Chapter 163: Chapter 163: Onboarding
The double doors of Victor’s private suite swung inward on silent hinges. The sudden hush felt like stepping out of an airport into a cathedral, with thick carpet underfoot, glass walls framing the skyline, and long tables gleaming like still water. Screens blinked to life on the far wall, throwing shifting data across the polished wood. The scent of expensive coffee and steel filled the air.
Elias slowed despite himself. For all his muttering in the car, the scale of the place still hit like a punch; high above the city, it was less an office and more a throne room disguised as a workspace.
Ashwin and Robert peeled off without a word, taking up quiet positions by the door. Connor strolled in last, still smirking, and swung himself onto the arm of one of the leather chairs as though he owned the place.
"You know," Connor said cheerfully, "I’ve been here for years and even I don’t get ushered in like royalty. What’s it like being the rumored mate everyone’s been whispering about?"
Elias set the tablet on the nearest table, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "It’s like being awake at six a.m.," he said dryly. "With homework."
Victor shot Connor a look that was more warning than glare and then moved behind his desk, the burgundy of his suit catching the morning light. His hand brushed Elias’s lower back in a wordless signal to follow.
He obeyed, but his mouth twitched. ’Second time in here,’ he thought, scanning the room. ’Same god, just this is glued to my hip.’ His flair for drama flickered again as he braced for whatever came next.
Elias dropped into the chair opposite Victor’s desk and pulled the tablet back onto his lap, pretending it was a shield. Spreadsheets, project briefs, and diagrams. He forced his eyes to track the lines of text, to make sense of acronyms through the haze of too little sleep. If I just work, he told himself, maybe I can pretend none of them are here.
Connor, of course, refused to let him.
"So," Connor said, spinning one of the conference chairs so he could sit sideways in it, chin in his hand. "What’s it like being dragged out of bed by the boss at dawn? Romantic? Horrifying?"
"Depends," Elias said without looking up. "Are you going to talk the whole time or just until I find a heavy object to throw?"
Connor grinned. "Ah, so you’re a morning person."
"Connor," Victor said, his tone not raised but edged enough to make the other man’s grin slip half a degree. It wasn’t a glare; it was more like a velvet-covered warning.
Connor raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fine. I’ll only watch. Silent admiration."
"Do that," Victor said. He finished signing something on a digital pad, then looked back up at Elias, the glint in his crimson eyes sharpening. "We’ll go over the proposal together, and after hours we start your training."
Elias’s stylus froze over the screen. "Training," he repeated flatly. "Right. You keep saying that word like it’s supposed to reassure me."
Victor leaned back in his chair, burgundy fabric catching the light like a poured liquid. "You survived touching my core. That wasn’t a fluke. We’ll find out what else you can do in a controlled setting. Tonight."
Connor made a sharp, surprised sound. "He did what?!" He sat up straighter, eyes flicking between them as if he’d just stumbled into the middle of a scandal.
Elias didn’t even look up from the tablet. "Touched something I shouldn’t have," he said, his voice deadpan. "Apparently lived to regret it."
Victor’s mouth curved, not quite a smile. "Lived to repeat it," he corrected.
Connor stared at Victor. "You let him into your core? Are you out of your mind?"
Victor’s crimson gaze slid toward him, cool and unreadable. "It wasn’t a matter of letting. He reached for it and it was only natural to hold him there. Quite peaceful."
Connor blinked at him as if Victor had just announced he’d handed a toddler a live grenade. "Peaceful?" he repeated, incredulous. "You’ve locked people out for less than that. What if he’d..."
"Died?" Elias cut in, still scrolling. "Exploded? Turned into cosmic confetti? Trust me, all those thoughts went through my head too." He flicked to the next page on the tablet with exaggerated care. "And yet, here I am. Not even a free coffee out of it."
Connor’s eyes narrowed. "You’re making jokes about this?"
"I’m making jokes because otherwise I’d start screaming," Elias said without looking up. "And Victor doesn’t like screaming in the office."
Victor’s mouth curved a fraction more, his thumb drawing a slow circle on the edge of his desk as if he were tracing a private rhythm. "He’s right. I don’t."
Connor scrubbed a hand over his face. "You two are insane."
Victor leaned back in his chair, burgundy fabric pooling like liquid under the light. "Insane," he echoed mildly. "You could say that. He reached my core, Connor. He saw what even you haven’t. You think I’m going to ignore that?"
Connor let out a low whistle, dropping his hand from his face. "No, but I thought you’d at least lock it in a vault and throw away the key. Not bringing it to work like a take-your-mate-to-school day."
Elias finally looked up from the tablet, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. "I’m sitting right here, you know," he said. "And I have ears. And a migraine."
Victor’s gaze slid to him, the faintest spark of amusement flickering in the crimson. "You also have talent. Which is why you’re here."
"Talent," Elias muttered. "Sure. Let’s call it that. Sounds better than ’reckless impulse control issues.’"
Connor barked a laugh at that, the tension easing a fraction. "Oh, I like him," he said. "Keeps his sarcasm even while playing chicken with a god."
Victor didn’t bother to hide the pride in his voice. "Exactly," he said, leaning forward a little. "That’s why we start the training tonight."
Elias set the stylus down with a quiet click. "You mean after I’ve spent the day buried in your spreadsheets?"
Victor’s mouth curved a fraction more. "After," he agreed. "Consider it your onboarding."