Bound by the Mark of Lies (BL)-Chapter 419 - 413: I’ve missed him.

Olivier lunged, but Gabriel was already moving.

There was no drawn-out fight, no final desperate plea. The air turned razor-sharp with ether as Gabriel’s hand met Olivier’s chest, fingers splayed across the place where a heart might’ve once beat with anything other than envy. His palm glowed gold, burnished by fury and tethered memory.

The burst of ether that followed was violent, raw, like metal being torn from bone. Olivier convulsed mid-step, his scream caught between teeth and blood, mouth open too wide as the force burned through his body. His soul, already fractured, couldn’t withstand it.

Olivier fell with a wet sound, like something was ripped out of him.

What hit the ground was not a body, not even a corpse. Just remnants. A ruined vessel emptied so completely that even the shard couldn’t pretend anymore.

Gabriel exhaled.

The shard collapsed behind him, disintegrating into dust.

He turned.

Goliath stood by the last remaining column, arms folded lazily, the ever-infuriating half-smile back in place. Dust caught in the dying light around him, casting faint golden halos across his frame.

He raised a hand, fingers flicking once in a loose, impatient wave.

"Go. Now. You’ve done enough."

Gabriel didn’t move at first. His limbs felt too distant. The ether toll still licked under his skin, hollowing muscle, burning bone. And his child, gods, his child, was out there waiting.

Goliath gave an exaggerated sigh and made the motion again, more dramatic this time.

Gabriel’s lips twitched despite himself.

He stepped forward, into the light, and let the shard collapse behind him.

—

Imperial Medical Wing

Three days later.

The pulse monitor blinked once.

Then again. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

A soft beeping, steady and rising, echoed in the sterile quiet of the imperial hospital’s west wing. Dim amber light from the high windows bled across the polished floors, washing Gabriel’s still form in shifting gold and shadow.

His fingers twitched. Barely. Just enough to send a ripple through the web of sensors anchored to his skin.

Damian was already turning before the nurse outside could even speak. The restraints of sleep fell off his shoulders like glass. He didn’t rush, but his footsteps were fast and decisive as he crossed to the bedside.

Gabriel’s brow furrowed. Then his lips parted, breath dragging in like it hurt.

Damian reached him just as his eyes cracked open.

"You’re back," Damian said, softly but without hesitation, his gloved hand catching Gabriel’s, still half-limp, still too cold.

Gabriel’s gaze shifted, cloudy and unfocused, but fixed on him.

"...How long?" he asked, voice rough, the syllables scraped raw. "God, I feel like I was hit by a truck."

"Three days after we talked through the bond." Damian didn’t flinch. "You were in a coma. Your ether signature was fading."

Gabriel blinked slowly, each breath a struggle between confusion and bone-deep exhaustion. He turned his hand slightly, feeling the sharp pull of the signet ring’s runes against his pulse point.

His eyes narrowed.

"You used it."

"You nearly incinerated yourself dismantling Olivier’s shard alone while your body was still healing from labor," Damian replied, his tone far too calm to be anything but dangerously restrained. "Yes. I used it."

Gabriel’s head dropped back against the pillow. "You locked my ether."

"I restrained it," Damian corrected, as if arguing technicalities might soften the insult. "You’ll get it back when you stop trying to martyr yourself in secret."

A long silence followed.

Then Gabriel exhaled through his nose. "You’re going to gloat."

Damian’s mouth twitched. "I’m going to kiss you first."

Gabriel didn’t stop him.

Damian’s lips met his with a firm, aching certainty, warm, dry, and so unbearably human. His hand cupped the back of Gabriel’s neck, fingers threading through short hair still damp with sweat, thumb brushing slowly along the nape where the bond mark pulsed faintly beneath the skin.

Gabriel’s breath hitched from the shock of sensation. It was too much and not enough. His body, still fragile, flinched under the weight of contact, but his mouth moved anyway, answering, opening, and drawing in the taste of the man who had waited.

Their noses brushed. Their foreheads touched. Damian tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss like he needed to remind Gabriel of the body he belonged to, the world he returned to.

Gabriel’s fingers lifted shakily and caught in the front of Damian’s coat. He pulled him closer, just barely, just enough to say, I’m still here. I came back.

When they parted, Damian didn’t move far. Just enough to see him. Just enough to stay in the breath between them.

"I meant what I said," he murmured, voice low and certain. "The runes stay until I remove them. You don’t get to burn for this Empire when you’re already carrying everything else."

Gabriel’s lips curved faintly, dry and sharp.

"I’m going to bite you."

"You’ll have to catch me first," Damian said, eyes glinting. "And right now, you’re still on a drip."

Gabriel tilted his head back against the pillow, watching him through narrowed eyes. "Coward."

"Protector," Damian corrected, brushing his thumb along Gabriel’s jaw again. "Mate and fiancé. You made it legal, remember?"

A beat.

Then, despite himself, Gabriel huffed out a breath that might’ve been a laugh.

"...Fine," he said. "But when I’m back on my feet..."

"You’ll still be restrained."

Gabriel groaned and closed his eyes again. "Gods, I should’ve stayed in the shard."

"Don’t joke about that," Damian said, too quiet to be casual now.

Gabriel didn’t answer at first.

His breathing evened out again, slower, edged in exhaustion. The weight of the hospital bed, the quiet whir of machines, the ghost of ether still coiling faintly under his skin, all pressed in.

He turned his head slightly, just enough to look at Damian without lifting it.

"...Arik?"

Damian blinked, as if the shift in topic caught him off guard, but only for a second. His hand tightened over Gabriel’s.

"He’s fine," he said softly. "Sleeping. Complaining. Demanding to be held by whoever smells like you."

Gabriel’s eyes flickered. "That’s not fair. You smell like me."

"He disagrees. He tried to bite Gregoris."

Gabriel made a faint, incredulous noise that might’ve been amusement or horror. "What?"

Damian smiled, small and crooked. "He’s your son."

"He’s a month old."

"And already selective."

Gabriel exhaled again, this time slower. Deeper. As if that answer, simple as it was, unlocked something he hadn’t realized he’d been bracing against.

"Did you bring him?" he asked, quieter now. The kind of quiet that carried weight.

Damian’s gaze flicked down, then back up. "Not yet. He’s with Julian and Rafael. I didn’t know how you’d wake."

A pause.

"I wanted him to see you when you could actually hold him."

The words settled in the space between them like warm cloth. Gabriel didn’t reply right away, but something in his expression shifted, like a muscle finally releasing, a tension long held loosening behind his ribs.

"...Thank you," he murmured.

Damian leaned closer again, forehead brushing his, his voice a breath against Gabriel’s skin.

"You’ll see him soon."

Gabriel’s hand, still wrapped in Damian’s, gave a faint, answering squeeze. His voice was quieter now, touched with something unguarded and hoarse at the edges.

"Good. Because I missed him more than anything."