Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Seven years ago, the world changed forever. After the war humanity waged against the alien creatures that threatened to wipe them out, society did everything it could to restore order. No one knew what triggered the phenomenon, whether it was something the invaders brought with them or an extreme adaptive response from the human body desperate to survive.

Three variants emerged, later called Alphas, Betas, and Omegas.

The Alphas became stronger, capable of fighting these monsters as long as they worked together. Their resilience was key to ending the war. Almost a quarter of the world’s population was lost, and governments could not understand how some men were now able to conceive children. They saw it as a solution to recover those lost lives. Betas remained unchanged, a sort of balance between the past and the new present.

Many evolutionists died during the war; only a few survived, mostly Alphas tough enough to endure. Governments began massive testing campaigns, classifying every citizen into one of the three ranks. Evading this was illegal. Omegas were no longer allowed to work in stressful or physically demanding jobs, and a new law forced them to have at least one child to help restore the population. With both women and now men being capable of pregnancy, projections estimated that, in ten years, the world could return to its previous numbers. Half of the twenty years originally estimated when only women could give birth.

Evolutionary Omegas were highly valued but considered almost mythical. After the new laws, most of them went into hiding, finding ways to falsify their classification. They knew they were hunted because Alphas coveted them; their offspring would always be stronger, always evolutionary. An evolutionary Omega could not produce a child without powers. Normal Omegas had a fifty percent chance.

Omegas now depended on Alphas for almost everything. An evolutionary Omega was required to wear a collar that suppressed their abilities, deemed unpredictable and volatile. Only their Alpha could decide whether they were allowed to use their powers, and until they were mated, the collar had to remain on at all times. Omegas over twenty-five who had not yet mated or had a child were taken to government facilities, where they were paired with compatible Alphas to form a family. Some countries rejected these laws, calling them dehumanizing. They kept their borders open as sanctuaries for Omegas seeking freedom, though reaching them was difficult.

Zayne was painfully aware of all these changes. Seven years ago, he had become an Omega, an evolutionary Omega. During the two-year war, he had barely graduated as a doctor when he volunteered on the front lines, saving lives in the chaos. His ice ability made him indispensable, keeping injured soldiers alive, preserving organs and limbs long enough for transplants. Many lived thanks to him.

To everyone else, Zayne appeared to be an Alpha. His height, unusual for an Omega, along with his stoic and stern demeanor, made it easy for people to assume. His position as head surgeon at the most important hospital in the city only reinforced the illusion. He knew that the life he had fought so hard to build would collapse the instant his true identity was discovered. He could not allow that. He had to pretend to be an Alpha to continue saving lives.

To hide his nature, he had synthesized neutralizers: pills that masked his scent and suppressed his instincts, and fake pheromones he injected himself with whenever he had to take classification tests. Obtaining materials wasn’t difficult given his access to the hospital morgue. After studying the bodies of fallen Alphas, copying their genetic signature and creating an artificial version wasn’t hard. Thanks to that, the world believed his lie.

“Three months until my heat,” Zayne muttered in his office. He had just finished a successful surgery and had paperwork to complete before going home. He checked the hormonal cycle marked in his notebook. Even with the pills, he had only been able to delay his heat to once every three months instead of every month. He knew he was poisoning his own body—his uterus, specifically—but becoming a mother wasn’t part of his plans. At nearly thirty, he should have been a mother five years ago, according to the law. But sacrificing that for the sake of helping others was worth it. Sterility didn’t scare him. The world was too cruel to bring a child into.

He mentally counted how many pills he had left at home. He had five. Not enough. He’d need to visit the lab. Better to be safe than sorry. He scratched the patch on the back of his neck; it itched against his shirt. It masked his scent with an artificial Alpha one.

Two knocks on the door pulled him from his thoughts.

“Come in,” he said, closing the notebook quickly and slipping it into his briefcase. His assistant, Greyson, entered, locked the door, and all but collapsed into the chair across from the desk.

“A damn Alpha showed up with a teenage girl,” Greyson said. “He wants to know if she’s pregnant. She was crying. Days like this make me wonder how much more of this I can stand.”

Zayne’s grip tightened around his pen. Without the scent patch, the room would already be thick with the bitter note his anger always carried.

He knew he couldn’t save everyone, but the knowledge didn’t soften the blow.

“How are you holding up? It’s been a rough week for you. You’re barely sleeping. You need to rest, Zayne.”

“I know. How are the labs on the west side? Did they get their supplies?”

Greyson, a normal Omega—the only one who knew Zayne’s secret—nodded. Together, they distributed the pills to illegal labs allied with the Resistance. If those labs ever ran out, they helped restock them. If anything happened to Zayne, Greyson would be the one to keep the network alive.

“Yes. Last night they started their weekly distribution. Everything’s under control.” He noticed the sudden topic change but didn’t push. He knew Zayne well enough.

“If everything’s fine, I’ll head home. My shift’s over.” Zayne stood, grabbing his briefcase and turning off his computer.

“Actually… there’s something else. You know the annual humanitarian campaign starts next week. Like every year, our hospital is participating.”

Zayne nodded. The campaign lasted three days. Doctors were deployed to the areas that needed them most. Five years after the war, many places were still in ruins.

“We’ve been assigned to Zone N109,” Greyson continued quietly. “I thought you should know. You might want to take extra precautions.”

Zayne stared out the window. Zone N109 was a dangerous place, especially for Omegas. A lawless zone, governed by its own rules. Even with the pills dulling his instincts, something inside him stirred at the warning. He knew the risks. But he also knew those people needed help.

“Thanks, Greyson. I’ll keep it in mind. Now go home. Your heat is coming. You shouldn’t stay here this late.”

With a weary sigh, Zayne left the office and took the emergency stairs—avoiding the crowded elevator. As he crossed the parking lot toward his car, a shiver traced his spine. Zone N109 was unavoidable, but knowing that didn’t make the dread any less real.

Chapter Text

Zone N109 was a boundary for some, and for others a world without any boundaries at all. It lay on the outskirts of Linkon, connected to the city by highways that were mostly abandoned, since no one in their right mind would choose to go there on their own. N109 had been one of the places most heavily attacked and destroyed during the invasion. When it was over, its structure remained almost entirely in ruins. Yet it rose again, twisted and wrong, but functional enough to call itself a city.

It governed itself on its own terms. Most of its population consisted of war leftovers: the homeless, thieves, drifters, and people who no longer had a place in a city like Linkon and came seeking somewhere to exist. Of course, there were innocent people here too, though they made up less than half the population. And within that organized chaos, there was a king.

Zone N109 had a peculiar trait. No one understood why, but after the war, its sky never saw sunlight again. It remained in a constant darkness, as if trapped in an eternal night. Its days carried a deep orange hue, almost red, like that fleeting moment in a normal sunset when the sky abandons its blue and slips into a burning orange before night takes over. But daytime barely lasted eight hours, leaving the remaining sixteen swallowed by complete darkness. Rain and storms were common, with lightning becoming a natural punctuation that tore through the gloom.

In the middle of this strange ecosystem ruled a single person. He wasn’t a king in the proper sense, but rather a leader without an official title, impossible to ignore. People knew him, and though some disagreed with how quickly he had risen to power, no one was brave enough—nor foolish enough—to challenge him.

At the heart of the city stood a building taller than the rest, coated in black glass. Its façade was pristine and modern, almost out of place among the ruins. And on the top floor, resting behind his desk, signing documents with unhurried precision, sat our so-called ruler.

Sylus was feared. Everyone knew of his feats, of his power. He was an evolutionary Alpha, not rare in itself, but unique because of the level he had reached. People’s evolutions were classified from Type A to E, with Type A being the most powerful. There were only a handful of them in the entire world, and Sylus knew that the only reason his expanding empire hadn’t been targeted by Linkon’s government—or by any other major city in the country—was precisely that.
N109 had become the foundation of Sylus’s empire, and from there his influence had begun to spread across the entire nation. If everything continued as planned, in a few years it would reach other continents with little resistance. Two years earlier, the Hunter Society of Linkon had sent agents to try to take him down. A faint smile tugged at his lips at the memory. The Hunter Society, in his eyes, ranked somewhere between traffic patrols and undertrained auxiliaries: far beneath the military and elite evolutionary agents. Why send pups to do a wolf’s work?

In the end, they all died.
But one of them had caught his attention.

He could still remember the last hunter standing, drenched in blood, barely able to stay upright, yet with a burning defiance in his eyes unlike anything Sylus had ever seen. The boy knew he couldn’t win, but that didn’t stop him from fighting with everything he had. He looked barely seventeen, fragile at first glance… but he was anything but that.

Sylus was old. Very old. Although his appearance barely suggested a man in his early thirties, he had lived for nearly six centuries. Hybrids existed—or had existed—but those still alive were almost as ancient as he was. None, however, shared his lineage. He was the last of his kind, the final dragon hybrid.

He had witnessed more of the world than most civilizations could record. He knew what could hurt him. Class A evolutionists, for example, were almost always pure-element wielders, and those evolutions drew power easily from the world itself. Their abilities were naturally abundant, naturally explosive. They couldn’t kill him, but if several joined forces, they could injure him severely.

Encountering one of them that night had been an unexpected twist.

Deep within his heart resided an ether core, a trait unique to dragonkind. It granted him immortality: a perpetual source of energy the size of a walnut embedded between the chambers of his beating heart. With centuries of discipline, it could bestow peculiar talents. Sylus had learned one of the rarest: the ability to slip into another person’s mind, sift through their most important memories, their desires, their hidden shame—peer into the essence that made them who they were.

So his surprise had been genuine when he discovered that the boy between his fingers was nearly as ancient as he was.

Flashes of a past life flickered before him. A village at the base of a great castle. A timeline Sylus estimated at around three hundred years old. But then, a block. A sealed mind. Many long-lived beings failed to endure the weight of centuries; they cracked under the repetition, the loss, the inevitable decay. They clawed desperately for ways to drown the pain.

This boy had lost someone he loved long ago, and after that, life had ceased to hold meaning for him.

He had attacked Sylus the moment he felt him prying into his mind, and the surprise only grew from there. A burst of light erupted from the hunter’s hands—warm, bright, scorching. Sylus’s eyes shut instinctively, and he released the boy, who collapsed at his feet like a discarded puppet and scrambled away on trembling limbs.

Light sensitivity was a curse of his bloodline. That was the reason he had built his empire in N109. His red eyes struggled in brightness, and someone with that power could become a future nuisance. The boy was blocked, weakened… muted. Whether by the Hunter Society or his own mind was unclear. But that tiny flash of power was nothing compared to what he would become if those seals ever broke.

A living, unstable bomb.

Sylus knew he couldn’t let him go.

His evolution surged instantly. A red mist seeped from his body, crawling across the ground like a living organism. It wrapped around the hunter’s ankles first, preventing escape, then wound its way up his body. His energy drained with every passing second, his strength bleeding away, dragging him toward inevitable unconsciousness.

The boy struggled with the last scraps of his will, but there was no escaping that mist.

“Shh… relax, child. You’ve been a delightful surprise.”
Sylus watched his wide, desperate eyes with quiet satisfaction.
“Now sleep. You don’t have another choice.”

His eyes rolled back and he finally lost consciousness. Sylus laid him gently on the floor and reached for the phone on his desk.

“Luke, Kieran, come here immediately.”

His two subordinates appeared ten seconds later through the shattered doors of the mansion. The attack had carved chaos into every corner of the house. Sylus sighed, already thinking about the repairs.

“At your service, boss.” Luke bowed his head, with Kieran a step behind him. Both were equally efficient, though Luke always took the lead while Kieran stayed one pace back, quiet and alert.

“Take him to one of the basement cells. Lock him up properly and put a suppression collar on him. Then call the cleaning crew. I want all of this spotless by tomorrow night.”

They nodded, lifted the boy’s body, and disappeared down the stairs. Sylus smiled at the thought. He poured himself some whiskey from what remained of his ruined bar, sank into a sofa, and replayed the events in his mind. He had stolen a valuable asset from that mediocre association. He could make use of this.

Two days later, he descended the stairs slowly, immaculate, not a scratch or a hair out of place. His steps were unhurried as he approached the cell. He unlocked the gate and stepped inside, sitting on a chair in front of the boy, who remained kneeling in the farthest corner.

“What’s your name? Don’t lie. You know I can find out if you do.”

The boy’s eyes, a sharp and brilliant blue, met his. There was contempt there, but no intention to attack.

“Xavier.”

He didn’t want to talk. Sylus noticed. He didn’t care.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“Because you’re a lunatic who kidnapped me? Planning to sell me on the market? Omega meat?”

A sharp tongue. Sylus almost laughed. The omega part meant nothing to him.

“Watch how you speak to me, boy. You don’t want to see me angry.”

Xavier held his gaze through the mess of his blond hair, still silent. Good. He understood the order of things.

“You’re here because of your evolution. I find it… interesting. I don’t know what I’ll do with you yet, but one thing is certain: you’re not leaving. Get comfortable. Food will be brought in a few hours, and you’d better eat. I don’t want to have to hurt you. Understood?”

He scoffed and looked away. Sylus exhaled a thin thread of amusement. Two could play.

With a small gesture, he used his evolution to grip Xavier’s jaw, forcing his face back toward him.

“When I speak to you, you answer. I don’t like being ignored.”

He squeezed just enough. Xavier let out a faint sound, barely a whimper. Anyone else would have missed it. Sylus never did.

“Good. We understand each other.”

He stood and headed toward the stairs, sending a message to have food prepared for their new guest.

Days went by, and the boy remained broken—more than Sylus had expected. Through the security cameras he watched him for two weeks. A hollow shell breathing. Every time Sylus descended to see him, he found the same look in Xavier’s eyes: a quiet, desperate wish to be put out of his misery. But that only confirmed his suspicion. The boy could be rebuilt, shaped in Sylus’s own way. Though blocked, his power could be enormous. Killing him would be a waste.

The creak of the cell gate woke him. Sylus had ordered a bed installed in the corner where Xavier always slept. The boy lifted his gaze, still fogged with exhaustion.

“I have a proposal for you.”

“You say that as if I had a choice.”

Touché.

“I’ve seen what you are. The years you carry. And I’ve also seen how you’re blocking your past…”

Sylus paused, letting his words linger between them. Xavier watched him with wary eyes.

“But I’ve also seen the weight you carry. And I can take that pain away, without leaving a trace. Unlike that association you belong to.”

“And what do you want in return? You don’t expect me to believe this is some noble gesture.”
He pointed at the suppression collar around his neck, this one completely smothering his evolution.

“If those dogs you work for ever grow brave enough to attack me, you will fight at my side.”

Xavier laughed, then looked up with venom simmering in his bright eyes.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you’re already mine.”

A red mist seeped from Sylus’s body, crawling across the floor. Xavier tried to back away, but there was nowhere left to run. The evolution wrapped around him like a carmine fog. Panic surged first, then silence. A serenity he hadn’t felt in centuries washed through him as painful memories dissolved one by one, erased as if they had never existed.

Sylus knew exactly what he was doing when he erased the boy’s memories. He only removed the ones that were unbearable. He didn’t want an empty shell. He left the memories of the association, of their mental conditioning. He wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t uproot a seed that could grow into resentment. Xavier’s hatred toward his former superiors would make him easier to shape. Now Xavier believed himself to be the age he appeared, behaved like a seventeen-year-old. He remembered the attack on Sylus, his capture, but his resentment toward his old commanders would now bloom unchecked. Sylus had whispered into his mind the idea that they had abandoned him, discarded him like a pawn for failing a mission. The only source of comfort he had left was now his captor.

But it wasn’t enough. Sylus needed him dependent. Entirely. He noticed the boy responded to affection in unexpected ways. No one had ever cared for him, and in isolation he reacted almost hungrily to attention. Sylus moved him out of the basement, into a room on the mansion’s first floor, though he still wasn’t allowed to leave without supervision. Xavier’s rebellious moments did surface, but they were brief. Sylus couldn’t trust him with knives or anything sharp; he had already tried to attack him once. A single slap had been enough to put him in his place.

After that, Sylus began feeding him by hand. Despite the boy’s resentment and every contrary instinct, some part of his omega nature had begun to crave that disguised tenderness. It wasn’t surprising. Centuries alone had driven Sylus’s inner alpha half-feral. Dragons were creatures of kin, of clans, not meant to live cursed by solitude like he had. Against his better judgment, he began to care for the boy. He knew he would grow attached. His plan had always been to fold Xavier into his pack, but not like this. Not with this strange paternal warmth digging roots into him every time he visited.

The breaking point came one day, for both of them.

Sylus had left because a group of hunters had crossed the city border. He had been drowning in paperwork and the tedious bureaucracy of his empire. The idea of venting his frustration in bloodshed sounded almost refreshing. He left Luke and Kieran in charge, but in the heat of battle he lost track of time. And someone took advantage of that back at his base.

“If he thinks I’m going to sit still while he keeps messing with my head, he’s wrong,” Xavier muttered through clenched teeth. He lifted a loose panel from the floor of his room. Inside, he had carved out a small hiding place where he kept things—things he suspected he would need eventually.

Sylus hadn’t lied. He had taken away the centuries-old pain Xavier carried. Xavier could finally breathe, finally imagine a life of his own. He wouldn’t go back to the association; they had abandoned him. During his weeks of captivity, he had visited the library, read about faraway countries that didn’t enforce archaic omega laws. He didn’t know what Sylus was planning, but he wasn’t going to stay and find out. Not when the man was still playing with his mind, confusing him, making him feel warm things that were nothing but false illusions. Everyone had used him. Why should Sylus be different?

He pulled out a small knife he’d stolen during a moment of distraction from the twins. He lifted it to the suppression collar, unscrewing the tiny screws that held the device shut. He had been working on it for days. Now he was close.

With a few more minutes of careful effort, the last screw fell to the floor. He exhaled, bracing himself for the pain. In theory, a sharp tug should split the collar in half. But forcing it off would hurt. The collar wasn’t designed to be removed this way.

He grabbed a bedsheet, bit down on it, and counted to three.

He pulled with all his strength.

The collar resisted, then snapped apart. The sharp metal edges sliced into the sides of his neck as it broke open. Xavier screamed into the cloth, the muffled sound swallowed by the room. The collar clattered onto the carpet, followed by drops of blood. He pressed his hands to his neck. One cut was deep. It didn’t matter. He was free.

He tested his evolution. Flecks of light flickered around his fingers. Weak still, but it was returning.

He tied a scarf from the wardrobe around his neck to cover the wounds. Then he approached the window. First floor. He could climb down the thick vines running along the outer wall, cross the yard, climb onto the garden shed, and from there leap beyond the perimeter. He’d survive. He always had.

He slammed his elbow into the glass, shattering it. Before escaping, he needed a distraction. He focused, channeled his evolution, and overloaded the mansion’s power generator. Lights inside exploded in a chain of sparks. He heard the twins curse and rush toward the basement.

Good. That would buy him time. He had already timed the guards’ patrols. He had exactly three minutes to cross the garden.

He waited for the guard to round the corner—

Then he ran.

Driving back, Sylus felt a bad premonition. Beneath his skin, the Dragon scales hidden under his human form prickled like raised hair. He touched the back of his neck where the sensation was strongest and pressed down on the accelerator. He needed to reach the mansion.

When he arrived at the hill where his mansion stood, his knuckles tightened at the sight of every window in darkness. He didn’t even bother closing the car door after passing through the front gate. He got out and entered, slamming the door. Inside, he was greeted by hundreds of shattered lightbulb fragments. They had exploded. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew exactly who caused it.

He rushed up the stairs and opened Xavier’s bedroom door with the key hanging from his necklace. Inside, only emptiness greeted him, not the slightly irritated look of those sky-blue eyes he had grown used to. The broken window revealed the escape route, but what shocked him most was the broken collar on the floor. When he picked it up, he felt something sticky. With a snap of his fingers, his evolution flared to life. It wasn’t much, but enough to light the room in red hues. On the floor, splatters of blood stained the carpet and the collar.

Sylus exhaled, a puff of smoke leaving his nose, fueled by the anger rising in him. If he were in his Dragon form, he would easily be spitting fire right now. He had tried to be patient, to be kind, but apparently that hadn’t worked. His inner Alpha churned restlessly, enraged by Xavier’s actions and itching to punish him. To his Alpha, Xavier was still a pup who needed correction. He had disobeyed him, disrespected him, and Sylus would not allow that to continue. But he was worried too, because outside was no place for an omega. An unmarked omega. His fangs grew as he imagined other alphas touching him, hurting him.

He went downstairs with sharpened claws. His body never shifted without his consent; he had control over all his forms, human, hybrid, and Dragon. But now his nails and fangs seemed to bloom without permission. When he reached the living room, the twins were coming out of the hallway that led to the basement. At the sight of him, they froze, knowing they had made a mistake.

“Do you know what happened?”

After a moment, Luke spoke before his brother could.

“The generator overloaded, and we went down to—”

“Boys, remind me what evolution Xavier has?” His voice sounded terrifying. He knew it. Even though he spoke calmly, dragon growls wove through every word, threatening to break free. The twins exchanged a quick glance before cursing in unison.

“Shit.”

“Notify the patrols. Everyone stays on alert and searches for him. I want him back in no more than one hour or I’ll start killing people. A staff change wouldn’t hurt.”

Both twins went rigid like statues.

“As for you two, don’t be surprised when you see a significant reduction in this month’s pay. Go prepare the infirmary. He’s injured and will need medical attention as soon as I find him.”

They vanished in seconds, as if they had never been there. Sylus left the house and descended the steps of the main entrance. Black SUVs sped out through the gate, scattering through the streets. A familiar weight landed on his left shoulder.

“Be my eyes in the sky. I want you to find him and tell me.” The raven looked at him with glowing red eyes. “Bring him back to me, Mephisto.” With nothing more than a harsh caw, the raven took flight, disappearing into the darkness of the night. Sylus took out his phone and opened the app he had designed, showing him what Mephisto saw from above in real time.

“You’ve been very bad, pup. Very bad.”

Chapter Text

Xavier ran through the dark streets of Zone N109. The streets were nearly empty, though a few people glanced at him with curiosity as he passed. He tried to slow down; someone sprinting at full speed drew far too much attention. It had been thirty minutes since he escaped. He should be farther by now.

He scanned for an alley, anywhere to slip into. He needed to get off the main streets. They had to be searching for him already. He had to move carefully.

After a moment he spotted a dark alley, tucked away from the flow of people. At least he could rest there. He had seen black vans racing past at dangerous speed, and he knew exactly whose men they were. No one in this place owned cars like that except Sylus.

He crossed the street and slipped into the alley, hiding behind a large trash container. Here he’d be out of sight while he caught his breath. He leaned his head back against the wall, only to choke on a low groan when pain shot through his neck. The wound was hurting more than he expected. He touched the scarf, and his stomach tightened when he saw the blood had soaked through all the layers of fabric. No wonder he felt so drained. Blood loss would slow him down faster than anything.

He pulled a small compass from his pocket. He had stolen it from Kieran one night when the twins came in to bring his hygiene supplies. He’d snatched it from the alpha’s pocket before he noticed and hid it under the loose floorboard until today. He knew it would come in handy.

He knew Linkon was east from where he stood. He had been running in that direction; he wasn’t foolish enough to run in circles. He needed to steal a car and get out. If he could just reach his apartment, grab his documents and whatever mattered, he could leave the country altogether.

Xavier needed to get up and keep going, but exhaustion pressed on him like a weight tied to his bones. Still, he couldn’t give up. He would rather die out here than go back to that gilded prison. He braced himself against the wall and pushed to his feet. He needed to find somewhere safer to sleep, just for an hour, just enough to stop the shaking in his muscles. The wound on his neck was catching up to him, draining him with every heartbeat.

He had just started moving again when a door swung open behind him. Laughter. Heavy footsteps. He ducked behind the container again, but he knew he wouldn’t stay hidden for long. He wasn’t wearing any scent patches, Sylus hated them. Ever since capturing him, Sylus had said he was never using them again. The alpha liked smelling him, and right now, Xavier was bleeding, and blood was impossible to hide. It hung in the air, thick and sweet.

He gripped the stolen knife tighter. Funny. His only weapon was a kitchen knife.

“Hey, do you smell that? Smells like… blood.”

“Everything smells like that here. What’re you talking about?”

“Yeah, yeah, but this blood smells… sweeter. You know what I mean.”

Silence fell so hard it rang in Xavier’s ears.

They knew. Sweet blood meant omega.

Seconds. That’s all he had left.

He felt it then, a stare that crawled down his spine. Someone unseen watching him. Eyes he couldn’t locate, but could feel as if they pressed into his skin.

“Well, look what we got here.”
Two alphas stepped into view, reeking of alcohol, staring at him like he was prey. In this part of town, maybe he was.

“Today’s our lucky day, huh? Look at this pretty thing.”
One reached for him. Xavier slashed first, slicing the man’s hand. He wasn’t going down without a fight. Cutting off his fingers would’ve been a wonderful bonus.

The alpha roared in fury, while the other burst into laughter.

“And she’s got claws. This’ll be fun.”
The second alpha moved smarter, faster. He grabbed a fistful of Xavier’s hair and yanked him forward. Xavier struggled, but his vision tilted. Too much blood lost. Too little strength left.

Filthy fingers dug into his cheeks, forcing his face close to their hips. Xavier’s stomach twisted. He knew exactly what they wanted. Tears of frustration stung his eyes. If he weren’t so weakened, he could fight them. He could win.

“That’s it, sweetheart. We’re gonna have a good time.”
“Never had a blond omega before. Can’t wait to taste you.”

“I swear I’ll cut your damn d—”

A punch snapped his head to the side. Blood filled his mouth. His vision went fuzzy, colors blurring together. Sylus had struck him once before, but never like this. That had been a correction, not cruelty. This alpha wanted to hurt him on purpose. And why was he thinking of Sylus right now?

“Not so tough now, are you?”
One held him down while the other unzipped his pants. Xavier turned his face away. He wouldn’t make it easy.

Then something black streaked past like a shard of night. A scream tore through the alley. His scalp was freed as the alpha’s grip vanished. Xavier collapsed to his knees, gasping.

He turned in time to see one of the men clutching his eye, blood pouring between his fingers. The other had drawn a gun and was firing at a bird that dodged the bullets like they were slow-falling leaves.

Under the flickering streetlamp, Xavier saw it clearly. Sleek black feathers like polished obsidian, burning red eyes.

Mephisto.

Xavier’s chill wasn’t from fear.

It was from certainty.

If the raven was here… Sylus couldn’t be far behind.

That cursed bird never strayed from its master.

A sudden weight pressed down on the air, thick enough to choke on. At the end of the alley, the shadows twisted in on themselves, a vortex of red and black energy blooming like a malignant flower. Xavier’s stomach dropped. He knew that energy. He’d felt it in his bones more times than he liked to remember.

Whatever danger the two alphas posed a moment ago was nothing compared to that.

Mephisto shot toward the forming portal, wings slicing through the darkness. A long leg stepped out first, followed by the tall, muscular silhouette that Xavier recognized instantly. Sylus emerged from the vortex as if stepping through a curtain of smoke. With a casual sweep of his hand, the storm of energy vanished. Mephisto perched proudly on his shoulder, claws tight, eyes burning like embers.

“I believe you have something that belongs to me.”
His voice rolled down the alley like distant thunder.

The men paled and dropped their hold on Xavier at once. Hands raised, tremors visible in every movement, they tried to defend themselves.

“Sylus, sir, we didn’t know he was yours. He isn’t marked.”
“Yeah, we thought he was some little whore looking for attention, you know how it is around here—”
He let out a shaky laugh, the kind that begged someone not to kill him.

Sylus’s gaze slid down to Xavier. The red in his eyes was colder than ice. Gone was the warmth he sometimes showed him. This was a predator assessing damage to something he claimed.

His stare snagged on Xavier’s split lip. His expression sharpened, murder blooming in the glow of his eyes.

“You dared put your filthy hands on him.”
Sylus began to walk, each step slow and controlled. Energy flickered around him, red lightning coiling off his skin.
“You dared to mark his body.”
His voice dropped to a low growl. His eyes ignited into a vivid red, and he lifted his hand as his power responded like a wild beast finally freed.
“But worst of all…”
The alphas rose into the air, kicking, screaming, clawing at nothing.
“…you dared try to defile him.”

Their pleas echoed off the walls, pathetic and frantic. Sylus smiled, fangs glinting, an expression made for nightmares.

“You dare beg? You’re worth less than dust.”

His fist clenched.

Bones snapped like dry branches. Xavier flinched. Their bodies bent in impossible ways, joints twisting, ribs caving, as if invisible hands were crushing them from every direction. Blood poured from their mouths. One of them let out a choking gasp before Sylus’s final squeeze silenced everything.

Crack.

The bodies fell like broken sacks of meat, necks snapped, limbs twisted beyond recognition. Xavier turned his gaze away, bile rising in his throat. What had once been two men now looked like a grotesque puzzle dumped on the ground, pieces wrong, shapes ruined.

His face betrayed his shock. His paralysis. His fear.

No human should have that kind of power.
No being should kill with such effortless brutality.

Yet Sylus had done it without breaking a sweat.
He had killed them in one of the most brutal ways Xavier had ever seen, and he’d done it with almost no effort at all.

His leather shoes shone, spotless in the middle of that filthy alley. Xavier didn’t dare look up when they stopped in front of him. He had tried to run, and he had failed. Back face to face with the man he had run away from in the first place. Sylus sighed, as if he were dealing with a boring errand instead of having just brutally killed two men.

“Luke, I found him. Come get us at my location. Quickly.”
He crouched down, looking at Xavier.
“Just look at you. You’re a mess. Happy with your little stunt? All you managed to do was hurt yourself. And I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if Mephisto hadn’t found you so fast.”
Mephisto’s caw sounded like agreement, watching them from the streetlamp at the end of the alley. A car stopped on the road, and Xavier knew they had come to take him back to the mansion.

“Come here.”
Sylus slipped his hands under Xavier’s arms and lifted him as if he weighed nothing at all. Xavier was much shorter than him, barely reaching his chest when standing, but still heavy. Yet with every glimpse of Sylus’s strength, Xavier felt smaller and smaller. The sudden movement scared him, and he clung to the alpha on instinct. Sylus adjusted him on his hip, as if he were a child, and walked toward the car. Xavier held onto his shoulders and hid his face in his neck, embarrassed to be seen like this. They got inside, and once the door closed, the silence hit like a punch.

“Look at me.”
Sylus lifted his face, holding his chin while he examined him.
“I wish they were still alive, just so I could torture them more for what they did to your face.”
Xavier frowned at the words.
Sylus opened a small compartment under the seat. Inside, a tiny cooler. He took out ice, wrapped it in the red handkerchief from his suit, and brought it to Xavier’s lip. Xavier dodged it, pushing against him, trying to get off his lap. Sylus hadn’t expected that and almost dropped him.

“Xavier, behave. You’ve done enough.”

“Stop. Stop playing with me! You think I don’t know what you’re trying to do?”
Sylus’s gaze hardened.
“Yeah? And what exactly am I trying to do?”
“You want to make me believe you care. It’s a lie. You’re manipulating me. You don’t care about anyone but yourself. Don’t pretend you want to take care of me. Hit me! I know you want to!”

In the front seat, Luke silently raised the divider window, blocking off the back of the car. He wanted nothing to do with this conversation.

“I’m sorry you’ve been manipulated your whole life, kid, but I’m not the one doing it. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t do any of this. And I would’ve killed you a long time ago for all the trouble you cause. But here we are.”

The car turned and began climbing the gravel road toward the mansion’s main gates, passing between the iron bars.

“Now you’re going to calm down and behave. We’ll go inside, wash you, and then take care of those wounds. I don’t even want to see what you’ve got under that filthy scarf. Or do you think I haven’t noticed how you keep squirming from the pain?”

“You’re going to take my evolution away again?”
Sylus sighed, as if the answer weighed on him.

“It’s not something I want. But yes, until I can trust you. Until then, you’ll wear a collar.”

Luke opened the door and held it for them. Sylus stepped out, still carrying Xavier, climbed the stairs to the first floor, and turned left down the hallway.

“Wait, my room is on the other side.”

“I don’t know if you remember breaking an entire window when you ran away. It’s nighttime, and no one will come fix it until tomorrow. And winter’s coming. You can’t sleep there. You’d freeze.”

As if answering all his doubts at once, Sylus opened a door at the end of the corridor. Inside, an enormous room welcomed them. A massive bed with red sheets in the center. Leather armchairs near a fireplace. Huge windows looking out at the garden’s pool. Xavier didn’t even know they had a pool. He had never been on this side of the house.

Sylus carried him through a side door that led into the most luxurious bathroom Xavier had ever seen.

Sylus sat him on the toilet lid, took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and turned on the jacuzzi tub, filling it with steaming water.

“Lift your arms.”
Xavier stared at him like he had grown a second head.

“I can bathe myself.”
The omega hiss slipped out before he could stop it, a warning for the alpha to stay away.

Sylus narrowed his eyes at his answer.

“Sweetheart, you’re dragging my patience to its limit. I don’t trust you in your current state. You could faint and drown in the tub. Don’t forget you’re weak from all the blood you lost.”

“That would be fantastic. Then I wouldn’t have to keep seeing your ugly face.”
Xavier knew how childish he sounded. And Sylus was many things, but ugly wasn’t one of them. He was one of the most handsome alphas he had ever seen in his life. Shame he was a psychopath.

The scent of an angry alpha began to fill the bathroom. Xavier knew he had been playing with his limits for a while already. Sylus’s smell was a mix of things: old books, a cup of hot coffee, the scent of burning wood in a fireplace. Together, they formed something warm and comforting. But now, with his anger swelling, that scent was drowned under the smell of a wildfire. Xavier wrinkled his nose at how overwhelming it was.

“You will let me take your clothes off, you will let me bathe you, and you will do as I say, Omega.”
Xavier felt a pull deep in his bones. Sylus had never used his alpha voice on him before. And without inhibitors, Xavier’s body relaxed at the command, letting the alpha undress him. His face felt hot. No alpha had ever seen him naked. Embarrassment crawled all over his skin. Sylus lifted him and placed him into the warm water of the tub. His large frame settled beside it, grabbing a sponge, pouring liquid soap, making foam, and then running it over Xavier’s arms, washing away the street grime still clinging to his skin.

“See? It wasn’t so hard.”
Sylus hummed in approval, a sound meant for Xavier’s omega, telling him he was doing well. Inside, Xavier felt his omega purr in contentment, and he frowned, betrayed by his own instincts.

Sylus reached for the scarf still wrapped around his neck. Xavier tried to move away from the pain.

“Shhh, stay still, omega. Alpha only wants to take care of you.”
Xavier hadn’t felt like this in a long time. He felt strangely calm. The voice, the scent, the presence of Sylus soothed him. It made no sense. He should feel disgust, rejection. Not this creeping warmth of comfort.

A small omega whimper escaped him before he could stop it, and Sylus’s concern sharpened.

“It’ll be over soon. I promise I’ll be quick.”
He removed the scarf, revealing the cuts Xavier had made himself. Xavier shut his eyes to avoid Sylus’s gaze. He knew exactly how it looked. Shame curled in his gut.

Keeping his word, Sylus finished washing him quickly. He washed Xavier’s hair with care, avoiding the wounds, and cleaned the rest of his body with clinical efficiency, not lingering anywhere. Xavier nearly fainted from embarrassment when Sylus washed his intimate parts, but the alpha remained strictly focused, never taking advantage. He wrapped Xavier in a towel and laid him on the bed, then grabbed underwear and a fluffy light-blue pajama from one of the bags.

“I bought these the other day when I passed by a shop. Thought they’d look good on you.”
Wrapped in a huge towel, Xavier looked even smaller, staring at Sylus with those big eyes, like he was trying to solve a very complicated puzzle. Sylus sighed, fighting a smile. He was supposed to be angry. He was angry. But seeing him like this almost made him smile. He looked really cute.

He dressed him quickly and picked him up again. Xavier automatically curled around him, already getting used to being carried by the alpha. Sylus took the elevator down to the infirmary. It was located in the basement, with direct access from the underground garage. He had designed the house himself, shaping it to his lifestyle.

Inside, Kieran had left everything ready. The twins were gone already; they weren’t needed anymore. For now, it was just the two of them and the security patrolling the mansion grounds.

Sylus didn’t need doctors. One of the perks of living so long was learning… everything. He’d lost count of the things he’d studied. Medicine was one of the most useful, especially for patching up the twins when they got hurt. Engineering was another. Mephisto hadn’t been created out of thin air; he had spent months perfecting the raven’s design.

He laid Xavier on the examination bed in the center of the room, lifting his chin to inspect the wounds closely. One looked bad, deep and definitely requiring stitches. The other wasn’t as serious. He’d disinfect it and bandage it. Either way, he’d have to check them daily to make sure they healed properly.

He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, grabbed a pair of latex gloves from one of the drawers beneath the counter, and put them on. Xavier shifted in place, not expecting this turn of events. Sylus took a cotton pad soaked in disinfectant and ran it over Xavier’s wounds, noticing the way he flinched when he touched the most painful area. Sylus made a mental note to get a softer collar, one that wouldn’t damage his skin the way this metal model had.

He turned away, tossing the blood-stained cotton and antiseptic into the trash, then began opening medical supplies on the auxiliary table beside the examination bed. Xavier’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he saw him preparing a syringe, far too large in his opinion.

“What is that?”
The tremor in his voice betrayed his fear as Sylus stepped closer again, just as Xavier began to inch away.

“It’s an anesthetic. The cut on your neck is deep and will need stitches. I have to numb the area so you won’t feel pain when I start closing it.”

“—And why do you have to do it?”

Sylus stopped, the syringe still in his hand. He sighed and smiled at Xavier.
“Don’t you trust me, little bird?”

Xavier looked at him, searching for an excuse, as if he did not want to say the real reason.
“I don’t like injections. I don’t have good memories of them.”

“I understand. But I’m not the Hunters’ Association, nor am I someone who wants to hurt you. You should know that by now.”

After that, Sylus took Xavier’s face and gently turned it to the side, exposing his neck.
“It’s just a small prick.”

“WATCH OUT!”

Sylus turned sharply, his evolution ready in his hand. The syringe slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor, forgotten. Xavier took advantage of the moment, jumped off the gurney, and ran for the door. Just as he was turning into the hallway, a familiar red energy wrapped around him, freezing him midair.

“Stop behaving like a child and sit down so we can finish this!”

“Get away from me with that crap or I’ll shove it up your ass, idiot!”

“My God, that language. Don’t be vulgar!”

The energy dragged him back to his previous spot and held him there.
“Why do you always choose the hard way? You’re so unruly. Look what you’ve done.”

He pointed angrily at the broken syringe and the anesthetic spilled across the floor.
“You know that won’t heal on its own. Your evolution doesn’t work like mine. You know that.”

Sylus sighed as if counting to one hundred. He let out a sharp, high whistle. Suddenly, Mephisto flew in through the door and landed on his shoulder. Sylus grabbed him, ignoring the bird’s indignant squawk, and placed him in Xavier’s lap. Mephisto glared at him, but with a single subtle gesture from Sylus, a slight raise of an eyebrow, he stayed where he was.

“There you go. If you get scared, hug Mephisto.”

Xavier lowered his gaze to the creature in his lap. Animal, machine, beast, whatever it was. Mostly, it was just a crow, if one ignored its red eyes. Its body was covered in gleaming feathers, and in certain areas, the folds of its wings, its chest, its talons, there was metal, like armor. Probably to protect it if someone tried to bring it down from the sky.

Sylus began preparing another injection, occasionally watching Xavier. It was curious. At times, Xavier seemed to drift away, as if his mind dulled. Moments when Sylus was more attentive to him, or gave him things he thought might distract or please him. He had read about it. Some omegas were prone to regressing. Not all of them, but it wasn’t uncommon. As if they returned to childhood, bypassing severe pain or trauma. A defense mechanism their minds created to protect them.

Sylus suspected that was happening to Xavier, though not completely yet. His inner alpha found himself liking the idea. It seemed he had not been wrong in seeing Xavier as a cub. He had noticed it long before Sylus consciously did.

He turned Xavier’s face again and brought the needle closer. When there was no reaction, he injected the sedative quickly. Xavier whimpered in pain, but Sylus immediately released his scent, trying to soothe the omega. In Xavier’s lap, Mephisto puffed himself up like a small parrot, clearly enjoying the attention and petting. Sylus rolled his eyes.

Fifteen minutes later, he was finished. He set the scissors, needles, and thread on the side table, took bandages, and carefully wrapped both wounds. They would heal well and without scars. He had been meticulous with his stitches. Only a faint mark would remain if they continued to be treated properly.

Xavier was still stroking Mephisto, oblivious to everything else. Sylus removed his bloodied gloves and disposed of everything in the biohazard container in the infirmary.

“It’s done. Just like I promised. No pain.”

Sylus stepped closer to Xavier, and before he could move, Xavier reached out his arms, as if asking to be picked up. Sylus was surprised, but he did not show it. Mephisto hopped onto his shoulder as Sylus lifted Xavier again, turned off the infirmary lights, and carried him back to his room.

In the hallway, Mephisto flew off to his resting perch in Sylus’s office, leaving once he realized his job was done. Sylus entered the room, closed the door behind them, laid Xavier on the bed, then sat down and began removing his shoes.

“You know all the problems you caused today, right?” Xavier looked at him beside him, the fog that had been in his eyes was gone, not completely but much less than before. Well, Sylus needed him to be himself in this part. “I've been thinking about how to punish you. I don't want to do it, but ignoring everything isn't the right option either.”

“Punishment?” Xavier looked at him in horror.

“Did you think there would be no consequences for what you did? All actions have consequences, and you should know that.” Xavier didn't speak, but Sylus knew he was listening. “I've tried talking to you, ignoring you, taking away your privileges, but nothing has worked, so I'm going to try less conventional methods, a little more classic.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Sylus took a deep breath. Xavier had noticed that it bothered him when he swore, which only made him want to do it more. “Since you like to behave like a child, I'll punish you like one.”

Xavier looked at him, hoping he wouldn't say what he was about to say. Sylus patted his legs.

“Come here. The sooner we start, the sooner we can go to sleep.” Xavier jumped out of bed as if he had been electrocuted.

“HELL NO!” He grabbed the first thing he saw, which happened to be the metal lamp on the nightstand, and threw it at Sylus's head. The impact was louder than expected, and he ran behind the sofa, grabbing the centerpiece and holding it in his hands, preparing for his next throw.

Sylus narrowed his eyes, wiping the line of blood dripping from his forehead, where a wound had opened. His eyes glowed as if flames were lit behind them, and he stood up as the wound began to close with his evolution.

"I cleaned you up, healed your wounds, prioritized your discomfort above all else, but I see I should have put you over my knee as soon as you got in the car, but I'll fix that now" Sylus lunged at him, dodging the vase that flew past his head and taking Xavier in his arms. He sat back down on the bed, turning the omega over, ignoring his kicks and punches, leaving him face down and immobilizing his arms with one of his hands behind his back.

“You'll regret this, damn it,” Xavier stared at him, screaming with his little omega fangs out.

“That's no way to talk to your elders.” The first blow was sudden, his hand falling heavily on Xavier's buttock. Another blow followed quickly, reigniting their fight. “This is for not obeying me when I give you an order.” Two more blows fell quickly. “Apologize for your behavior.”

“GO TO HELL!”

“I see I'm still too lenient.” Suddenly, Sylus's hand went down Xavier's pajama pants and under his underwear.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? STOP THAT!” The slap of the hand on bare skin was much harder, and Xavier groaned in pain. How could it hurt ten times more like that?

Sylus let out a sound of approval.

“You will never disobey again.” Smack, smack. “You will never run away again, EVER!” Smack, smack. “You will never put yourself in danger again.” Smack, smack.

“OH, STOP, IT HURTS!” Sylus ignored him, continuing with his punishment.

“You will never break things again, especially when I'm trying to heal you.” Snap, snap. “You will never swear again, or I swear I'll wash your mouth out with soap, and you know I keep my promises.” SNAP, SNAP.

Those two slaps were harder, and Xavier screamed. Sylus really hated it when he swore. Sylus looked at his buttocks, red and swollen from the attack. He almost stopped, but Xavier had earned every blow he was receiving.

“You will never hit me again, ever!” Smack, smack. “Have I made myself clear?” Xavier had started crying on his knees. The humiliation and pain were stronger than expected. “Did I make myself clear?” He hit his buttocks, some places beginning to turn purple.

“YES!” Xavier's answer sounded broken due to his crying.

“Apologize for your behavior.” Smack, smack.

“I'm sorry.” Sylus hit him once more, not convinced by his apology.

“What? I can't hear you.”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Daddy!” Xavier continued to cry after after saying that. He had stopped struggling, remaining limp on his knees.

Sylus stood still with his hand raised and his eyes open. He lifted Xavier off his legs after pulling up his pants. Xavier cried when the fabric made contact with his hot skin. He was sitting on Sylus, his face wrinkled with tears and his fangs biting his lips in an attempt to stop his hiccups.

“What did you say?” Sylus asked in a low voice, trying not to scare the omega any more.

“Forgive me, Daddy, I'm sorry.” Sylus' inner alpha roared, releasing his scent to calm Xavier. Sylus pulled him into his arms, stroking his hair and rocking him on his lap.

“Shh, pup, Daddy forgives you, I won't punish you anymore.”

Xavier stained his shirt with tears, wetting it with snot and drool, but Sylus didn't care. That was what he suspected might happen. Xavier could regress to a younger age, apparently, though he didn't yet know how far back. It was something his omega did because of the traumas he had suffered in his life, which had been ignored by his association. No one had cared for him as he needed. But that would not continue. Now he was his puppy, and Sylus would not allow anyone to hurt him ever again.

Present (two years later)

Sylus was sitting in his office. So many things had happened over the past two years, and he found himself remembering the events that had led them to where they were now. That had been the first time Xavier had called him “Daddy”; the last time had been only about twenty minutes ago. He could still remember the horror on Xavier’s face when he woke up sleeping against his chest. He had fallen asleep in Sylus’s arms after crying the night before, and upon remembering what had happened, he had run to his room. Sylus had let him go; he understood that Xavier felt overwhelmed by the recent discovery of his little side. By morning, they had finished fixing his bedroom, so there was no risk in letting him stay there.

After that, it became more and more common to see him slip into regressions. He fought hard against it, causing stress on his body, but Sylus was there at every step. And after almost a year, Xavier had finally begun to understand that Sylus did not want to hurt him. It had been a path full of obstacles and discoveries for both of them, but now things were different. There was no longer resentment or fear in his gaze when he looked at Sylus; now, two years later, there was only love in those light blue eyes.

A tug on his pants pulled him out of his thoughts. He lowered his gaze to where a hand was gripping the fabric, seeking his attention.

Xavier’s eyes looked up at him with annoyance for being ignored. Sylus smiled; some things never changed.

He lifted him up and settled him on his lap. Xavier adjusted himself, getting comfortable against his chest. Sylus was always warm, being a dragon, and Xavier loved that, especially on cold nights like this one. Xavier tried to speak after Sylus tucked him in with his blanket.

“You know I can’t understand you if you don’t take the pacifier out, sweetheart.”

Xavier would regress to about five years old during his episodes, something Sylus had discovered after months of caring for him. And even though he could speak, he liked using a pacifier from time to time. Luke had given him one for his birthday, which he and Kieran had discovered was October 16th after hacking into the hunters’ association database to steal his medical records.

“When are we going home, Daddy?”

Sylus had noticed that Xavier already wanted to go home. Luckily, his work was finished; he only needed to send a few messages to his dock workers. He had created new warehouses at the docks he had spent the last six months restoring, expanding his empire beyond the continent. Lately, things were going well.

“Daddy will send a few messages and then we can go, give me five more minutes.”

Xavier nodded, sleepy-eyed, and curled up tighter against his chest, making himself small as he closed his eyes.

Sylus felt guilty. Xavier should not be there, in his office, waiting for him to finish working. It was no place for a child. He stroked his back with one hand while sending messages with the other, typing quickly on his computer.

Sylus longed for an omega, someone to bond with and build a family. Xavier was his family, but he needed more than what he alone could give him. He needed a mother. During the past year, Sylus had searched relentlessly for an omega for his family. It was difficult; there were few registered ones. Sylus knew many were hidden, living illegally under government radars. He had searched everywhere, but his options were limited by necessity. He needed an evolutive omega. A common omega could not carry his offspring; the pregnancy could kill them. Sylus needed someone strong, someone who could endure his lifestyle, someone worthy of his child.

He sighed, staring through the glass at the city below. He was frustrated, but not worried. He had the money and the means to find that omega. He knew they were out there, blending in among the others.

Sylus adjusted the blanket around Xavier, shielding his body from the icy night wind as he headed toward the elevator to go down to the parking garage and leave for home. He did not want him catching a cold; Xavier was sensitive to changes in weather and tended to get sick more easily.

Sylus could feel it. Something told him it was close, that he would finally find his mate. He had felt it growing stronger over the past month; his alpha was restless, and he felt it too. In recent weeks he had doubled his efforts, setting his subordinates loose on the search. He had thousands of eyes out there, watching, hunting. It was only a matter of time. Just a little longer, and he would have him in his hands.