually because they come with property damage, an overuse of your ether, and you deciding to rearrange my schedule without consent."

Victor’s mouth curved. "Consent is negotiable when I’m protecting what’s mine."

Elias gave him a flat look. "That’s not how that word works."

"It’s exactly how it works," Victor countered, leaning in just enough for his breath to ghost against Elias’s temple. "At least when it’s you."

Elias exhaled through his nose, half a laugh, half exasperation. "You really think you can charm your way out of sounding like a tyrant?"

Victor’s hand flexed at his side in amusement. "Not trying to. I’m just reminding you I make an excellent one."

Elias finally let the corner of his mouth twitch upward. "Good to know. I’ll be sure to test that theory tomorrow."

"Elias."

"What?" he asked, all faux innocence again.

Victor’s smile sharpened. "Careful. I like it when you test me."

If anything, the arm around Elias’s waist drew him in a fraction closer until there was no space left between them, and the faint, heat-heavy press of Victor’s chest against his back made it obvious that the man had no intention of moving. His nose dipped into Elias’s hair, the inhalation slow, deliberate, almost reverent, like a starving man reacquainting himself with something he’d been denied for far too long.

Elias shifted minutely, the movement more a test than an escape, and found himself caught in the subtle tightening of Victor’s hold. The alpha didn’t just breathe him in; he lingered there, scenting like it was both an indulgence and a warning.

"You’re doing that thing again," Elias muttered, his tone dry but quieter now.

Victor’s voice was equally unhurried, muffled slightly where it brushed against Elias’s temple. "Which thing?"

"The thing where you pretend you’re just sitting here, but really you’re considering how best to dismantle my spine."

Victor’s mouth curved against his hair, and the low hum that followed was too pleased to be innocent. "You survived last time."

"Barely," Elias shot back, though there was no heat in it, only the faint, treacherous awareness of how easily Victor’s presence wrapped around him, how solid the man felt beneath his hands. "And unless I’m mistaken, you’re thinking about continuing whatever that was."

"I am," Victor said simply, the admission so shameless Elias almost choked on it. "You make a convincing argument for repeating myself."

Elias gave him a sidelong look over the rim of his glasses. "And what’s the argument? That I’m breakable?"

"That you’re mine," Victor corrected, the words smooth but weighted, his thumb pressing a slow, possessive arc against Elias’s ribs.

Elias huffed, trying and failing to ignore the flutter that followed. "I liked it better when you were pretending to be polite."

Victor’s reply was low and unhurried, the kind of tone that made the air between them feel heavier. "Polite would mean letting you go."

Elias tilted his head back against Victor’s shoulder with theatrical resignation. "And I should be worried you’re this gentle?"

"Very," Victor murmured, the faintest edge of a smile in his voice as he inhaled him again, as if he could anchor Elias in place by scent alone. "Because when I stop being gentle, you won’t be sitting in my lap; you’ll be under me."

Victor didn’t give him time to answer.

The shift was sudden and fluid, all controlled strength, one moment Elias was draped across his lap, the next Victor had risen in a single, unbroken motion, taking Elias with him. The velvet of the couch nearby caught at the back of Elias’s legs before he had time to process the movement, and then Victor was guiding him down gently.

The cushions dipped under their combined weight as Victor followed, bracing one knee between Elias’s legs, his hands firm at either side. The light from the eastern windows cut across Victor’s face, catching on the crimson in his eyes, the shadow along his jaw, the focus that never wavered.

Elias had the distinct impression of being pinned, not because Victor was forcing him down, but because every line of the man’s body radiated the unspoken truth that he could.

Victor’s head dipped, the warm press of his breath against the curve of Elias’s throat drawing a faint shiver before his teeth grazed over the scent gland there. Not enough to mark, but enough to make Elias’s breath catch, his fingers tightening instinctively in Victor’s shirt.

"That’s the difference," Victor murmured, the vibration of his voice against Elias’s skin sending another shiver through him. "Gentle gives you space to think. This doesn’t."

Elias’s mouth curved, though the sound that left him was more exhale than laugh. "Bold of you to assume I’m thinking at all right now."

Victor’s lips brushed the edge of his gland again, the barest scrape of teeth following, his voice lower still. "Good. Don’t."