In the middle of the night, a tormented scream tore through the silence. Dante jolted awake, heart pounding in his chest, and looked around the dark hotel room in a daze. It took him a moment to grasp the situation. The scream still echoed in his ears.
"Helios?! Are you okay?!" he called out, alarmed – panic rising at the thought that someone had broken into their room.
He quickly turned to Helios. He was sitting bolt upright in bed, trembling, but apparently unhurt. Still, Dante let his gaze sweep through the room to be sure. Nothing. No movement. No danger. He exhaled in relief. A whimper sounded beside him.
"Helios?" he asked again, this time softer, more cautious. "Are you all right?"
Was he crying? Dante blinked into the dim light, unsure if he was imagining it. He had only seen Helios cry twice before – once when Davis had died, and the second time at his funeral. Slowly, Dante reached out his hand. He didn't know if it was the right thing to do, but just sitting there doing nothing felt wrong.
Helios sat motionless, one hand clutching his T-shirt, the other covering his face. He had pulled his knees tightly to his chest. Suppressed sobs escaped him, each one making his body tremble. If he had heard Dante's words, he gave no sign of it.
His breathing sounded labored. Dante wasn't surprised, considering Helios had been strangled just a few hours earlier. Still, he worried whether he was getting enough air. The way his sobs sounded so choked, Dante doubted it.
He switched on the small bedside lamp. Warm, dim light filled the room.
"Helios?" he asked once more, more gently. He placed his hand on Helios's shoulder. Helios flinched violently, but didn't pull away from the touch.
"It'll pass soon…" he murmured with a loud sniff. His voice still sounded incredibly hoarse, and Dante was instantly reminded of that day when he had nearly killed Helios himself. Even though Helios insisted it wasn't his fault, Dante still felt guilty.
Yes, Helios got on his nerves with his unpredictable, cold demeanor – especially when he spontaneously decided to try and kill him. But still, Dante didn't want to see the younger man suffer like this.
Despite his words, Helios now completely broke down. He pulled his knees even tighter to his chest, wrapped his arms around them, and buried his face in the crook of his elbow.
Dante didn't know what to say or do. He was completely overwhelmed by the situation. His hand still rested on Helios's shoulder. Why had he suddenly woken up screaming in the middle of the night? What had made him sit there like that? Was it because of Davis? But his death had been several weeks ago now, and in all the time Dante had shared a room with him since, Helios had never once acted like this.
Unless... the suitcase...
Helios's sleeping pills.
He hadn't taken any before going to bed. Damn, how strong was that stuff he took every night? Had he been drugging himself so heavily each night that he couldn't even enjoy normal sleep anymore?
Dante clenched his jaw.
He had already wondered how Helios was handling Davis's death so well. He had assumed it was because Helios generally showed such a cold and detached emotional range.
He couldn't have been more wrong.
That damned idiot had decided to go through it all alone. In his darkest time, not even his childhood friend Penelope had been by his side. Only Dante had been there with Helios—and he hadn't noticed a thing.
He should have been more attentive. Instead, he'd been questioning whether he could even trust Helios—despite the fact that Helios had never truly given him a reason to doubt him.
Helios had chosen to numb himself night after night, rather than talk to Dante.
Was it because he didn't trust him? Or because he had never talked to anyone about his relationship with Davis? Dante swallowed the disappointment rising in his throat. He hadn't been there for him these past weeks, but he could be there now.
To Dante, Helios was the person he was closest to. And it should have been the same for Helios. He wanted him to be able to rely on him—not just in battle.
"Helios?" he asked softly. He gently stroked Helios's shoulder with his thumb. "Is it about Davis?"
Helios flinched again.
"It's my fault he's dead..." he sniffled. His voice cracked. "He's only gone because of me..."
"He died because he wanted to protect you."
Helios let out a tortured laugh. He lifted his head and looked at Dante, his face streaked with tears. Even crying, he looked beautiful. His reddened eyes made the green of his irises shine even more.
"He died because I was the one who hired the assassins back then," Helios said.
Dante's breath caught.
More tears ran down Helios's cheeks. He grabbed Dante's shirt—not strong enough to pull him closer, so instead he dragged himself toward Dante. Even in perfect health, he probably couldn't have managed to pull Dante closer to him. Dante couldn't believe what he had just heard.
Helios had done what?! He had hired the assassins back then?
Dante stared at him, stunned.
"Why?" Dante asked cautiously.
Helios sat beside him, looking up at Dante. "Because I wanted to know if you could really heal yourself," Helios confessed. "Belladonna ruined everything. They were only supposed to give you a few obvious wounds in the fight—ones you couldn't easily hide. It wasn't supposed to escalate like that…"
Dante just stared at Helios. He had hired assassins just to give him a few wounds?
"You hired assassins for that?" he said aloud, voicing his thoughts.
Helios scoffed. "It's not like I could hurt you directly—and you always dodged my questions," he said quietly. His voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper. It was difficult to understand him. His piercing gaze locked onto Dante's. "I watched you. Tried to figure out if you were feeling any pain from your injury. But I couldn't come to a logical conclusion. I had to see it with my own eyes… His death wasn't supposed to happen…"
More tears ran down his cheeks.
Damn. So that's why Helios had acted so strange back then. He was right—Dante would never have told him the truth before that incident. He wouldn't have let him see that his wounds simply vanished.
So it had all been an accident. Because someone hadn't followed the plan…?
It explained a lot. It bothered him that Helios had gone so far as to send assassins after him—but he could also understand it. Dante would never have gone that far himself, of course. But then again, as someone who couldn't die, his concerns were different. It was strange. He was annoyed, but not angry. Helios had already killed him so many times that this felt like just one more drop in the ocean.
It's not like he could really die anyway.
What shocked him more was that Helios could go through with something like that so casually. Because he was always chasing new knowledge. Because he didn't care how he got his answers, as long as he got them.
Helios hit him in the chest with his fist.
"Damn it, say something…!" He was trembling. Helios seemed lonelier than Dante had ever imagined.
"It's okay," Dante heard himself say. "I would've never told you the truth if I hadn't been shot right in front of your eyes."
"Don't forgive me!" Helios sobbed. He let his head drop against Dante's chest. "Hate me, curse me, call me a monster. Condemn me for sacrificing the man I loved just to uncover your secret!"
"It really is okay."
Before Dante could think about it, he wrapped his arms around Helios. He had never been good at dealing with someone crying in front of him—and with Helios, it felt twice as wrong.
The younger man tried to pull away from the embrace—weakly, almost hesitantly. "You're supposed to hate me…" he sobbed again and again, until he finally gave up and cried uncontrollably into Dante's shirt.
"I can't hate you, Helios," Dante whispered. "You didn't want Davis and the other two to die. And besides… you matter to me—and not just because I depend on you."
The words left his lips, and the very moment they did, he wished he hadn't said them out loud. Why had he said that all of a sudden?
Because I care about him more than I want to admit…
When had he started seeing Helios differently? Was there even a specific moment? He'd been fascinated from the very beginning—by Helios's intelligence, his professional competence, his self-assurance, his cool aloofness. By his skills in the field, his relaxed demeanor—and completely captivated by his unique qualities.
He adored his beautiful features. His porcelain-pale skin, his messy black hair, soft to the touch, and his eyes that gleamed like emeralds. Since Davis had been gone, Dante had caught himself watching Helios more and more. The way he held his coffee cup. That amused look when he teased him. The way he read with intense focus. Every one of his quirks had etched itself into Dante's memory.
This trip had challenged him every single day. They had grown closer than ever before. He had never slept in the same bed with Helios, never felt such a strong urge to touch him—and yet here he was, finally holding him in his arms.
He was almost jealous of Davis—for having shared things with Helios that Dante had never been allowed to. He had always thought of himself as more drawn to women. But what Helios did to his emotional world was on a whole different level.
Jealousy… of a dead man. Of the librarian only a few hours earlier…
Suddenly, it hit Dante like a wave—he desired Helios.
Helios pulled away from the embrace. He looked at him, unsure.
"What did you just say?" he asked cautiously. He looked so hurt and uncertain that Dante's heart twisted again with pain.
The words were out—and Helios was far too intelligent for him to come up with a believable excuse. Dante swallowed his nervousness.
"I said you matter to me. I… maybe I see you as more than just my employer," Dante admitted.
Helios blinked a few times. "Stop messing with me," he said quietly.
"I'm not messing with you," Dante said gently. He wiped a tear from Helios's cheek with his thumb. "I mean it. And I won't take my words back."
He leaned down and pressed his lips to Helios's. They were softer than any lips he had ever kissed before—and tasted saltier than the sea itself. Helios let out a choked sound, but to Dante's surprise, he kissed him back.
It felt uncertain, hesitant—so Dante deepened the kiss with more confidence. The cat was out of the bag, and it was far too late to stuff it back in.
Dante's heart pounded wildly in his chest and—God—he felt more alive than ever before. He wrapped his arms around Helios's slender frame again, pulling him close until the younger man was seated on his lap. He held him gently, mindful of what he'd seen just a few hours ago—the bruises, the scrapes, the pain. With their suitcase lost, they had no painkillers left. Helios had to feel heavy pain, yet he didn't complain.
The memory of his suffering after the strangulation was still painfully vivid.
And yet—against every expectation Dante had (or hadn't had)—the kiss grew more eager on Helios's side. Damn, he knew exactly what he was doing. It stirred something in Dante that he hadn't even known could be awakened like this. But it wasn't enough. He wanted more. So he ran his tongue slowly across Helios's lower lip, asking for entry—and Helios responded immediately to the gentle request. He opened his lips and let Dante in.
Helios moved with surprising skill, using his tongue in a way that made Dante feel like he was floating somewhere far beyond reality. Soon, their tongues danced in a heated rhythm that made everything else fall away.
It felt impossibly good. Helios clearly knew what he was doing. For Dante, it had been a long time since he'd had such close physical contact with anyone. He couldn't even say off the top of his head when—or in which year—the last time had been. He hadn't even thought about kissing in recent years.
But now, he realized just how much he had missed it. More than he'd ever imagined. His body responded to Helios in a way no one else ever had—at least no one he could remember.
He wanted to feel him with all his senses. Dante pulled him closer, pressed into him—and Helios pressed back, their bodies moving against one another. A quiet moan escaped into the kiss.
Dante let his hand slide into Helios's soft hair, fingers weaving through it gently, while his other hand moved down his slim back. Helios shivered at the touch and let out a quiet sigh.
His own hand explored Dante's chest, tracing along the muscles, and every place he touched felt like fire, even through the fabric of Dante's shirt.
Was it only so easy to desire Helios because of his delicate frame? So much like what he was used to seeing in women? It was similar—and yet couldn't have been more different. Damn, he could barely hold himself back.
His hand wandered lower until it reached Helios's backside, brushing over it softly.
He had a rough idea of how things worked between men—and he was more than ready to find out exactly how it felt when it was real.
Still caught in their kiss, Dante gripped Helios's hips and shifted their positions, gently guiding him onto his back. Helios's legs wrapped around Dante's waist as Dante settled between them, careful not to press his full weight down.
He ran a hand along Helios's side, rewarded with another quiet raspy moan. Their bodies moved against each other, and Dante could feel the tension, the wanting, building between them.
Slowly, Dante slid his hand beneath Helios's shirt.
His lips left Helios's, and he kissed his way downward—trailing along his chin, more gently at his neck—but just as he began to move lower, Helios suddenly stopped him.
"Don't…" Helios said softly, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "Dante, stop."
Dante stopped immediately, lifting his gaze to Helios, who had hidden his face beneath his arm. He bit his lower lip.
"Did I hurt you?" Dante asked cautiously.
Helios shook his head. "I–I just can't. I can't do this."
Dante's eyes fell on Helios's bruised neck and the bandage peeking from beneath his shirt sleeve. He knew Helios wasn't talking about physical pain.
It was because of Davis... of course.
Dante tried to suppress the wave of disappointment and guilt rising inside him. How could he have overlooked the reason Helios was so shaken in the first place? He had completely misread the moment—and taken advantage of a situation that never should have gone that far. He couldn't even put into words how ashamed he felt. What an idiot he'd been.
"I'm sorry," Dante said quietly.
He pulled away from Helios and sat back a little. Helios was drenched in sweat, his breathing ragged. And just one look at his body told Dante that the kiss had aroused him just as much as it had Dante himself.
Helios sat up and ran a hand through his tousled hair. His eyes met Dante's.
He looked like he wanted to say something—but then he turned away and lay back down on his side. A low groan escaped him as he shifted, clearly in pain, trying to find a more comfortable position. He pulled the blanket up so high it almost covered him completely.
"We should forget that this just happened," Helios said quietly. A sharp pang shot through Dante's chest. "Before we continue tomorrow, I need to find a pharmacy and at least get some basic supplies."
He'd screwed up. Badly. Damn it, how could he have been so stupid?
"Okay," he replied softly.
He lay down as well, fully aware that he wouldn't be getting any real sleep that night.
___
"Ah! There's the pharmacy I wanted to go to," Helios suddenly said beside him.
He sounded excited, though his voice was still hoarse. He had wrapped a scarf around his neck to hide the bruises. Nothing stood out more than hand-shaped marks on snow-white skin.
Helios was acting as if nothing had happened the day before. He treated Dante just like always—joking, teasing, and seemingly brushing off everything that had occurred between them.
While Dante was still haunted by the memory of the kiss, Helios's focus was fully on the tasks ahead. As he had mentioned earlier, they were now on their way to the pharmacy. Along with the scarf, they had picked up a new coat and a shoulder bag, big enough for Helios to carry at least a few supplies. A custom-made case like the one he used to have would have to be ordered again.
"I'll wait out here for you," Dante said once they had reached the pharmacy.
Helios walked past him into the building. "Won't take long."
"It's fine. Take your time."
Then he was gone. Dante glanced around while he waited. They still hadn't figured out who had sent the assassins the night before. With practiced eyes, he scanned the crowd, searching for anyone whose behavior stood out.
He was worried they might run into more of them—especially given the fragile atmosphere now lingering between him and Helios.
For all of Helios's renewed ease, Dante felt increasingly closed off. He was trying to be professional—a proper guardian. He wanted to fulfill his duty. But emotionally, he was a wreck like he hadn't been in a long time.
He regretted letting his feelings take control. He wasn't the kind of guy who got pushy when it came to intimacy. It mattered to him that both sides wanted it, that both felt safe and respected. If Helios hadn't responded to that kiss the way he had, Dante would've stopped immediately—and apologized for crossing a line.
But now, that impulsive confession and the kiss stood between them—and Dante was ashamed.
He should have known better. Helios had once told him he wasn't his type—a comment that Dante's ego still hadn't completely recovered from.
Dante closed his eyes for a moment. He just hoped no more assassins showed up and that they could continue their search as planned. They still had a lot to do and a number of places to visit. They had just under a week left before they needed to return to Panthea.
He stopped scanning the crowd for threats and instead looked up at the blue sky.
He really hoped that in the days they had left, he and Helios could talk about what had happened between them. Even if they hadn't gone beyond that kiss. It was eating him up inside. He didn't want there to be anything unresolved between them. At this point, he almost wished the kiss had never happened—no matter how much it hurt to deny what he felt.
Helios emerged from the pharmacy, humming contentedly. His shoulder bag was stuffed full.
"Did you manage to get everything?" Dante asked.
"Pretty much. It's really the bare minimum, but at least enough for painkillers, disinfectant, acid, and a few firebombs," Helios said cheerfully. "Plus, I can recreate the prototype."
Dante looked at him in surprise. "Really?"
Helios nodded. "The prototype isn't actually that complex. This way, I can keep experimenting with our little friends until we finally find the lab," he said, glancing at his watch. "Let's head to the monument."
Dante hadn't expected that. He had assumed they'd either take the rats back with them or release them—not that Helios would want to keep experimenting, especially after all his materials had been destroyed.
He'd also noticed that Helios had carefully avoided mentioning that he could now make his sleeping medication again. But he couldn't bring it up. He just couldn't. He was worried Helios might shut down completely. Even if he wasn't usually the type, when it came to Davis, he seemed like a completely different person.
Together, they made their way toward the monument.
"Did you remember to get bandages? I should take another look at your arm later," Dante asked eventually, trying to steer the conversation toward something harmless. "I mean it—I want to check your arm again later."
"It's all in the bag. I even mixed myself a painkiller at the pharmacy. Stop worrying—I'm fine," Helios replied in his usual laid-back manner.
"I just don't want the wound to get infected," Dante said.
Helios sighed. "It won't. You cleaned the wound exactly like you always do, even without disinfectant. And if it does get infected, I still have plenty of ideas on how to deal with it," he added, his voice noticeably softer. "Besides, there should still be antibiotics in the travel bag."
"Okay. But if you start feeling worse, please say something," Dante urged.
"I will. Seriously, Dante—sometimes I'm really jealous of your self-healing abilities. I wish the wounds from yesterday's fight were already gone. I'd be able to move so much more easily," Helios said, giving Dante a playful nudge with his elbow. "By the way, have you come up with a name for your immortal rat companion yet? Odds are, we'll soon know how to replicate the serum."
Dante rolled his eyes. Oh right, the immortal rat. He'd almost forgotten. He looked over at Helios, and then something occurred to him—he smiled.
"Lio," he said decisively.
Helios gave him an amused glance. "Lio?"
Dante nodded. "If one of the rats survives, it'll be named Lio."
Helios laughed. "That's pretty cheeky," he remarked. "But fine—Lio it is."
"At the end of the day, you'll be its creator. Nothing wrong with naming a subject after its creator, right?" Dante said innocently.
"You're probably right about that," Helios muttered with a crooked smile.
Once they arrived at the monument, they searched everything thoroughly. They looked for areas where the ground tiles were especially worn down, any suspicious scratch marks, or fingerprints on the monument itself. Even cigarette butts could have been a clue.
But they found nothing.
After that, they went back to the first monument and searched it again in daylight. Also nothing.
By the time they were done, it was already late afternoon. Exhausted, Helios dropped onto a bench.
They had spent hours looking for clues that simply weren't there. There was nothing—not even the slightest trace. Dante had kept an eye on the people passing by too, but none of them looked even remotely like a scientist. Then again, you could only ever see what was on the surface.
It was frustrating not to have a single lead.
The one good thing was that Dante now felt like he had some emotional distance from the night before. Helios hadn't shown the slightest hint of what he might be thinking or feeling. So Dante had been left to process it more or less on his own.
He definitely wasn't ready to bury the feelings he'd discovered—but he was willing to wait. To wait until Helios was ready to open up. Even if he feared Helios might never think about their shared kiss again.
Right now, the important thing was to focus on the mission. This opportunity was too important to get distracted. Even if his gaze kept drifting to Helios.
"That was way too much walking," Helios said, wiping sweat from his brow.
"You lasted longer than I expected," Dante replied honestly. "How about we grab something to eat and then head back to the hotel?"
Helios gave a quick glance at his watch. "Sounds like a plan. I wanted to mix up another batch of the serum anyway. It won't be quite as clean as the original, but it should be good enough for the rats."
He exhaled slowly. "I didn't expect to find anything at the first two locations, but it's still frustrating."
"It's a whole different kind of work from being in the lab, isn't it?" Dante said.
Helios nodded. "It's fun, but damn, it's exhausting. So, big guy—what do you want to eat?"
Dante thought for a moment. "Good question. You already know what I like. But we just had grilled food yesterday."
"If I remember right, they had other dishes too. Let's go back there—I'm craving something hearty. Maybe we'll pick up something useful; the innkeeper seemed pretty chatty," Helios said with a slight smile on his lips.
Dante looked at him, stunned. By now, he knew exactly how Helios went about gathering information. Helios seemed to read his mind and laughed.
"I don't think that's the right way to get info out of the innkeeper. He didn't seem particularly interested in me that way. He had more eyes for your muscles. Though I doubt he swings that way," Helios laughed. "Still, it'd be interesting to see if it would work. Let's go, Dante."
"Wait, Helios—you're not seriously thinking about seducing the innkeeper!" Dante called after him, horrified.
He hurried to catch up as Helios walked ahead toward the tavern, clearly enjoying leaving Dante in the dark about what exactly he planned to do with the innkeeper.