Davis' lips were pressed firmly against Helios', while his hands slowly and purposefully glided along Helios' body, until they grasped his ass. Without hesitation, he lifted him up, and Helios immediately wrapped his legs around Davis' waist. In one fluid motion, Davis wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer and holding him tightly, as if he never wanted to let him go. With Helios in his arms, as though he were the most precious thing he owned, he took a few steps until they reached his desk. The impact was forceful, the desk shook, and something fell to the ground and shattered with a dull thud.
Helios paid it no attention. He didn't care at all. In that moment, nothing else could capture his focus. His senses were solely locked on Davis. The passion coursing through his veins almost drove him mad. He was impatient, craving more. How long had it been since they'd been this close? It felt like it had been much longer since they last touched. Yet they were together every day.
From the moment Helios woke up in the morning, Davis was always by his side—until he closed his bedroom door at night to retreat, or Davis accompanied him to his room. It had become a routine, one that had turned into an almost unbearable necessity. But now, in this moment, there were only the intense kisses, which dug deep into Helios' soul, pushing all other thoughts to the background. Everything else faded into insignificance, except for the man who held him in his arms and had him completely under his control. Just as it should be.
A tear rolled down Helios' cheek.
He paused briefly. Why should he cry when he felt so good? Yet somehow, he felt melancholic.
"What's wrong?" Davis asked gently, wiping the tear away with his thumb.
"Don't stop. Kiss me," Helios said firmly, pulling him back toward himself. Almost desperately, he kissed him, while forcefully ignoring the tears. He needed Davis here and now.
"Insatiable as always," Davis murmured with a soft laugh before pressing his lips back onto Helios'. Then, with a smile that radiated warmth and love, he added, "You're even damn gorgeous when you're crying."
"I need you, Davis," Helios sighed, his hands wandering beneath Davis' shirt, touching the warm skin beneath. His fingers slid over the muscles that tensed under his touch, and he felt a shiver run through Davis' body. Slowly, he moved upwards, until his hand brushed over the spot where his heart lay. The gentle shudder the touch elicited in Davis made Helios smile. The speed of Davis' heartbeat spoke volumes—all that mattered was him.
"I love you, Helios," Davis finally said quietly, "but I think we should start to slow down."
Helios looked at him, confused, his brow furrowing. "Why? It'll be a while before anyone shows up."
Davis gently stroked his cheek. "Because you have to wake up," he said calmly, but with a sharpness that caught Helios off guard.
No sooner had he spoken the words than Helios felt his hands suddenly sticky and hot. Horrified, he pulled them out from under Davis' shirt. An icy wave rushed through him as he realized that his fingers were soaked in blood. In a panic, he stared at the red substance slowly gathering on his hands.
No, no, no, no, no…!
The panic spread through him like an invisible monster, and his breathing became rapid and irregular. His eyes widened in horror as he lowered his gaze and saw the blood on his hands. What had happened? When was the last time he had taken a normal breath?
His heart was pounding loudly in his chest, but it felt as though it was about to stop. When he looked at Davis, he saw that his chest was also drenched in blood.
"…lios…" Davis said weakly.
"Davis!" Helios cried desperately as he saw him sink to the floor. The dull thud of his fall sent a shock of pain through Helios' body. The room around him seemed to blur.
He collapsed beside Davis, who lay motionless on the ground, and desperately grabbed his hand. But it was too late.
"Davis..." Helios whispered, his voice failing him.
But Davis was dead.
___
Helios shot up from his sleep. A sharp pain pierced through his head as he hurriedly sat up. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, and cold sweat covered his body. It felt as though the air was disappearing from his lungs, as if he were trapped in a nightmare. For a moment, he didn't know what was real, and then, in a frightening moment of clarity, he realized that he wasn't breathing.
The realization hit him like a blow, and instinctively, he greedily sucked air into his lungs. The desperate breath burned in his chest, but it only brought a fleeting sense of normalcy back to him.
He shivered all over, feeling cold. Helios wrapped his arms around himself and pulled his knees to his chest. Tears ran down his face.
Davis was dead. Still.
With trembling hands, he reached for his watch. It was seven in the morning. Time seemed to stand still as he tried to gather himself. The shock and emptiness that coursed through him made it impossible to find any peace. Sleep was no longer an option.
Helios slowly got up and dragged himself into the bathroom, taking a long shower. He stayed under the hot water until it ran out, trying to warm himself, though he still felt cold. He didn't feel well. The lump in his throat wouldn't go away. He dried himself off, fixed his hair, and put on his glasses. Then he glanced at the mirror.
His neck was still marked by the choking wounds Dante had left on him. His voice was still hoarse and raspy. He didn't sound like himself at all. But even though he sounded awful, no one was supposed to see the marks. He had an image to maintain. Thomas would have to cover them up.
His face, too, would need some work. He was exhausted, drained, and simply finished. He hadn't been able to leave the house in the past week. Dante had nearly choked him to death, and everything had felt like an overwhelming effort. Getting up, walking, eating... none of it had been possible without cold sweats.
As for eating, he hadn't been able to get much down. He ate regularly, but his portions were tiny and didn't really satisfy him. Everything had lost its taste, its color.
He took a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling slowly until he had calmed down enough to put on his invisible mask—the one Helios that everyone knew and respected.
Since Davis had died, he had grieved for himself.
It would have been strange for anyone else to see his tears for a Guardian. His father hadn't known about them, and after Davis' death, he wanted to keep this secret to himself.
Helios went into his bedroom and stared at the black suit that Thomas had hung in his wardrobe the night before. He stretched out his hand. He was still trembling slightly.
"Pull yourself together, Helios," he whispered in his still-hoarse voice.
Carefully and slowly, he put on the completely black suit. He would have to pull himself together. After all, today was Davis' funeral. Just the thought of it seemed to hollow him out. He put on his shoes and went to the window.
Helios drew the curtains aside and looked out at the rainy day.
Perfect weather for a funeral, but sunshine would have suited Davis so much better...
He didn't have to wait long before Thomas entered his room with his morning coffee.
"You're already awake, young sir," Thomas said, placing the coffee cup on the small table by the window.
The book lying there had come from Davis' room. It was an old detective novel, one Helios hadn't even known existed. He had taken all of Davis' books, as well as a necklace he had always worn, a keepsake from his parents.
He was supposed to give the necklace back to his sister. But Helios felt uneasy at the thought of parting with it. For Helios, it was an accessory that had always adorned Davis' neck, its metal always warm from his body heat.
Only he had ever been allowed to see the necklace, as Davis usually only revealed it when he was naked.
"I couldn't sleep anymore. My neck still hurts too much when I sleep," Helios said with a voice that sounded hoarse and hollow.
"Your voice still sounds awful," Thomas sighed. "Luckily, nothing worse happened to you that day."
Helios swallowed, calming his trembling hands as he turned to face Thomas. A faint smile appeared on his lips. "Because Davis was there to save me," he replied.
"Still hard to believe that he and Dante managed to protect you from the assassins," Thomas said.
It was the story Dante had told them when he brought Helios unconscious to the estate. Dressed in nothing but an oversized shirt, wrapped in a wool blanket, with a bandage on his thigh and dark bruises on his neck.
Dante had come up with a good story to cover up his actions and also the reason why Helios had been dressed the way he was. But Helios couldn't simply trust him again as if nothing had ever happened. Dante could try to squeeze the life out of him at any moment, and Helios would be more than cautious to make sure that didn't happen again.
"That's their job, right? Davis gave everything. He died a worthy death," Helios said in a calm, hoarse voice.
Thomas looked at him sadly. "He really was a fine man."
Helios swallowed as a sudden wave of grief hit him in front of the old butler. He clenched his fist and hid it so Thomas couldn't see. He tried to maintain a neutral expression.
"Above all, he really did his job well. It'll be hard to find someone who can replace him," Helios whispered with his raspy voice. His heart ached, and he urgently needed to change the subject, so he pointed to his neck. "Can you cover this up?"
"Of course. Why don't you sit down while I get everything we need?"
Helios nodded and sat down. He didn't trust his voice yet, and he still had to take it easy. His family's doctor had strongly advised him not to talk too much. He had gladly followed that advice. Not speaking had made it easier for him not to accidentally reveal anything.
He didn't have to face his father, and it had the pleasant side effect of allowing him to be left alone with pretty much everything. Thomas returned shortly after and began preparing him for the funeral. With each layer of makeup he used to hide Helios' exhaustion and every spot he covered from the choking marks, Helios buried his grief deep inside. He couldn't let anyone see what Davis truly meant to him.
Thomas, his father, a few guards, Dante, Penelope, and Davis' sister would all be present.
Above all, his father and Thomas couldn't notice anything.
"My mask is my armor,"he thought, like a mantra, as he forced himself to find inner calm. When Thomas stepped back to examine his work, Helios was at least outwardly ready to face the funeral.
But inside, a storm raged that he could barely hold back. That morning, he couldn't even get down his coffee, let alone have a proper breakfast.
___
Helios didn't know how or when he had arrived at the cemetery. The rain was pouring down relentlessly, and the cold, damp air seeped into his bones as he tried to orient himself. The day felt like it came from a nightmare. He couldn't even say how long he had been standing there, waiting for the funeral to finally begin. The Vale family had organized and paid for the funeral – just like they always did when one of the Guardians lost their life. It was a kind of tradition, an event done more out of obligation than heartfelt emotion. But for Helios, it was something different. For him, it was the moment when he had to say goodbye for good – not just to a Guardian, but to someone he loved.
In most cases, his father attended the funerals – always alone. Rarely had Helios bothered to accompany him. But with Davis, nothing had stopped him, not even the injuries he still felt. Despite his father's concerns, who had forbidden him to come out of worry – he thought Helios wasn't physically well enough – he had come that day. His father hadn't understood why it was so important to him and saw the funeral as something you did to save face, nothing more, nothing less.
"Can they hurry up?" his father said, annoyed, his voice sharp and impatient. "I have a meeting in an hour!"
His words struck Helios like a painful blow to the heart. The cold in his chest grew stronger as he tried not to let his rising anger overwhelm him. He pulled the umbrella down even further to avoid having to look at his father. The rain was a constant rush in his ears, filling him more and more with a deep melancholy.
"Claire should be here soon," Helios said quietly, his voice raspy and foreign-sounding.
His father shot him another irritated glance and checked his watch. "She's far too late."
Helios tried to raise his voice as he said, "Father, her brother has died. She's going to need a moment."
His father's gaze sharpened as he looked at him. "I know you liked Davis, but that doesn't mean I have to be understanding about all of this," he hissed.
Helios pressed his lips together and gripped the handle of his umbrella tighter. "Davis served me well for a long time," he whispered with a voice he intentionally made indifferent. "He more than deserves for us to respect his death."
"Those are new words from you, Helios," his father said, surprised. "Normally, you don't care when one of your Guardians dies."
Helios exhaled slowly. "Indeed. Davis was one of the few whose name I remembered."
So many scars had Davis earned from Helios' orders, and he always had that triumphant grin on his face. So many times he had promised to take care of him and protect him above all else.
Helios had never been so annoyed by anyone as he was with Davis. Maybe that was exactly why he started to care for him. He no longer tolerated Davis' teasing and began to fight back more and more. But Davis only found more enjoyment in teasing him.
Rarely had Helios' plans gone so wrong as the ones he had with Davis. He had wanted to kill him, yet Davis always survived. He wanted to shut him up, but Davis kept going. Once, when Davis had protected him, he had pulled him into an alley and pressed him tightly against a wall to keep their pursuers from seeing them.
Helios had never been in real danger, since he was the one who had issued the damned order. But Davis had cared so much about him, and then it just happened. Helios had kissed him. The man who had been driving him crazy for more than three months at that point. He had quickly pulled away from him, shoved him off. Helios couldn't believe what he had just done.
He had forbidden himself to let it happen again, telling himself that it wasn't normal to kiss another man. But Davis hadn't hesitated, pulling him into another kiss. Helios quickly gave in, and from that moment on, a wonderful time began, during which Helios learned things he had never thought possible.
Especially considering he had never cared about things like love before.
And just when he thought everything was perfect and that he could never let Davis go, he was torn away from him.
Yes, all his plans involving Davis had been doomed to fail from the start.
Helios couldn't protect. All he could do was destroy.
What was the point of wealth, power, and prestige if you couldn't use them to protect those you loved? If only he had stopped hiring assassins to kill for him, none of this would have happened.
His heart hurt so much that he clenched his hand into the fabric of his suit. His eyes burned. How long had he been standing there? It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. All he had left were these few moments to see his face.
Suddenly, he heard pounding footsteps, was jerked around, and looked directly into Claire's tear-streaked face. She glared at him, her tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Helios was envious of her tears.
"Clai..." Helios started, but she had already slapped him across the face with the palm of her hand.
Immediately, two guards positioned themselves between Claire and Helios, their presence like an impenetrable wall. She was forcefully kept at a distance while she raged loudly to herself, the anger in her voice like a storm, leaving nothing and no one untouched.
"You're to blame for his death!" she cried. Then she yelled at him. "He should have never started working for you! You're cursed, and everyone around you dies like damn flies!"
Helios felt the painful pressure on his cheek, still burning from her slap. What was he supposed to say? She was right. Every word she spoke hit the mark because he knew deep down that he was the reason for Davis' death. His hands trembled as he touched his aching cheek. The emptiness inside him was so deep it almost hurt physically. What could he say to lessen this guilt? There was nothing he could do to undo it.
She was right. He was responsible for Davis' death.
She buried her face in her hands. "I told him so many times to stop working for you! I begged him to leave you! He never came home, he was always just by your side!"
Helios turned his gaze away from her and looked back at Davis' lifeless face. A tear rolled down his cheek.
He suppressed a sob. If it weren't for me, you'd still be alive. Without me, Belladonna wouldn't have caught you. Without my presence there, you could have gotten to safety. It's only because of me that you're dead... I killed you...
Helios clenched his teeth so hard that his jaw ached. Claire cried uncontrollably in front of him, and he wanted to tell her how much Davis' loss hurt him, how much he missed him, and how much he had loved him. He wanted to apologize for dragging him into all of this and ruining both of their lives.
But he couldn't.
The lump in his throat hurt, his battered throat couldn't produce a sound. He couldn't stay there any longer. He had to get away before the floodgates opened for him too, and he ended up crying uncontrollably like Claire.
Helios dropped the hand that had been resting on his cheek. He gave Davis one last glance.
I love you, Davis, he thought. He tried to stay calm; when he was home, he could cry in peace. This was a final goodbye, and yet he had to keep up his role. I don't think I'll ever love anyone the way I loved you.
Then he walked away faster than he intended, leaving Davis and Claire behind. He stormed past his father, who looked at him in shock. He slammed the door open and stepped out into the pouring rain. It didn't take long before his clothes were completely soaked. Helios looked up at the sky and let his tears fall freely. His face quickly cooled, and it became so wet that he couldn't even tell if it was the rain or his tears that were wetting his face.
He walked without a destination, just moving forward, following the melancholic silence of the cemetery. At some point, without knowing why, he stopped and stared at a weathered statue, which had probably once depicted an angel. It was a symbol of hope, but to Helios, it only seemed like a relic of the past, as broken and decayed as he felt.
Belladonna would pay dearly for his actions. He would personally tear him apart. He would make Belladonna suffer so much that he begged to finally die, and Helios would savor every damned second of his demise.
An umbrella opened above him, shielding him from the rain. Helios looked up and saw Dante's serious face. His immortal Guardian. Dante looked at him with a sad expression.
Dante handed him a cloth with which Helios dried his face. Helios looked away.
"No one is here. No one sees you," Dante said softly as he handed him a tissue to dry his face.
Helios looked away, the pain in his eyes no longer hidden. "I don't need it," he rasped in a hoarse voice.
Dante was silent for a moment, then spoke, almost tenderly, "I know what you both felt for each other, Helios."
"How did you...?" Helios laughed in disbelief. "You're really smarter than your muscles let on..." he sobbed.
He didn't care that Dante knew. In a way, it made him feel less alone in that moment. Helios let his tears flow freely, and when they finally stopped, he dried his face, wiped his nose, and looked into Dante's reddish-brown eyes with determination.
Helios needed a focus. The pain was still there, but he knew he had to do something to ease it. He remembered the vow he and Dante had made a week ago: He would help Dante find a solution for the agony of immortality, and in return, Dante would help him with his revenge.
Oh Belladonna, you'd better get ready for what I have planned for you…