Chapter 49: Back to your skies

Ruoxi stared at him, her breath catching, and for a heartbeat the lantern light between them seemed to dim, as though the safehouse itself was holding its breath.

"Your… what?" Her voice broke on the word, disbelief threading through the sharpness of her tone.

Victor didn't flinch. His crimson eyes held hers with unyielding focus, as if the weight of what he had just admitted was too vast to soften. "I've been searching," he said slowly, every word deliberate, "across lifetimes, across bodies, through war and exile. And I never found it. Not once." His fingers curled briefly against his thigh, a subtle tremor running through them. "Until him."

Ruoxi's mouth parted, then closed, dark blue eyes flicking to the faint glow still pulsing under his collar, the signs of strain she knew too well. Her voice was quieter when she spoke again, low and rough. "Victor, do you hear yourself? You've known him for days…"

"I've known the resonance for two centuries," he cut in, voice low but steady, sharp enough to stop her in her tracks. "You think I don't recognize it when it almost rips me apart to be near him?" He exhaled, jaw tight, eyes dropping for a moment as though recalling the feel of Elias's trembling hands on his face. "You think I don't know when the power that's been killing me suddenly settles because of someone?"

The silence that followed was heavy, filled only by the faint creak of the wooden beams above them and the distant hum of night insects outside the safehouse walls.

Ruoxi took another step closer, her shoulders stiffening as if bracing herself. "If Samael finds out," she whispered, each word careful, "he won't stop. You know what he'll do to him."

Victor's gaze lifted again, that dark, private fire burning steady in his eyes. "Well, he gives me a reason to finally deal with him." He exhaled. "The Clarke family is trying to get him back from me; they are using an old friend of his."

"Matteo?" Ruoxi's brows arched, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face.

Victor paused in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the lantern glow, then moved further inside. He let the weight of his coat slide from his shoulders as he stepped into the cozy sitting room, the fire in the corner crackling softly against the hush of night. He lowered himself into one of the armchairs, the old leather creaking under his weight, crimson eyes fixed on her with quiet intensity.

"How did you know?" he asked, his voice even, but there was a glint of surprise beneath the calm.

Ruoxi remained near the threshold for a heartbeat, studying him, then moved closer, perching on the edge of the opposite chair. "He tried for years to date Elias," she said finally, her tone carrying a faint edge of exasperated fondness, the kind reserved for someone you both admire and worry about. "But Elias…" She shook her head, a small huff of disbelief escaping her. "He's a madman when he's buried in his PhD work. Half the time, he forgets to eat, let alone notice someone trying to flirt with him."

Victor's mouth curved faintly, not quite a smile, more a shadow of something darker. He leaned back, one arm draped over the armrest, fingers curling idly against the leather as his gaze drifted past her, somewhere far beyond the safehouse walls.

"So Matteo hovered on the edges," Victor murmured, almost to himself. "And Elias never even looked up."

Ruoxi nodded once, though a crease of concern furrowed her brow. "That stubborn focus saved him more than once. He doesn't see danger until it's already breathing down his neck."

Victor's eyes sharpened at that, the faint pulse of light beneath his skin flaring once. His voice dropped, quiet but firm, as if speaking more to himself than to her.

"Not anymore."

Ruoxi's dark blue eyes flicked to his, reading the weight behind those two words, and for a moment neither of them spoke. The fire crackled, the wind pressed against the windows, and the room seemed to narrow until only the two of them remained, one haunted by the past, the other burning with a vow he would not let go.

"Tell me everything you know about Matteo," Victor said at last, his tone measured, controlled, but his gaze unblinking. "If the Clarke family is moving pieces through him, I want to see the board before they know I've even sat down."

Ruoxi drew in a slow breath, her jaw setting as she measured him across the table. "All right," she said at last, her voice quieter now, but steady. "But you'd better be ready, Victor. Matteo isn't just anyone… and if Elias is tangled in this, the game's already far dirtier than you think."

Victor's eyes darkened, the faint glow beneath his skin pulsing once like a heartbeat of light. A slow, wicked smile curved his mouth, sharp enough to unsettle even her steady composure.

"I've killed gods," he murmured, his voice low and velvet-smooth, each word deliberate and soft as a blade's edge. "Do you really think this is harder than that?"

Ruoxi's shoulders stiffened, her dark blue eyes narrowing. She had no answer ready, not because she believed him incapable, but because of the way he said it, as though it wasn't bravado. As though he were stating a memory.

She studied him carefully. "You're serious," she said finally, her tone flat, but there was a thread of unease weaving through it. "You've… done that. In whatever you are, whatever you've been."

Victor tilted his head slightly, his wicked smile fading into something quieter, heavier. "I don't bluff with things like that." His gaze drifted to the lantern light, as though seeing something far older than the cozy sitting room around them. "There was a war before your grandparents' great-grandparents were even born. And when the last of them fell…" He paused, the faintest trace of a memory shadowing his voice. "I didn't look back."

Ruoxi lowered herself into the chair opposite him, leaning forward slightly, her expression hardening. "Then understand this. Matteo isn't a god, but he's clever. And he has every reason to want Elias, whether it's for Samael or for himself. He knows how to move without being seen. He knows how to make people disappear."

Victor's smile returned, colder now, a glint of something dangerous cutting through it. "I trust Elias more than Matteo," he said quietly, crimson eyes steady. "Elias reached for my help when he needed it, for a stranger rather than the man who's been circling him for years. That tells me everything I need to know."

Ruoxi's brows lifted slightly, surprise flickering through her guarded expression. Then, with a soft, incredulous huff, she leaned back in her chair and let out a low whistle. "That's my boy," she said, half to herself, pride and disbelief tangled in her tone.

Victor's head tilted slightly, the faintest spark of amusement breaking through the tension. "You sound almost proud," he murmured, his voice threaded with something darker, something possessive that hummed just beneath the words.

Ruoxi smirked faintly, though her eyes remained sharp. "I am proud," she admitted, folding her arms across her chest. "He's stubborn, brilliant, and far too careful for his own good. But you… you've managed to get under his skin in record time. That's not easy, Victor."

Her words hung for a heartbeat, the soft crackle of the lantern filling the silence, then her tone shifted, low, cold. "But, Victor," she continued, each syllable deliberate, "hurt him, and I will personally send you back to your skies."