The week passed without any noteworthy events. His father was still away on a business trip, Theo remained bedridden with illness, and Spider had yet to make any contact.
A day after Helios had reached out to Spider, he received a separate message in which Spider informed him that they wouldn't be able to meet until later in the week. An absolute first, since Spider normally always showed up at the agreed times.
Even though time was pressing, Helios wasn't angry about the message. Quite the opposite—it amused him. He could vaguely imagine how busy the guild must have been trying to track down Belladonna's killer, or even just to find a clue as to who it might have been.
Still, the uncertainty gnawed at him. The days dragged on endlessly, and with each passing morning his impatience grew. He absolutely had to meet Spider—but the question of when was driving him nearly insane.
At least work kept him distracted, and after all the stress of the past months, things seemed to be settling back into place. Following his "transformation," he had been a little off for two more days, though he hadn't had any symptoms that really held him back.
Dante had said he still felt warm, but since he felt more than fine himself, it hadn't stopped him from going to work.
His father would be away on his business trip for another two days. So he could still relax a little before his life became difficult again.
He was glad that it was something important that had kept his father from staying home and checking up on him. Helios didn't know exactly what was keeping his father occupied at the moment, but he didn't care. In his absence, his father had left Thomas behind to look after him as usual.
At least Thomas treated him the same as always. Helios didn't feel as if he was under special observation, nor that Thomas scrutinized him more than usual. The old butler simply worried about him and kept asking if he was truly well.
Helios was still a little mistrustful, since Thomas ultimately answered to his father—but Thomas had been the one who had taken care of him after his mother's death.
He had made sure Helios didn't drown completely in his grief, that he ate regularly, that he kept at least some anchor in his daily life. It had been Thomas who had silently held his hand at the funeral—while his father hadn't even been present.
So why did he doubt Thomas' sincerity? In truth, he should trust him more than anyone else. And yet, it was Dante whom Helios trusted most at the moment—the only one to whom he granted even a small glimpse into his inner self.
A soft knock pulled him from his thoughts. Reflexively, Helios reached for his gloves and slipped them on before turning his attention back to the document he was working on.
Dante hurried over to open it. As his personal bodyguard, he was supposed to be with Helios around the clock—just as his contract stated. He wasn't really doing any guard duties at the moment, but he tried to help Helios wherever he could, since Helios lacked an assistant.
It was somehow nice to always have him around. They hadn't had sex since that night, and yet they were closer than ever in other ways. Intimacy didn't always have to be physical; sometimes just knowing someone was breathing beside you was enough to chase away the emptiness.
Over the past few months, Helios had grown far too used to having Dante not only by his side during the day, but also in his bed at night.
Sometimes he wondered how long this fragile balance could last. His father already knew that Dante slept in his bed. Helios had justified it by saying that the camp beds were too small for someone of Dante's size—and that it would be pointless to have another bed brought into the room when the existing one wasn't being used to its full extent anyway.
Of course, that explanation had been flimsy. Thomas, who entered the room every morning to make the bed, couldn't possibly overlook the fact that both sides were being used—and that the blankets and pillows smelled of two people. His father hadn't been satisfied with the answer. But what could he have done about it?
They didn't have sex in the estate, nor were they otherwise physically intimate. Well, not if you didn't count the kisses they shared—at least when no one was watching. When Thomas knocked in the mornings, Dante was already at training and Helios was in the bathroom, showering and getting dressed.
Besides, Helios was fairly certain that no one knew of their relationship, or even suspected it. They were careful.
With a bit of luck, the staff was still too baffled by his little fever trauma. At the very least, he was still being stared at whenever he left his room. He couldn't stand the looks, but it was a small price he was willing to pay for keeping the truth hidden.
With a sigh, Helios set aside his pen and stretched thoroughly. The last document was signed, the pile on his desk finally dealt with. For five days he had done nothing but wade through endless paperwork and take care of the ridiculous assignments his father had accepted in his name. A part of him was almost relieved that his father would soon return. Then he would take over the boring office work again, and Helios could return to focusing on creating new medicines.
He had already completed a few of the requests with an appropriate compound and formula, but for most he had simply used an existing formula as a base. They hadn't been challenges.
Maybe soon he would get something more interesting.
Helios' thoughts drifted as he stacked the papers. Maybe he could dive into everything related to DNA. It was an intriguing field of medicine. He had never looked into it more deeply because he had always been more interested in pharmaceuticals. But now, with his life stretched out so much longer, he would have plenty of chances to acquire new knowledge. Age would no longer hold him back.
A soft clinking pulled him from his thoughts. When he looked up, he saw Thomas and Dante setting the small table where they drank their coffee almost every afternoon. The motion looked so familiar, so ordinary, that Helios couldn't help but smile. He cast a quick glance at the clock, only to realize it really was already 3 p.m.
Helios carefully pushed the stack of papers aside, closed his fountain pen with a quiet click so the ink wouldn't dry out, and suddenly noticed a small container on his desk. Something inside was hopping about restlessly. A smile crept onto his lips as he lifted the container and discovered two lively grasshoppers inside.
Thomas truly thought of everything.
"Thank you, Thomas, this will keep her fed for another week," Helios said as he carefully set the container back down. He would take care of the feeding after coffee.
The old man smiled gently and nodded. "I'm glad. After all, she has been with you for so long now. She's practically like a family member."
Helios chuckled. "Don't let Father hear you say that. He hates spiders."
"Well, they aren't the prettiest of creatures," Thomas replied. "Though such a large spider with hair reminds me more of a small pet. I must admit, I've really grown fond of her."
"She's fascinating," Helios said. He thought of the venom the tarantula produced, and once again couldn't help wondering exactly how it worked and what effects it triggered.
It had also been quite a while since his last meeting with Edward. Perhaps he should try to negotiate a little deal with the government official, so he could test more venoms. For science, of course.
Dante glanced over at the terrarium.
"I've honestly been wondering for a while what the spider's name is."
Helios turned his head toward him, amusement in his eyes. "A name? Dante, it's a spider. Why would it need one?"
"Because she's your pet," Dante replied dryly. "And for quite a long time now, if I remember correctly."
Helios shrugged. "As you know, I'm terrible at giving names. Normally I just label my test animals with letters or numbers. Objective, simple, efficient."
Dante snorted softly and rolled his eyes. "Right. How could I forget that?"
"I call her Dotty," Thomas suddenly interjected.
Surprised, Helios looked at him. "Dotty? Where did that name suddenly come from?" he asked, amused.
The old butler cleared his throat, looking almost embarrassed for a moment as he turned his gaze toward the terrarium. "Well… over the past months, I've often taken care of her. So I named her Dorothy. For short: Dotty."
Helios' expression brightened, and he couldn't help but grin. "Then that shall be her name from now on. Dorothy really suits her." He reached for his coffee cup, leaned back comfortably in the chair, and took a sip. "Tell me, is there anything else urgent to take care of? I've finished the documents and would rather turn my attention now to things of a more liquid or powdery nature."
Thomas' eyebrows rose. "You're already finished? The deadline isn't until next week."
"I prefer to get unpleasant work done right away," Helios replied calmly. "All the assignments are carefully prepared, packaged, and ready for delivery. You can take everything with you now."
For a moment, Thomas sat in silence. Then a look of genuine admiration softened his features, and a small, almost fatherly smile tugged at his lips. "You never cease to surprise me, young master."
Helios didn't answer, only let a faint smile play around his lips as he took another sip of coffee.
He leaned back and let the conversation between Dante and Thomas wash over him like a quiet background melody. They were talking about chess. Since Davis' death, Dante occasionally played a game with the old butler, even though he couldn't really match him in strategy. But that wasn't the point.
Thomas had blossomed a little again in Dante's company. Davis' death had struck him hard; after all, the man had been almost like a son to him. Helios was glad to see the old man laughing and debating again. Warmth filled his heart as he watched Thomas patiently explain moves, point out traps, and offer Dante gentle but firm tips on how to improve his game.
When their time together came to an end, Thomas quietly cleared the dishes from the table.
"Thomas," Helios began thoughtfully, "could you please arrange an appointment with the Cresent family for tomorrow or the day after? I want to visit Violet and assess her condition personally. She has been taking the medication long enough—there should be progress by now. I also need all her doctor's records."
Thomas bowed slightly. "As you wish, young master." A faint smile crossed his face. "That sounds as if the project is nearing completion."
"Almost," Helios said. "I'll check how she's doing and adjust the dosage if necessary. If everything has worked according to plan, she will be able to walk again without any trouble—and that will be one less disease to fear."
Thomas' voice softened. "Your mother would surely be very proud of you."
A heavy lump formed in Helios' throat. His gaze drifted out the window, where the afternoon sun bathed the city in golden tones. "Yes," he murmured quietly, "she probably would."
Thomas fell silent in reverence, before his eyes landed on the neatly stacked documents that almost covered the desk. "I'll return later to collect the assignments and papers."
Helios disliked the thought of making the old man walk unnecessarily. "No need. Take my guards with you—they can carry everything, take their break, and come back. Dante is here to protect me anyway."
"That really isn't necessary…" Thomas began. But Helios cut him off.
"I insist, Thomas. You're not the youngest anymore, and these things are heavy. I don't even want to imagine how many trips you'd have to make to haul all this away. Let those two outside do the running before they collapse from sheer boredom," he said without the slightest hint of regret.
Thomas chuckled.
"Then I shall gladly accept your offer."
With a calm gesture, Thomas reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and drew out a letter. "This letter was delivered for you earlier."
Helios took it. The seal was simple, adorned only with a delicate spider symbol. No other markings, no sender. His heart quickened involuntarily. At last—Spider's message had arrived.
He placed the letter carefully on his desk, then called in the two guards from outside the door and had them carry off the piles of papers and documents he had painstakingly worked through over the past few days. The dull sound of the crates hitting the floor blended with the steady pounding of his heartbeat.
He was eager to know what Spider had written and when they would meet. But he would only read the letter after feeding the spider.
Once Thomas had left the office, he locked the door and returned to the desk, where the small container for the spider awaited him. He grabbed a pair of tweezers, quickly disinfected them with high-proof alcohol, and wiped them down so the residue would evaporate.
He pulled off his gloves. It annoyed him to have to wear them constantly whenever anyone entered his quarters.
Then he went to the terrarium to feed his spider—the gift Spider had once given him. The tarantula had been living with him for several years now. With the tweezers, he picked up a grasshopper, opened the terrarium door, and released it inside. He did the same with the second one. After all, his companion deserved not just food, but also the pleasure of the hunt.
"Have fun, Dorothy," he murmured with amusement.
He closed the terrarium with a careful gesture, checked the temperature and humidity, opened the little ventilation hatch, and leaned forward slightly as he watched. Fascinating how the spider crept forward in silence—barely visible, and yet a deadly huntress.
Suddenly he felt arms wrap around his body, warm and familiar. Dante's chest pressed against his back, and Helios relaxed, leaning almost unconsciously into him. Still, his gaze remained fixed on Dorothy.
"Don't laugh at Thomas for giving her a name," Dante whispered.
"I'm not laughing at him," Helios said honestly, though he couldn't suppress a smile. "Still, it's amusing that both of you always insist on giving every creature a name."
Dante leaned in and kissed him softly on the side of his neck. Helios tilted his head slightly to the side to grant him better access, closing his eyes as a pleasant warmth spread through his body. His hand slid into Dante's brown hair, tangled itself there, pulled him closer.
"Mmh… we shouldn't do anything here," he murmured, though his tone carried little conviction.
Being in love was both a blessing and a curse.
"You locked the door yourself," Dante said. His hand slid higher, brushing gently over the fabric of Helios' shirt, his thumb stroking and teasing his nipple.
A suppressed shiver ran through Helios' body. "That's not what I had in mind," he whispered breathlessly. "I only wanted to make sure no one accidentally stepped on the spi—"
Dante's finger pressed against his lips, cutting him off. "Dorothy," he said with a soft, almost teasing laugh. "No one should accidentally step on Dorothy."
Helios gave a quiet laugh, the sound quickly dissolving into a voiceless sigh as more kisses rained down on his neck. Every touch sent little electric waves through his body, heat rising within him and tingling all the way to his fingertips.
"Do you remember our first trip to Soley?" Dante whispered between two kisses.
"Of course…" Helios' voice was barely more than a breath, caught between breathlessness and the beginning of a smile. "Why do you ask?"
Dante's hand slipped beneath Helios' shirt. It was wonderfully warm against his skin, in contrast to his own. "You made me a promise back then," Dante said, as his hand slowly trailed down over Helios' stomach.
Helios could feel himself growing hard.
He was here in the company that belonged to his father—that one place where he absolutely must not have sex. Even with Davis, he had never done the real naughty stuff here. The most he had ever allowed was the occasional blowjob. Yet it was hard to resist Dante's touch, and somehow it was thrilling to do something so forbidden.
It's not like Father is going to walk through the door at any moment…
"What…?" Helios' voice was hoarse, barely more than a gasp. "What did I promise you?"
The thought of what might happen in the next few minutes blurred his ability to think clearly. He teetered on the edge, torn between surrendering to Dante or pulling away.
Dante grabbed his crotch, gently massaging the bulge straining against his trousers. A shudder ran through Helios at the contact. The week had been nothing but tedium, suffocating under paperwork—this sudden spark of life was dangerously tempting.
Oh… that feels good…
The week had been so dull thanks to the endless paperwork that Helios could really use a little activity.
Dante tilted his head just enough for Helios to meet his reddish-brown eyes, which showed nothing but desire.
"You once told me I could name the immortal test subject," Dante murmured. "You may not be a rat, but you are immortal.
Helios laughed breathlessly while Dante's hand still stroked agonizingly slowly over the fabric of his trousers. "So you want to give me a nickname?" he whispered. "Then do it—and stop tormenting me here already. We could be caught at any time, in case you haven't noticed where we are."
Dante leaned closer, his lips brushing against Helios' mouth. "Lio," he whispered, before capturing his mouth in a kiss. "When we're alone, that's what I'll call you."
Helios turned around—he couldn't take it anymore.
"Fine by me," he said, his voice steadier now, though his grin betrayed his unravelling composure. He tangled his fingers in Dante's hair, pulling him closer. Then he gently pressed him down until Dante was kneeling in front of him. "Then you'd better take responsibility for what you've started."
Dante's answering smile was unlike anything Helios had ever seen—warm, wicked, entirely his. He reached for Helios' trousers, pulled them down, and took into his mouth the part of him that was already hot and impatiently waiting for attention.
Helios let his head sink back against the bookshelf while Dante put into practice exactly what he had learned just a few days ago in the hotel room.
Damn… he learns fast.
For Dante's first time with a man, he was doing remarkably well. Helios resolved never to underestimate him again. He learned alarmingly quickly, and it didn't take long before Helios willingly swung a leg over Dante's shoulder, letting him slide his finger inside.
"Dante…" Helios moaned, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper.
Dante didn't answer. Instead, his touch grew more insistent, his hand and mouth working in perfect rhythm—so seamless that Helios felt every coherent thought slip away. Dante's fingers pressed deeper, patient and steady, coaxing his body to yield, preparing him with a quiet determination that left Helios trembling. A sudden brush against a nerve sent a shock through him so sharp it stole his breath. A ragged sound escaped before he could stop it, and he smothered the noise with his own hand.
It wasn't the first time Helios was grateful that intim hygiene was woven into his daily routine. He might not be someone who thought about sex constantly, yet it seemed he always chose partners who did. Being prepared in every situation had become second nature—an absolute necessity.
And it wasn't as though he didn't enjoy being desired.
Quite the opposite—he loved it.
His knees buckled for a moment, but Dante steadied him easily, keeping him upright, holding him as if he might fall apart without that strength. Helios clung to him, his body shivering with every unbidden sound that slipped past his lips. He tried to muffle the rest, covering his mouth with his palm.
This was reckless, dangerous. Even if the entire floor belonged to him, the guards could return to their posts outside the door at any moment—and he might not even hear them.
Helios risked a glance downward. Dante's expression was utterly absorbed, his features softened, gaze intent—as if nothing existed but this fragile, breathless moment between them. The sight made Helios' heart lurch violently in his chest.
A dangerous heat stirred low in his body, that familiar, numbing pull spreading through him. He knew he couldn't last longer. He couldn't push Dante away—not now, not when he was giving him everything he had.
Then he would simply have to stay quiet. His workload was finished anyway.
A muffled cry broke from his throat as the heat finally overtook him. His body tensed, his fingers tightening in Dante's hair. He trembled, shuddered, surrendering to the release that overtook him, right into Dante's hot mouth. Dante held him through it, steady and unyielding, until the trembling subsided and his climax ebbed away.
Breathless, Helios let his head fall back against the bookshelf, his chest rising and falling in frantic rhythm. Dante straightened, his own breathing heavy, lips glistening, eyes alight with something fierce and unspoken. Helios met that look with only a weary nod.
"Control yourself," he whispered hoarsely, his voice raw.
"I will," Dante promised—though the hunger in his tone made the words sound like anything but restraint.
Dante's lips brushed against the sensitive skin of his thigh, sending a shiver of warmth through Helios' body that spread from the place of that touch. With slow, deliberate movements, Dante's tongue traced his way upward along the inside of his leg, drawing a soft, involuntary sound from Helios.
But before he completely lost his mind, Dante finally rose. His breath was just as heavy as Helios's, and the fierce arousal straining against his clothes made Helios swallow involuntarily.
Memories of their first union came rushing back—how overwhelming it had felt, how consuming, how deeply Dante had reached him.
He had felt as though he were being split in two, as if Dante's relentless hardness might pierce straight through the inside of his belly. Damn, he had felt every place where the tip had rubbed inside him.
Just the thought of it was enough to weaken his knees.
Dante captured his lips in a deep kiss, almost forcing him to surrender his senses, as he slowly guided him toward the desk. Helios allowed it, until he found himself bent forward over the cool surface of the tabletop. A shiver ran through him as cold gel slid across his skin. With calm, steady movements, Dante spread it, preparing him, before freeing himself. Without further hesitation, Dante entered him.
Helios held his breath and gripped the edge of the desk. It hurt just as much as it had the first time.
But this time it was Dante who was carving his way into Helios, not Helios forcing with all his might to draw Dante into himself. Dante was careful as he set a slow rhythm. From time to time he kissed Helios's neck, breathed warm air against his skin, soothing and guiding him until the tension melted away and only the growing sense of fulfillment remained.
Dante did not drive fully into him at first; he began with slow movements, his hands caressing Helios's body, until he quickened the pace and Helios had to cling to the desk for support. Dante was simply so much stronger than he was, and he had to struggle a little not to be shaken like a doll.
He pushed his hips back, which only intensified everything. A moan escaped him, instantly swallowed as Dante kissed him. Helios surrendered himself completely to the moment. He tried to stay quiet, but he knew it was only possible because Dante was muffling his sounds.
The rhythm deepened, stronger and more consuming with each movement, until Helios could only hold on, lost in the raw passion coursing through him.
Dante gave him no room to breathe, no escape. Dante was relentless, changing angles, deliberately seeking out the most sensitive bundle of nerves, until Helios could do nothing but cling to him, half-dazed from the intensity. It was so much rawer, more passionate, than he had ever expected from Dante. He had been so tender and cautious their first time together.
Had Helios somehow awakened the beast within him?
"I can't take it anymore," Dante whispered hoarsely between kisses, his voice thick with longing.
Helios felt like molten wax in his hands. And it still wasn't enough. He pressed his lips against Dante's again just as another moan threatened to escape. With a sudden thrust of his hips, he took Dante deeper than before. Helios gasped for air, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he sought him, demanded more, until he felt Dante's hips pressed tight against him, no space left between them.
Dante's hand slid to Helios's lower belly, brushing over with a gentle touch. Helios bit down on his lip, the only thing keeping him from crying out loud, while his body trembled uncontrollably.
It felt far too good.
'Do you feel how deep I am inside you?' Dante whispered hoarsely.
Helios could only nod. If he stopped biting his lip, he would surely cry out in pleasure. He forced himself to focus on breathing, but Dante began to move again—so fast now that Helios could hear the sharp rhythm of their bodies colliding.
The air seemed pressed from his lungs. His head felt stuffed with cotton, thoughts scattering into nothingness. He lost himself completely in the way their bodies fit together. There was nothing left but feeling—until release overtook him so powerfully that Dante had to cover his mouth. His whole body clenched, shuddering with the force of his climax.
Dante didn't stop right away; he kept moving inside him until, with a deep groan, he suddenly pulled back and spilled himself between Helios's thighs. The sudden emptiness made Helios shiver, his muscles trembling without end.
'Dante… kiss me,' Helios whispered, his voice shaky and soft.
He turned, wrapped his arms around Dante's neck, and drew him close. Their lips met in a slow, passionate kiss where desire and tenderness melted into one.