Chapter 79: Chapter 79: Theoretically

Gregoris’s grin widened, the satisfaction in his eyes brightening like a star that had decided to be smug on purpose.

“Run?” he echoed mildly. “You can try. I’ll admire the optimism.”

Rafael made a sound halfway between indignation and despair and buried his face briefly in Gregoris’s shoulder. Ether pulsed lazily around them, warm and indulgent, like even the room was entertained.

Gregoris, because he was a menace and also because he took documentation absurdly seriously, flipped the page with precise dignity.

“Lesson Five,” he intoned calmly, like a general addressing troops. “Do not let the alpha believe victory absolves him of softness. Continued affection is mandatory.”

He paused.

Then he obeyed it with dangerous sincerity.

His grip loosened slightly only to shift into something gentler, hands smoothing along Rafael’s. He pulled out the deflated knot with surprising gentleness for someone of his size and arrogance. Gregoris pressed his lips against Rafael’s hair, lingering there like patience itself.

Rafael went very still, getting used to the missing invader.

Then quietly melted all over again.

“…You are weaponizing tenderness,” he muttered, voice soft and wrecked. “That should be illegal.”

“It is Lesson Five,” Gregoris replied, his voice a deep rumble of satisfaction. “We respect structure.”

He turned another page.

“Lesson Six,” he continued, unhurried, “When overwhelmed, omegas may threaten escape, violence, or litigation. Do not panic. This is emotional static. Provide reassurance and physical stability.”

Rafael’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“I am not emotional static.”

“You are extremely emotional static,” Gregoris murmured, far too comfortable.

To prove the Guide right, because of course he would, he shifted again, carefully, making Rafael even more comfortable against pillows and chest, making sure every inch of him was supported. His voice dropped, softer now, losing humor for something deeper.

“You’re safe,” he said simply. “Only with me. Even when you threaten to flee.”

“I assumed it was just them being bored,” he muttered. “After the shard incident, Gabriel can’t use ether and Damian is watching him like a hawk. Of course he’d create literature to ruin my life. And Alexandra would help.”

Gregoris hummed, the sound low and indulgent, clearly enjoying himself far too much.

“Bored,” he agreed mildly. “Dangerously so.”

His hand stayed where it was, firm and reassuring, thumb moving in slow, thoughtless arcs that said, ’I am not going anywhere’ far more effectively than words ever could. The ether in the room continued its lazy pulse, warm and approving, like it had decided this was acceptable use of power.

“Gabriel,” Gregoris went on, utterly unbothered, “is confined, restless, and forbidden from meddling directly. Alexandra,” he added, with a note of dry resignation, “has never in her life seen a situation and chosen not to interfere.”

Rafael let out a quiet huff of breath that might have been laughter if he wasn’t still half-melted into the pillows.

“So they made a guide,” he muttered. “About alphas. For omegas. And somehow,” he tilted his head just enough to look at Gregoris accusingly, “you are taking it seriously.”

“I take all intelligence reports seriously,” Gregoris replied gravely. “Especially the ones that keep proving accurate.”

Rafael closed his eyes again, exhausted and undone and infuriatingly safe.

“…I hate that you’re right.”

Gregoris smiled against his hair, softer now, less smug, more content.

“You don’t hate it,” he murmured. “You hate that it worked.”

Rafael didn’t dignify that with an answer.

His body had already relaxed, the tension fading under Gregoris’ firm grip.

Gregoris glanced once more at the guide, then set it aside at last, apparently satisfied with his reading.

“Lesson concluded,” he said quietly.

Rafael cracked one eye open. “Which lesson?”

Gregoris pressed a slow kiss to his temple.

“That sometimes,” he said, voice low and certain, “bored imperials accidentally get things exactly right.”

Rafael exhaled, the last of his resistance dissolving.

“…They’re still banned from sending me gifts.”

Gregoris’s smile returned, faint and dangerous.

“I’ll allow them supervised correspondence,” he said.

Rafael snorted softly and finally, fully relaxed.

The ether dimmed.

The guide lay forgotten.

—

Rafael woke up to betrayal.

His consciousness crept back slowly after the last night’s events, only to realize the world had moved on without his consent.

There was motion.

A smooth, powerful hum beneath him. Ether flowing in disciplined channels, expensive and unmistakably high-grade. The faint vibration of a vehicle calibrated so precisely it barely acknowledged physics.

Rafael did not open his eyes.

He tightened his grip on the blanket instead, dragging it higher around himself like a defensive fortification. The fabric was warm and the last thing keeping his sanity together. He refused to let it go.

Absolutely not.

“You’re awake,” Gregoris said calmly from beside him.

Rafael made a noise that might have been a growl if he’d had the energy to commit to it. He shifted just enough to tuck his chin deeper into the blanket, feral and unrepentant.

“I am not,” he muttered. “This is a hostile hallucination.”

Gregoris glanced at him over the tablet propped on his knee.

Impeccable, of course. White shirt crisp enough to be personally insulting, silver-blue cufflinks catching the morning ether-light, dark trousers immaculate. Hair swept back perfectly. He looked like a man who had slept deeply, woken refreshed, and then committed to productivity before sunrise.

Rafael hated him on principle.

“You had to wake up early,” Gregoris corrected mildly, closing the tablet and reaching toward him.

The omega hissed. A sharp, instinctive warning sound from someone whose body was sore, overstimulated, and deeply unhappy about being vertical before his muscles had forgiven last night.

Gregoris paused mid-reach.

Rafael tightened his grip on the blanket and curled in on himself, feral, exhausted, eyes narrowed to slits. His scent was a mess of lingering alpha, sleep, irritation, and raw exhaustion.

“Do not touch me,” Rafael said flatly. “I am operating on spite and three hours of sleep.”

“You slept longer than that,” Gregoris said calmly.

“I was unconscious,” Rafael snapped. “There’s a difference.”

Gregoris studied him for a second, then nodded like this was acceptable data.

“You’re sore,” he observed.

Rafael peeked out just enough to glare. “You don’t get points for noticing.”

“And tired.”

“I will kill you,” Rafael added.

Gregoris hummed, unfazed. “After coffee.”

Rafael made a low, offended noise and sank deeper into the blanket.

They rode in silence for a minute, the ether car gliding smoothly, absurdly quiet for something worth millions. Outside, the city was only half awake.

Finally, Rafael spoke again, his voice muffled by fabric.

“…Why are we moving?”

Gregoris glanced out the window. “Because you asked for it.”

Rafael stilled.

“I did not ask to be abducted at dawn,” he said carefully.

“No,” Gregoris agreed. “You asked to leave. After Delphine’s call. You said you wanted distance and quiet. Somewhere that wasn’t the Capital.”

Rafael blinked, internally screaming.

“…I said that theoretically,” he muttered.

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