Chapter 91
Caelum resumed scrubbing without a single word. Methodical. Thorough.
When he finished with the shoulders and neck, he wrung out the cloth once.
Water splashed back into the tub. He folded it neatly.
Laid it on the stone tray with quiet, deliberate finality.
"I'm finished with your shoulders," Caelum said flatly. No inflection. Statement of fact.
Velis blinked.
His playful smile vanished like someone had physically wiped it off his face.
He rose out of the tub in one abrupt, violent motion.
Water sheeted off his body. Slapped back into the marble with a loud splash that echoed off stone.
Drops scattered everywhere. Hit the floor. The walls. Some hit Caelum.
The heat made them hiss faintly as they struck hot stone.
Velis stood there. Completely naked. Water streaming down his body.
Steam rising around him like he was some kind of god emerging from primordial waters.
Except his face was too alive. Too dramatic. Too ridiculous. He put one hand over his heart like he'd been mortally wounded.
Like Caelum had stabbed him. His voice rose. Loud. Echoing off marble and tile.
"I see how it is!" Velis declared to the empty room.
The words bounced around. Mock tragedy poured through every syllable.
He sounded like an actor performing for a court that wasn't there. Hamlet discovering betrayal.
"You're a cruel user, Caelum!" He pointed an accusing finger. Water dripped from it dramatically. "A heartless opportunist!"
He paced two steps. Water dripping from his body. Leaving dark, wet footprints on white stone.
"You only wanted my body to cure you!" he continued. His voice went higher. More wounded. "You used my body to burn the poison away from your veins. You took what you needed and now—"
He looked below at his naked body.
"—now you treat me like a common peasant! Like I'm nothing! You've drained my dick of its precious secrets!" His hand pressed harder against his chest. "You've used me! Thoroughly! And now you throw me away like garbage!"
He stopped. Turned. Stared at Caelum with wide, wounded eyes. The picture of heartbreak.
Silence.
Steam drifted between them.
Caelum didn't react. Not to the volume. Not to the performance. Not to the naked vampire having a breakdown in front of him.
He simply picked up the wet cloth from the tray. Held it for a moment. Then dropped it back into the tub. It hit the water with a dull splash.
He wiped his damp hands on his trousers like he'd just finished taking out trash. Like he'd completed an unpleasant chore.
"Are you done?" Caelum asked. The question was simple. Direct. Flat. It cut deeper than any shouted insult. Deeper than any weapon.
Velis froze mid-performance. Mid-gesture. His eyebrows lifted slightly. Genuinely offended by the complete lack of response. Like an actor who'd expected applause and got only silence.
"Have you no heart, boy?" Velis demanded. His voice cracked slightly. Still theatrical. "No compassion? No appreciation for what I've given you? I heard you’re the most pure kind-hearted prince Ashan Federation ever had”
“You know problem with the most dangerous psychopaths are they’re funny and and lively. They like to play pretend, acting like the most harmless people you’d ever meet. Unintentional. Innocent. Safe. But they could hurt you. And they would.”
Caelum's eyes stayed on Velis's face. Calm. Flat. Clear as glass. "The water's getting cold, Velis," Caelum said simply.
Nothing else. No elaboration. No emotion.
Velis just stared at him.
Steam curled between them. The room smelled of expensive oils and hot stone and something faint beneath it all—blood that wouldn't fully wash away no matter how much they tried.
Caelum turned around. Didn't hurry. Didn't storm out dramatically. He just walked. Steady pace. Measured steps. He didn't look back. Not once.
He walked out of the steaming room. Let the heavy door swing shut behind him. The sound slammed through the space. Echoed down the corridor outside. Final. Dismissive. Like punctuation on a sentence.
Velis stood there alone. Naked. Dripping. Steam rising around him like ghosts.
For several long seconds, his face stayed frozen in that expression of mock pain. Like he might continue acting even without an audience. Like the performance was for himself now.
Then slowly—very slowly—the mask cracked. A small, dark smirk returned to his face. Genuine this time. Not performance. Real.
It was the look of a man who'd lost a battle. But knew—absolutely knew—he was winning the war.
"Such a difficult pet," Velis whispered to the steam. To the empty room. To himself.
He stayed in the water until it turned lukewarm. Until the steam started to fade. Until the oils stopped smelling quite so strong.
His mind was already moving. Thinking. Planning.
Placing pieces on an invisible board that only he could see.
He knew Caelum had used him. Knew the boy was only tolerating his touch to heal his broken body. To survive. To get stronger. But Velis didn't mind being used. Not at all.
Because every single time Caelum took something from him—every time their bodies connected, every time Caelum gave in even slightly—it left a mark on the boy's soul. Invisible. Indelible.
Caelum was no longer a prince of Ashan. Not really. Not anymore. He was becoming something else. Something shaped by Velis's hands. Molded by his will.
And that was a victory better than any treaty. Better than any title. Better than any crown.
