Chapter 47: Temporary Mark 

Elias froze, every nerve still humming, his breath shuddering against Victor's neck. The haze of scent and heat wavered; the room was abruptly too quiet except for the hard rhythm of their mingled breaths.

Victor's jaw flexed, his hands stilling on Elias's body, though he didn't let go. His head turned slightly toward the door, voice edged with something dangerous.

"This had better be important."

"It is," Ashwin said through the wood, the faint tremor in his tone betraying the weight of his message. 

For a heartbeat, Victor didn't move. The crimson glow behind his closed eyes flared faintly, the growl in his throat deepening as if torn between two instincts that would not coexist. Elias felt the shift in him, the moment the God overtook the man.

Victor exhaled sharply against Elias's skin, his grip softening. "Of all the…" He cut himself off, pressing a heated kiss to the curve of Elias's neck, the kind that left Elias trembling. "We're not finished," he murmured, his lips still on his neck, low enough that only Elias could hear.

Victor's lips lingered against Elias's skin, his breath hot, uneven. Elias barely had time to draw in another shaky breath before the alpha's mouth opened against his throat.

A sharp sting bloomed as Victor's teeth grazed the tender skin just above the hollow of his collarbone, not breaking it fully, but enough to leave a deep, unmistakable mark. The pressure sent a shiver tearing through Elias's body, his knees threatening to buckle as heat flared low in his stomach.

Victor's teeth withdrew slowly, lips brushing the reddened skin as though to soothe the sting he'd just left. Elias jerked back, hands pressing against the alpha's chest, eyes wide and bright with something between anger and confusion.

"Victor, you asshole!" His voice cracked, sharp enough to pierce the thick air between them. The words tumbled out ragged, more shaken than he wanted them to sound. His pulse was still racing, but now for a different reason, because the bite, the heat, and the possessive press of teeth had snapped him out of the haze.

He shoved again, not hard enough to truly move Victor, but enough to make space, his chest heaving. "That wasn't part of…" His voice wavered, the heat in his face betraying him. "Gods, what the hell are you doing?"

Victor's crimson eyes lifted slowly, his expression dark, unapologetic. The mark on Elias's neck gleamed faintly in the low light, already darkening.

"What I wanted," Victor said simply, voice low, velvet over steel.

Elias clutched at the front of his own shirt as if that could cover the searing spot, the sting still pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. "I'm not going to trust you again."

Victor's gaze lingered on him, the faint glow still threading beneath his skin, and for a heartbeat the air between them seemed to thrum louder than the distant sounds beyond the door.

"You already do," Victor said quietly, and the calm in his tone was more unnerving than any growl. His thumb brushed once along his lower lip, as though tasting the moment, before letting his hand fall back to his side.

Elias's grip on his shirt tightened, nails digging into the fabric, his pulse pounding hard enough to hurt.

"Just go and leave me to process this light-speed thing happening." 

Victor's jaw flexed, crimson eyes narrowing just enough that the air seemed to tighten around them. For a heartbeat Elias thought he might refuse, might press closer again despite the urgency hammering at the door.

But instead Victor's lips curved in a way that cut straight through Elias's chest.

"You can process all you like," he murmured, voice low and smooth as a blade sliding back into its sheath, "but don't mistake distance for escape."

Elias's breath hitched, his fingers still clutching at his shirt, the sting on his neck throbbing in steady rhythm. He wanted to answer, to throw something back at him, but the words tangled in his throat.

Victor's gaze lingered, heavy and deliberate, sweeping over Elias's flushed face and down to the fresh mark darkening against his skin. His expression softened only a fraction, enough to make Elias's pulse falter.

"You'll still be here when I return," Victor said, quiet but absolute, a statement rather than a question.

Another knock, harder this time, Ashwin's voice taut with urgency: "Victor, now!"

Victor drew in a sharp breath, shoulders straightening as he turned toward the door. At the threshold, he glanced back once more, his silhouette framed by the hall's light, his voice low enough that Elias almost didn't hear it.

"Light‑speed or not," he said, crimson eyes catching the faint glow of the room, "you're already mine."

—

Elias stayed on his feet just long enough to hear Victor's steps fade down the corridor.

Then his legs gave out.

He dropped into the armchair behind him, the cushions sighing under his weight as though the room itself exhaled with him. His chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven pulls, and the sting on his neck pulsed like a second heartbeat, hot and insistent.

He dragged both hands through his hair, fingers tangling, then pressed the heels of his palms over his eyes as if darkness might slow the chaos spiraling through him. He barely knew Victor. A handful of hours strung across a few days, two meetings that had been sharp and distant, two kisses that were anything but.

Two kisses in three days.

No, more than kisses. That thought sent a rush of heat to his face, his pulse leaping all over again. If Ashwin hadn't knocked… if Victor hadn't been pulled away…

Elias swallowed hard, his body still humming with the echo of that divine current, the scent of imperial irises still lingering thick in the air. He let his hands fall into his lap, staring down at his fingers as if they might explain why he hadn't stopped, why he hadn't fought harder.

He barely knew the man. The god. And yet Victor's mouth on his skin, Victor's hands under his shirt, Victor's voice low and rough against his ear, they had carved themselves into him like a brand.

Elias tilted his head back against the chair, eyes closing, breath shuddering out of him. The mark burned at his throat, a constant reminder of the dangerous truth he couldn't deny:

If Ashwin hadn't called, if the door hadn't rattled… he would have let him.

The thought alone made Elias press a hand over his face, muffling the frustrated, breathless laugh that threatened to break free.

"What the hell am I doing…" he whispered into his palm, the quiet room offering no answer, only the lingering scent of Victor and the dull, electric ache of wanting more.