Helios entered Dante's apartment and took a deep breath. It was only the third time he had been here, and yet he was overcome by this strange feeling of freedom and security. As if the suffocating weight that threatened to crush him at home simply fell away inside these walls. It was strange, but he felt more at home here than within his own four walls.
The first time, Dante had dragged him here after Davis had died and Helios had discovered his secret. It was here that Helios had killed Dante for the first time. This was also the place where they had made their pact.
And in the same bed, they had had sex for the first time. Also their second, third, and fourth time… it had been a damn long night, and nothing had stopped them from losing themselves in each other over and over again.
Now he was here because he couldn't bear being at home any longer.
The situation at home choked the air out of him. He couldn't endure it for another second. Not after his father had once again tried to push him into fulfilling that damn wish of his.
…why couldn't he just let go?
Helios had moved on—why couldn't his father? Why did he have to rip open that old wound again and again? He wasn't a damn magician. He couldn't just wave a wand and, with a flick of his wrist, accomplish what his father demanded of him.
He didn't want to hear any more about it. Nothing about those insane ideas. Those unrealistic dreams…
Behind him, he heard the quiet click of the door shutting. The dull thud of a bag being carelessly dropped to the floor. The rustle of fabric as Dante slipped off his jacket, and finally the steady sound of breathing that filled the room.
Helios had been silent the entire drive. He had been so angry that he hadn't been able to get out a single word. How was he supposed to explain all of this anyway?
He might have been a genius, but there were many things he truly wasn't good at—especially when it came to himself. Even with Davis, it had taken a long time before he had been able to open up.
Helios let himself fall onto the bed. He hadn't taken off his shoes or his coat. He just lay there, staring at the ceiling, still boiling with rage.
Footsteps approached. When Dante sat down beside him, the mattress dipped under his weight. He leaned down over Helios, blocking the ceiling from view. Dante's reddish-brown eyes looked at him with concern.
"What did he ask of you?"
Helios sighed. He rolled onto his side, turning his gaze away from Dante as if that could make the problem vanish. He didn't want to talk. He wanted to forget.
"Do we have to talk about it?" he asked softly. How much he hoped Dante would say no and just touch him. Help him forget this damn evening. He didn't want to think anymore.
"We don't have to," Dante said. His voice was gentle, warm, imbued with that unshakable understanding that comforted Helios and cornered him all at once. "But I want to understand. What did he do that made him shout at you like that? What did you do to make him lose it?"
"He was drunk. Just let it go, Dante."
But despite his words, Helios rolled onto his back and met his gaze. Having to keep thinking about this alone hurt. He didn't want to think anymore, didn't want to hear another word of it. Why couldn't his father just let the matter rest?
"Can't we just forget this evening ever happened?" Helios asked quietly. He felt exhausted.
But no matter how much he wished they wouldn't talk about it, he knew he couldn't avoid telling Dante everything. That didn't stop him from at least trying.
He sat up and kissed his lover. One hand slid to Dante's cheek, the other held onto his shoulder. He straddled his lap. Dante kissed him back softly, and though Helios tried to deepen the kiss, it remained nothing more than innocent touches. Dante made no move to take it further—even if his body betrayed different intentions.
Helios rested his forehead against Dante's.
"Why can't we just feel each other until the sun comes up?" Helios whispered, almost desperately. "I don't want to keep thinking about it."
"Tell me about it, and I'll let you forget for as long as you want," Dante said softly. "I want to understand what's going on. I don't even want to leave you alone with him anymore—the guy's completely insane."
Helios let out a quiet sigh. Dante deserved the truth.
"You won't let this go, will you?"
"Not this time, sorry."
Helios exhaled slowly. He would have to open up—there was no other way. If he kept hiding the truth any longer, Dante would grow suspicious, and then tension would hang between them again. His stomach churned at the memory of the last time that had happened. No. He didn't want to fight with Dante anymore.
But what should he tell him? Everything? About Soley? Or about what his father had been demanding from him for years?
Helios didn't want to continue the Soley experiments. Inevitably, he would end up finding a cure for immortality. Would Dante want to be mortal again then? Helios feared the answer. He had only just begun to embrace the thought of living forever, of gaining vast knowledge. He wanted to experience so much. He didn't want to be mortal again—and he definitely didn't want to watch Dante die before his eyes. He couldn't bear that.
But how would Dante react if he told him about the other matter?
Helios took a deep breath.
One thing at a time.
That was always the best approach.
"It's… quite a lot…"
"We have time," Dante said. He sounded almost relieved. But Helios's heart tightened painfully.
"He wants a lot from me," Helios whispered. "It's hard to think straight… I'm so incredibly angry at him…"
"Understandable. He did seem pretty furious," Dante said gently.
Helios nodded silently. This would take time, and his clothes were suffocating him. At the very least, he needed to change.
He climbed off Dante's lap, took off his coat and shoes, slipped out of his pants, laid aside his gloves and even his prosthetic. He pulled off his sweater and replaced it with a T-shirt and sweatpants. Finally, he lay down on the bed and patted the mattress softly beside him. Dante lay down next to him and looked at him expectantly.
Where should he begin?
Helios's gaze locked onto Dante's eyes, filled with affection as they rested on him. It was the same look Davis had once given him. So sincere and unwavering, almost frightening in its depth. Dante loved him with everything he was. And Dante had always been there for him, no matter the situation. Even when Helios had stabbed him brutally with a knife, shortly after they'd heard of Penelope's death.
This man annoyed Helios with his morality—they were complete opposites. While Dante valued and protected life, Helios did whatever he wanted. If he saved a life, it was because it was a challenge and he wanted to see how his substance worked. It was science, nothing more and nothing less. And besides, there was that urge inside him. An urge that only eased after he had killed someone.
He didn't know if he would ever be able to stop. And it was also that dark side he never wanted Dante to see again.
Since he had died, he hadn't killed anyone. He had been with Dante, and that giant of a man had wonderfully distracted him with his affection and his body.
Helios wanted nothing more than to feel Dante inside him and skip the talking entirely.
But things couldn't always go his way. They were a couple, and Dante truly deserved to know a few things.
Helios moved close to Dante until his face rested against Dante's chest. He wrapped his arms around him, and Dante, in turn, held him in his embrace. Dante's scent somehow soothed him, even though this subject was still painful after all these years—mainly because of his father. After all, Helios had already made peace with it as a child.
A kiss landed on the crown of his head.
"Take all the time you need," Dante murmured.
The anger still boiled deep in his veins, hot and untamed. But the longer he lay there with Dante, the more he relaxed. He took another deep breath. There was no point in dragging it out any further.
"He wants me to bring my mother back to life," Helios whispered before he could change his mind.
"What?!"
"He's obsessed with her."
"But didn't she die when you were still a child?"
Helios nodded.
"I told you it would be a long story."
Dante gently stroked his cheek, his gaze steady but full of warmth. "Will you tell me about it?"
Helios nodded again. He closed his eyes for a moment, then began to speak of the time when he had still been a little boy, discovering the world and its mysteries with curious eyes.
"As a small child, I didn't take long to develop. I could walk and talk early, and it didn't take long before I started questioning everything. People called me bright, and even back then they referred to me as a genius. I can still clearly remember the time when I was two years old. I wanted to know everything, wanted to understand how things came to be and how they worked. The only thing that didn't really interest me was other people. Especially children my own age."
He smirked.
"They were boring, stupid, and far less developed than I was. I much preferred adults. Probably the main reason why I was so attached to my parents."
Dante listened quietly; all Helios heard from him was his calm breathing. He could feel Dante's watchful gaze resting on him and his hand stroking his back in reassurance.
"My mother was a loving and adventurous woman. She was different from the other women in high society. She often played with me outside, or we would spend the whole day hiding away in the library, reading and eating cookies. Back then, I loved sweets, and they always tasted better when she was with me. Father would often join us when he finished his work. Our family life was like something out of a fairy tale. I was truly happy in those days."
His heart grew heavy as he thought of those happy times.
"When I turned six, I learned that my mother was ill. We had gone shopping together in the city because she absolutely wanted to get me new clothes. I had met Penny and, for the first time, decided I wanted to be friends with someone. Mother had been so overjoyed that nothing could hold her back. We'd had a wonderful day, until she just collapsed. She suddenly developed a fever, and her body simply couldn't keep going. Back then, we didn't have all those guards. Just one escort for our protection—who was little more than a bag carrier."
"That must have frightened you," Dante said softly.
"You have no idea how much. Everything had been perfect up until that point, and I felt nothing could ever harm us. For me, the world was completely in order, and yet until then I had known nothing of my mother's physical weakness. Our escort acted quickly, and we brought her back to the estate, where she fought the fever for a long time. Her immune system was weak, and the doctor had advised her not to overexert herself anymore. It seemed to be a miracle that she had even survived my birth, given how fragile her constitution was."
"Is that why you became interested in medicine?"
"She was the reason for everything I am today," Helios whispered. "While she was recovering, I studied everything I could get my hands on. Back then, we still had the trading company, and Father supported me by buying every book on medicine, anatomy, and drugs he could find. I was afraid Mother would collapse again, and I didn't want to go outside anymore. She often tried to convince me, but I refused and preferred to stay with her in the library. When she eventually caught a cold, I mixed my first medicine—and it worked surprisingly well."
"So she recovered quickly?" Dante asked, and Helios could hear the smile in his voice.
"It took a few tries, of course—but yes," Helios smiled. "Father was so thrilled that he wanted to support me further. He made connections with doctors, pharmacists, and healers. I learned so much during that time and absorbed it all like a sponge. He was happy to see me like that, and proud. As proud as my mother was, too. By the time I was eight, I had understood most of the principles related to medicine. By then, I had developed one or two effective remedies that my father distributed and made known."
Helios snorted.
"Back then, I didn't yet realize how greedy he was. In any case, he rarely let me go to appointments without protection. One escort became two guards. If my mother accompanied me, there were at least four. He loved us and showed it every day. Damn, even when I was eight, my parents were still in love as if it were the very first day. It truly was a beautiful time."
A smile crept onto his face. His mother had always been a strong woman, whose frail body had never been able to rob her of her mental energy.
"From the way you're smiling, you loved her very much, didn't you?" Dante asked quietly.
"More than anything else in the world. Just as I loved my father back then—I respected him like no other. Damn, I wanted to be just like him when I grew up," he said softly. "Anyway, one day she accompanied me to an appointment with a rather well-known pharmacist. He taught me botany and how to create substances. That man had more knowledge than any of the books I had read at the time."
Helios swallowed hard as he thought of that day.
"On the way back, we were attacked," Helios said darkly. An ironic laugh escaped his throat. "It was the first time my guards actually had something to do. Whoever wanted to harm us managed to take down two of them. We ran. My mother never let go of my hand, running as fast as she could. But because of her constitution, we didn't get very far. We hid, but unfortunately, they found us. She died protecting me, and our last guard soon after. It was damn close, but he managed to save me—just barely."
Dante pulled him closer.
"She died right there in my arms. My father changed after that—he became obsessive. I wasn't allowed to go anywhere, there were always people around me. He locked me up in the estate, supposedly for my own protection. He never said who was behind the attack. It was suffocating… but also exactly right. I was terrified, and it wasn't the only attack. Only later did I learn that Father had founded the company and was in the process of monopolizing the pharmaceutical market."
Dante stayed silent. Helios's lips twisted into a bitter smile. "Left you speechless?"
"I… never thought it happened like that. Damn, I thought all this time she had died of her illness…" Dante said quietly. "No wonder nothing shocks you anymore. After all that, it would be a miracle if you hadn't become somewhat numb."
His voice sounded so bitter and full of care that Helios snuggled a little closer against him.
"I never would have allowed that," Helios said softly. "The rest you can probably piece together. I shut myself off, got a lab where I could do research, and spent my time doing what I enjoyed. Every now and then I was attacked and more than once barely escaped with my life. Eventually the fear faded. I stopped caring, and even death didn't seem so frightening anymore. Penny was always by my side. I had Thomas, who was more of a father to me than my own father ever was. I met Spider, then Davis, and finally you came into my life."
Helios sighed.
"A year later he asked me if I could imagine developing a resurrection drug. It sounded interesting, but I didn't want to. The way he asked—it sent a chill down my spine. Then he accused me of not loving my mother. That was also when I realized we had buried an empty coffin—that he hadn't come to the funeral because he knew my mother hadn't been buried. From then on, he kept asking me, over and over. He drank, raged, screamed at me. But I never gave in."
Helios looked into Dante's eyes. He looked sad, his features filled with pity.
"Was that the reason for your fight?" Dante asked carefully.
Helios nodded. "We always fight about this. He wants me to do it, and I think soon a simple 'no' won't be enough anymore."
"He can't force you."
Helios's mouth twisted. He knew what his father was capable of, and with every time he asked Helios to bring his mother back, his anger grew. He could force him—and he had more than enough means to do it. But he had never physically harmed him before, so maybe nothing would happen after all. Even if his father's patience was slowly but surely running out.
There was no reason to worry Dante. At least not until he was certain his father could truly harm him.
"You're right—he can't," Helios said with a smile, though he didn't feel it at all. He sighed. "I just wish he would accept it. Dead is dead, for god's sake."
"Do you know where she is?"
"No. He never told me. That's why I haven't been able to do anything." Helios's jaw tightened as he forced the words out between clenched teeth.
The anger was rising in him again. He would have liked nothing more than to truly bury her. She hadn't deserved any of this. Damn it, if only he knew how his father was preserving her now… after all, his mother had been dead for fourteen years. Was her body even still intact?
"If you want, we can look for her," Dante said, pulling him out of his thoughts.
Helios looked at him in surprise, then slowly shook his head.
"I don't have the slightest clue, Dante. I wouldn't even know where to begin."
"Fortunately, we have plenty of time."
"That's not the issue," Helios said. A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Though you're right—we do have a hell of a lot of time."
"We could look for clues. After all, we stumbled upon leads that led us to Soley, didn't we?"
"Yes, but there we could rely on your memories. I only know the estate, my lab, and the handful of places I visited more or less regularly. I've never once heard even a whisper about where she could be. He's doing this deliberately, because he knows I want to find her. He's hoping I'll eventually give in and do what he wants."
"I really don't like your father," Dante growled.
"That makes two of us," Helios muttered.
He didn't want to talk about his mother anymore—it was pointless anyway. If he wanted to find out where she was, he'd have to at least pretend he was willing to help. Pretend he truly wanted to bring his mother back to life. Damn it, he could never make that convincing. He needed some kind of distraction. Unfortunately, there was only one other unpleasant subject he could bring up.
His hand clenched into Dante's shirt.
"Dante?" he asked softly.
"Hm?"
"What would you say if… maybe there was a way to become mortal again?"
The question hung heavy in the air. Helios saw Dante's features freeze, saw pain and fear flicker across his face. First surprise, then hesitation, and finally a deep, raw fear Helios hadn't expected.
"Honestly? I don't know," Dante said. "I don't ever want to watch you die in front of my eyes again and be powerless to stop it."
In silence, Helios held his gaze. Something in his chest tightened as he saw Dante's fear.
"Hey," Dante whispered softly after a while, lifting a hand to touch his cheek. "Are you okay?"
"I don't want to watch you die either…" Helios whispered, barely louder than a breath. "I can't bear it anymore—watching everyone I love leave me."
Dante kissed him. "Don't worry. Even if there were a cure, I wouldn't want to use it now. But… what made you bring this up?"
His expression hardened as realization set in.
"Please tell me this isn't what I think it is…"
Helios nodded. "But it is exactly what you think. He doesn't just want me to bring Mother back—he wants me to continue Soley's experiments."
Dante suddenly tensed.
"So there's more than just one Soley?"
"Yes. Even though I don't know how many illegal companies he still has," Helios snorted. "I don't want to have anything to do with it… If I agree to continue the experiments, he'll force me to work on the matter of my mother as well."
Helios looked at him seriously.
"Once I say yes, there'll be no way out," Helios said. He gently stroked Dante's cheek. "If you don't want to take this 'chance,' I'd rather do nothing and just let him rage on."
He was practically begging Dante to say no. Helios truly didn't want to act—everything awaiting him was nothing but pain and a hopeless situation. Unless he killed his father, striking the problem at its root. But no matter how much he hated him, he didn't want to kill him. He was the only thing left of his family.
Of course, there were other branches of the family—uncles, aunts, cousins.
But he hadn't seen them in so long they might as well not exist.
He studied Dante, every tiny shift in his expression. He looked torn.
"If there are more places like Soley, then there are also people there suffering…" Dante said quietly.
Defeated, Helios lowered his forehead against Dante's chest, breathing in his scent as if he could cling to it. "Do you want me to do it?"
"Damn it, I don't know," Dante growled in despair. "If I say no, then innocent people might keep suffering… if I say yes, then you suffer…"
Helios clenched his hand in the fabric of Dante's shirt.
Was it cruel of him to leave this decision to Dante?
While Dante wrestled with himself, silence settled between them. He struggled to make a choice—Helios felt it in every fiber of his being.
He bit his lower lip.
It shouldn't be Dante making this decision—it had to be him.
The choice had already been made anyway. If he didn't do it, Dante would keep thinking about it over and over again.
"It's okay, Dante. I'll do it," Helios said softly and kissed him.
This time, thankfully, it didn't stop at innocent kisses.