Archive of Our Own ^beta

This—whatever this was—had been going on for a while now, way longer than Aventurine cared to admit.

He wasn’t sure what to call it, not really. Friends with benefits? No, that didn’t feel right. Not that there was a shortage of benefits to their arrangement, but that was still only half of the equation. See, they weren’t exactly friends.

Reluctant colleagues, maybe?

The Intelligentsia Guild didn’t bother hiding their distaste for the IPC or their tedious relationship—years of animosity born from dangling research funding over their heads in exchange for cooperation and labor—and Dr. Veritas Ratio was no exception. Veritas also didn’t hide his distaste for idiots, so Aventurine couldn’t help but be a little flattered that they kept ending up here anyway. Alone in each other’s company and halfway to undress.

“Good heavens,” Aventurine purred, punctuated with heavy sarcasm. “Doctor, I’m starting to think you’ve missed me.”

Veritas looked up from where he knelt at the edge of the bed, unimpressed. “Don’t be dense.” 

Right. Because if they weren’t friends, they certainly weren’t lovers, and Aventurine was fine with that. They didn’t have to be anything. It was better that they weren’t.

Preferable, even.

This was an arrangement of pure convenience, much like the arrangement between the Guild and IPC. You scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours, kind of situation. 

“I’m not being dense.” Aventurine leaned back, head tilted in a coy smile, hips lifting for his pants to be yanked off. “It’s a reasonable enough conclusion to draw—you started stripping me before the door was even shut. I mean, honestly, you could barely keep your hands off me, and in the elevator of all places. There are cameras in there, you know? Don’t tell me you’re that pent up. Is it time for your rut already? We aren’t due for another week.”

Veritas stayed uncharacteristically quiet. He didn’t refute the accusation nor did he answer the question, moving to remove Aventurine’s underwear. They came down with a quick tug and all at once, the sweet, sticky scent of arousal blanketed the room. Aventurine was wet and embarrassingly so, leaking from the rosy head of his petite, omega cock; dripping from his empty, aching hole. He feared that everyone in the IPC dorm hall could smell his desperation

And it was hard to play his bluff when his body insisted on betraying him.

As if on cue, Veritas swiped his rim, collecting a fat drop of slick. Aventurine shuddered, shrinking in on himself when Veritas held it up, regarding it as if it were a lab sample. He rubbed it between thumb and forefinger, inspecting the viscous web that it formed. 

“Interesting,” said Veritas. He wiped his finger clean along the length of Aventurine’s shaft, ignoring the way it twitched hopefully. “Your body has provided me with evidence for a very convincing counter-argument. It seems that you’ve missed me.”

Aventurine grit his teeth against the rising heat on his cheeks. “Wishful thinking?”

“Perhaps.”

The admission came so quickly, so casually, and like a strike against his cheek. Aventurine’s eyes blinked rapidly, completely caught off guard when it wasn’t the denial that he’d been expecting; not the typical snappy retort, or the usual exasperated scoff.

Ears full of white-nose, he watched Veritas push his legs apart, lips brushing against the bend of his knee in a wordless command. He obeyed, lifting his legs to rest his calves on Veritas’ shoulders, narrowly dodging the owl ornament adorning his right.

“Perhaps,” Aventurine parroted. “What do you mean by that?”

The silence was unnerving, suspending itself in the air between them, and Aventurine nearly buckled beneath the weight of it when Veritas switched gears and placed a soft kiss against his inner thigh. Another, and then another, all while his hands rubbed up and down the slender length of his leg. By now, Veritas knew exactly how to take him apart, and it wasn’t with a flogger or an open palm—fun as those both tended to be. No, it was the gentleness that always proved to be his undoing.

“Oh, come on, Doctor. Answer me.” He dug his heel into the muscle just beneath Veritas’ shoulder blade. “Did you hope I was out there yearning for you?”

It’d only been two months of fieldwork, give or take—only two months spent with the latest victim of the IPC; only two months of playing nice with delegates, making risky gambles, negotiating terms, sealing deals for Diamond. Two months spent away from headquarters and, subsequently, away from Veritas. No messages, no calls, nothing, not even in a professional capacity; not even when Veritas sent him links to various studies and academic papers he thought Aventurine might find interesting. And if he did find them interesting, that was his business and Veritas would remain none the wiser.

The silence persisted, loudly.

“Or…were you yearning for me?” Aventurine asked. It was meant to be a snide remark, but the lilt in his voice edged a smidge too close to hopeful, sounded a little too much like pleading.

Nothing.

Not until the grip on his waist tightened and he was yanked to the edge of the bed. His head hit the mattress with a soft thud, eyes flying open to stare up at the ceiling, and suddenly the mouth pressed to the inside of his thigh was a lot less gentle. Veritas kissed him with teeth.

“You were, weren’t you?” Aventurine’s next breath was a bitter hiss. His next laugh was hollow. “Oh, now that’s funny. I didn’t know you were so romantic!”

Because Veritas wasn’t—at least, not towards him. 

An unpleasant memory bubbled its way to the surface, forcing shame and guilt to twist in Aventurine’s chest like writhing snakes. Two months hadn’t been long enough to squash the humiliation and he still remembered their last encounter vividly. How he had nipped at Veritas’ neck with his blunt teeth, bared his own throat, and begged to be knotted—to be claimed.

And he remembered how Veritas pulled away, stricken with horror when he realized what was being asked of him; how the strong scent of arousal had shifted into fear and confusion.

Suppressants kept the need to breed at bay, but they were never strong enough to curb the latent desire to mate . Still, in all their trysts, Veritas had never once tried to knot him, even at the lustful peaks of their overlapping cycles. And there was still no mark on Aventurine’s neck, save for a painful brand seared into his flesh like braille years prior. A mark of ownership, not love, and a past he couldn’t seem to shake.

An idiot. Veritas was right—he was an idiot.

So, what was all of this then? Mockery. Another display reminding him that this was all he was good for. A tight hole good for fucking. A broken soul too mangled to mate.

His thoughts were clouding over, brewing a storm of rage, pain, and jealousy. All of the things he typically kept hidden when he wasn’t so stripped and laid bare. The voice in his head grew louder and louder in the silence, whispering vile, shapeless accusations.

Loser, gambler, pointless, ███ █████ loser loser █████████ tainted █████ broken █████ ███ worthless loser loser loser █████████

A gasp ripped from his throat, the length of his cock suddenly encompassed in a warm, wet heat—pulling him back and tethering him to reality. His hand shot between his legs, tangling in dark hair to further ground himself as two fingers pressed against his entrance. They slid in with ease, his body welcoming Veritas with a fresh wave of slick.

Aventurine scrambled to his elbows, full attention on the mouth wrapped around him. He sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh, that’s a dirty trick.” 

Veritas lifted his head up and off, lips glistening. “You’re leaving too soon,” he said, and they both knew that he didn’t mean physically. “Should we stop? Discuss your feelings?”

Oh, Aeons. Veritas sure had a way of making the most genuine concern sound mocking, didn’t he?

“Ugh, no. Just…keep doing what you’re doing, okay?” Aventurine told him, and then told his most practiced lie: “I’m fine.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

“The word?”

“Prohibere,” Aventurine said, eyes rolling. As if he could forget. That singular word still rang in his ears from the last heat they spent together when Veritas had uttered it in a quiet panic before disappearing completely. “See? Don’t worry, Doctor. I’ll pull the emergency lever if I need to.”

Veritas hummed, seemingly content with this answer; seemingly unaware of the way Aventurine’s gut twisted with the memory. His eyes stayed dark, hungry, but his glare was nothing short of a reminder tickling against Aventurine’s skin like the sharp edge of a blade, telling him to hush up now and be good.

Aventurine dropped back to the mattress, whining when those dexterous fingers curved into him just right. His reward for behaving. 

Because this was the true nature of their relationship: Mutually assured satisfaction, if not destruction.

They weren’t friends. They weren’t mates . They were barely even co-workers. They were two souls who found each other attractive enough to sate the monthly needs of their secondary gender.

And they were something else. A dynamic he couldn’t voice for fear of losing it.

Because, time and time again, hidden away in an ICP respite dorm, Aventurine would relinquish his control, forfeiting it all to the only Alpha that didn’t trigger a merciless snarl.

Veritas always took care of him; always pressed gentle praise into his skin, whispered against the nape of his neck, and brushed the shell of his ear, all while fucking him hard into the mattress. He made it all so incredibly, mind-numbingly good. Veritas took his brain and shook out the static, stripped him of decision, filed down his claws, and forced away his shield. Aventurine trusted him to do so, even if that trust never left the threshold of whatever room they found themselves in.

No wonder why his wires got crossed.

An exasperated sigh cut through what Aventurine thought was his inner monologue.

“As much as I appreciate the flattery, I do need you to be quiet.”

Aventurine let out a small huff of laughter, ignoring how his stomach flipped with violent embarrassment. “You heard that, huh? How much?”

How much of his hand did he reveal?

“Enough.”

Another empty laugh. “Fantastic.”

“Do you truly trust me?”

“What?”

Veritas made a disgruntled noise, but his fingers kept up with their soft strokes—slower, and less urgent. Aventurine didn’t have to look at him to know the face he was making—frustrated, yet adorable.

“Let me put it in terms you understand, dear gambler. Are you willing to take a bet on me? Do I align in your favor?”

Aventurine slowly lowered the hand covering his eyes, blinking up at the ceiling as he tried to process exactly what was being asked. Because, for the first time since Aventurine had known him, the great Dr. Veritas Ratio sounded unsure. His stomach flipped again but for a wholly different reason. 

“You’ve got to get better at your gambling metaphors, doc.”

Veritas sighed heavily. “Answer the question.”

It wasn’t a request, but rather a demand—and Aventurine knew better than to disobey here. Not unless he wanted those expert fingers pulled out of him, stilled as they were now. The silence he created felt heavy with suspense, a thread of expectation weaved between them so thin, that they both knew it could snap at any moment.

“Yes,” said Aventurine quietly, truthfully. 

Even now. Even after being left mid-heat to fuck himself with his fingers, pretending like the warm dampness on his cheeks came purely from sexual frustration and not the pain of being rejected by his chosen Alpha—by Veritas, specifically.

He trusted him, no matter how much he wished that he didn’t. 

“Good. Quiet then.”

And that was that. Recess was over.

Veritas shifted and stood, still buried to the knuckles. The mattress dipped with his weight and Aventurine spread his legs, scooting back toward the headboard to properly accommodate his bulk. He twisted his hands into the sheets, jaw clenched and teeth grinding as Veritas took advantage of the new position, pushing his fingers deeper, working him at a maddening pace until he was mewling like a kitten; panting like a dog.

It was good, great even, he loved being taken apart piece by piece by Veritas’ hand—but maybe this was his way of playing it safe. Using his fingers so he didn’t run the risk of Aventurine asking for his knot again.

“Veritas,” Aventurine said with a rush of air from his tight lungs. His hand untangled from the sheets to grip Veritas’ bicep. “More—I need more.” He covered his moan with a laugh. “You know this isn’t enough.”

But it had to be, didn’t it? He had to accept that. 

Veritas’ eyes did a slow drag up his body, brows pinched. He gripped Aventurine’s chin with his free hand, thumb pulling at his bottom lip—and when Aventurine opened his mouth to speak again, two fingers slipped into his mouth to gag him.

“I said…” Veritas pressed hard against Aventurine’s tongue, sliding toward the back of his throat until tears welled in his wide eyes and he choked around Veritas’ knuckles. “Be quiet.”

The command was low, growled between Veritas’ teeth—an Alpha’s command—and Aventurine was helpless but to listen, obscenely drooling around the two fingers fucking into his mouth in tandem with the two between his legs. Veritas watched from above, his eyes dark; his gaze no longer hungry, but ravenous.

It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough. Aventurine’s body burned with want and desire, and it hurt because it wasn’t enough.

Through the hot tears he saw nothing but Veritas, the rest of the world edged out like a vignette. The scent of stone, old books, and clove, filled his nose on every inhale; warm like a hearth burning in an old library. It calmed his beating heart, all while making it yearn for more; subdued him, but didn’t sate him. His head clouded again, fuzzy and soft and unlike before.

Not enough, not ██████ ███ enough ███ mate m██████ mate ███ Alpha ma███ ██████ mate mate mate m██████

█ ████ ███

Veritas leaned in, pressed his nose to Aventurine’s throat, and inhaled with a stuttering breath. Rubbed against his neck. Scented him.

And when lips brushed against the shell of his ear, Veritas whispered, “Beg.”

Aventurine felt his eyes roll back, choking out a moan. His back arched, body spasming and clenching down around the fingers pressed deep inside him. A fresh wave of slick pulsed around them, soaking Veritas’ hand as he came, whining around the fingers still stuffed in his mouth.

“I can’t,” Aventurine tried to say, words nothing but an unintelligible mess. Chest heaving, he grabbed at Veritas’ bicep, digging his nails into the hard muscle. “Hhhngh—!”

“Ah, I see,” Veritas said breathlessly as if he understood. “Your body did the begging for you. How intuitive it is—magnificent.”

Aventurine whined under the praise, sucking on the fingers still in his mouth while the ones between his legs lazily thrust in and out, milking out the last of his orgasm. His eyes glazed over, vision unfocused but still trained on Veritas’ familiar face. It calmed him, soothed him like a gentle hand, and the voice inside his head repeated a hysteric mantra of mate, my mate, my mate, mine, my mate, mine mine mine.

He wasn’t lucid enough to be horrified, but somewhere in the bubblegum haze of post-orgasm bliss, he knew exactly what these were.

Pure, unadulterated heat thoughts.

A warm pool of slick formed between his thighs when Veritas pulled away, leaking sticky warmth down his legs. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever been this wet before, but the low thrum of temporary relief made it hard to feel embarrassed by it, even when his hole pathetically clenched around nothing. The fingers in his mouth were the next to go and he chased them with a disappointed whimper.

Aventurine tilted his head, heavy on his shoulders, to look down the length of his body. Positioned between his knees, Veritas fumbled with his pants, pulling the soft material down to free himself and…

Oh.

Even in a heat stupor, Aventurine understood why Veritas had insisted on using his fingers. Because at the base of his cock was the reddened, impressive swell of his knot forming.

Aventurine’s eyes widened, his mouth going dry. The last remnants of his sanity depleted with the sight. His last bit of consciousness was consumed. He opened his legs, hips canting upward, and presented himself. 

Mine, mine, mine, the voice kept repeating. My Alpha.

Veritas’ pupils expanded, inky black nearly swallowing them whole. Whatever was happening, it was obvious that he felt it too. His hands, wet with both spit and slick, gripped Aventurine’s hips and effortlessly tugged him forward. Lined up and then hesitated.

“Please,” Aventurine whined, a different cadence from his usual teasing purr. “My—”

That was all he could get out; that single hint of possession and Veritas was slamming home with a low growl, knot already knocking against Aventurine’s rim. He’d felt it before, just about every time they’d fucked in the past, and he’d entertained countless fantasies on what it might be like to have it inside. Fantasies that he’d always kept to himself, right up until he didn’t. Aventurine had told himself he wouldn’t succumb to them ever again.

Too bad that Aventurine was long gone, replaced with his needy, desperate inner omega.

Veritas moved with calculated, expert precision as he always did, perfecting the exact angle needed to hit that magic spot inside Aventurine, the one that made him stupid. It was good, it was always good, but this time was different. This time, each thrust had him burning with a slight stretch as Veritas’ knot attempted to bully its way inside. Each time it got a little closer.

Almost. Almost.

Above him, Veritas grunted between his labored breaths. His jaw ticked, clenched tightly. His lips curled into a snarl, exposing sharp canines. Each thrust was faster and harder than the last, filling the room with lewd, wet slaps of skin. Veritas fell over him, hips never ceasing in their relentless pace, and slid a hand beneath Aventurine’s head, angling him how he saw fit.

They met with a clash of hungry teeth.

Aventurine submitted, opening up with a long, drawn-out moan. His mouth went slack, blunt nails clawing at Veritas’ back when his tongue slipped inside. They rarely kissed, so Aventurine planned to savor it, mewling into Veritas’ mouth, rolling his hips to meet him thrust for thrust. Even after two intense climaxes, his body was already climbing to a third. 

Veritas broke the kiss, leaning back to curl an arm beneath Aventurine’s left leg, hiking it up and spreading him open. Fucked him deeper. Harder. Faster.

Aventurine keened.

There wasn’t a thought left in his head that didn’t revolve around the Alpha above him; could barely remember Veritas’ name, only His and Alpha. He tried to black out the rest, the thoughts that cried for his heat-induced desires to be fulfilled; the ones that had ended their hook-up so abruptly the last time. 

████ knot kn███ bre█d ████ mark ████ clai█ ███ ████████

“Do you think you can take it?” Veritas asked suddenly. He pressed as deep as his knot allowed, grinding it against Aventurine’s well-fucked hole. “Was your body made for mine, dear gambler?”

All prior restraints vanished.

I want to be yours, Aventurine wanted to say, but couldn't. I’ve always wanted to be yours. You’re the only person that’s seen the good in me—believed in me. I thought I was okay with staying in the shadows, with the meaningless monthly hook-ups. I would have you in any capacity, even when it hurts.

I’m an idiot for you, Veritas Ratio.

█ ████ ███

“Yes,” Aventurine gasped instead. His head thrashed to the side, exposing his neck, his heat-scent rolling off him. An invitation. “Yes, yours, please,” he begged, words short and simple in his current state. “Knot me.” He grabbed any part of Veritas he could reach, holding on for dear life, terrified to endure another rejection. “Knot me, take me, take me.”

Veritas growled, low and guttural, and with one brutal snap of his hips, pushed his knot through the threshold of Aventurine’s yielding body, punching out a shrill cry from the center of Aventurine’s chest. He barely had time to register the stretch before teeth were sinking into him, puncturing the delicate skin with a mating bite.

“Hhhh—!” Aventurine pressed himself against the mattress, teeth clenching as the trickle of blood down his clavicle matched the new wave of slick between his thighs. He felt a pulse deep inside him, Veritas’ cock throbbing in the tight heat of his body, filling him up until it leaked out.

Below the waist, Veritas’ knot locked them together. At the juncture of Aventurine’s neck, Veritas’ teeth did the same. Aventurine could do nothing but writhe and whine beneath him, his hands slipping on sweat-slick skin as he tried to grab on. The haze started to clear, his consciousness began to fade back. Reality began to set in.

Veritas had knotted and claimed him. By all biological accounts, they were now mates.

Aventurine turned his head, lips brushing against Veritas’ neck as he quietly lapped at the fresh bite mark. His teeth weren’t as sharp, but he tried anyway, pulling at Veritas’ collar and fitting his mouth over his scent gland, biting down with his blunt teeth. Veritas tensed and a small and stuttering whine brushed softly against Aventurine’s skin as he made his claim.

Mine, his retreating omega-voice said before it faded into obscurity and Aventurine was left with clarity and his usual consciousness. Alert and mildly obnoxious.

“So, can I speak now?” he asked. 

“No,” Veritas answered, mumbling into his neck. A hand stroked down Aventurine’s side. “I want you to rest.”

Oh, that voice had a new, shiny, compelling layer to it.

Aventurine felt his eyes grow heavy, the aftermath of a hard fucking and three consecutive orgasms taking its toll. It had absolutely nothing to do with Veritas’ deep Alpha tone—though, it did soothe the rising anxiety in his chest.

“And you?” he asked.

“I’ll be here.”

“Not like you can really go anywhere.” Aventurine wiggled his hips to prove his point, wincing when Veritas’ knot shifted inside him.

The hand on his waist squeezed a warning.

“Aventurine,” Veritas said, his voice drowsy with exhaustion. “We have approximately thirty-six minutes left before I can safely extract myself from your body without causing damage—and need I remind you of our meeting with your higher-up in an hour?”

“Doctor,” Aventurine purred. “Has anyone ever told you that your pillow talk is impeccable?”

“Rest,” Veritas said again, and he pressed his mouth to the mate-mark, the air around them filling with a calm, relaxing scent.

Stone. Old books. Clove.

Aventurine sighed fondly and succumbed to the request, letting sleep take him beneath the comforting weight of his Alpha, his mate. Veritas Ratio.

Later, they woke to a hysterical call from Topaz.

They’d missed the initial meeting and now Diamond was requesting them personally. Which never boded well, but Aventurine had a hard time caring when his body burned in all the right places.

They hadn’t brought it up yet—had only enough time to untangle their limbs and unpuzzle their bodies, wiping down with the sheets before scrambling to get dressed, muttering grievances about their careless oversleeping. The reality of this situation loomed over them, a throbbing between Aventurine’s legs and the juncture of his neck. Even after the hasty clean-up, his thighs still felt sticky and wet.

Aventurine fastened his bracelet back on his wrist. “So. What made you change your mind?”

Veritas paused in righting his golden laurel hairpin. “Pardon?”

“Last time,” Aventurine started, his stomach churning to even think about the last time. “Well, last time you sort of turned tail and fled, Doctor.”

Veritas went quiet, mouth pressing into a stoic line.

A horrible, horrible voice in Aventurine’s head told him exactly why too—he regretted it, it was an accident, it was all to make him compliant. Anxiety, fear, it all rose to the surface, propelling itself into the air between them with his shifting scent.

Veritas looked at him, surprised.

“You think I regret this,” he said, a simple observation. “No, that isn’t it. I’ve told you once already, don’t be dense.”

Aventurine rolled his eyes, but the reassurance did ease the tremor shaking the hand clenched tightly in a fist behind his back. “What is it then? Do you…do you have any idea how it felt to be left there?”

He didn’t mean to say that, but the question came out anyway. Maybe he needed an answer—because if not, the knowledge that his mate initially rejected him would forever live in the back of his mind. 

“Do you have any idea how it felt to be here? For two months.” Veritas turned toward him, taking a careful step forward. “One thousand, four hundred, and sixty hours.” Another step. “Eighty-seven thousand, six hundred minutes.”

A large hand came to rest on Aventurine’s cheek; he turned into it, scenting Veritas’ wrist. “That still doesn’t answer my question. That doesn’t tell me why you left me there when I’d…”

He couldn’t finish it. Despite everything, the shame was still there, coupled with a new guilt. Veritas had been hurting without him—experiencing the same hollow loss that Aventurine had felt. Phantom pain, like a missing limb. Like the space next to him that stayed vacant at night, reserved for a ghost he couldn’t have. 

When Aventurine's eyes finally lifted, they matched Veritas in an intense stare.

“I may have…” Veritas started. His thumb grazed beneath Aventurine’s eye. Whatever he was about to say clearly pained him. “I may have made a miscalculation.”

Aventurine can’t help but laugh, eyes crinkling further at the displeased scrunch of Veritas’ brow. “Oh? How so?”

“You always say such frivolous things—how was I to know you were telling the truth? Especially when everything you do seems custom-tailored to raise my hackles. There was a substantial chance that you were mocking my emotions and I, for lack of a more suitable word, panicked.”

Aventurine stood there blinking, stunned into silence.

Oh.

Veritas trailed his fingers along the curve of Aventurine’s cheek, grazing down his neck to press against the tender mark beneath his clothes. In unison, they sucked in a sharp breath.

The pieces fell into place, one by one. Everything made sense.

“You thought I was teasing you,” Aventurine said slowly, followed by a huff of laughter. “Oh, poor doctor, who’s the idiot now?”

They both were.

Veritas gave a derisive huff, looking away. The high points of his cheekbones dusted pink. “I’m not the gambler that you are, darling.”

Darling—a significant upgrade from gambler.

Aventurine smiled, mirroring Veritas by placing a hand on his neck. His fingers inched below Veritas’ collar to feel the imprint of dull teeth. Unlike the mate-mark left on his neck, this one would fade. The bruises there would last a week, and that was only if it bruised at all. 

An idea struck him.

Carefully, Aventurine removed a ring from his finger. A gold band inlaid with a green-blue gemstone. He took Veritas’ hand, inspecting each of his fingers before sliding it onto his pinky. Even that was a snug fit, but it did fit and that was good enough for now.

“What are you doing?”  

“My mark isn’t permanent,” Aventurine explained, eyes slowly lifting to meet Veritas’ flushed face. “This is my work-around. Genius, right? I know, hold the applause. Now you’ll always have a little piece of me.”

Veritas opened his mouth, only to close it tightly. He held up his hand, inspecting the ring. “Indeed.”

“You asked me something earlier,” Aventurine said, receiving a low hum for an answer. “You asked me if I was willing to take a gamble on you. Well, I'd say that I did.”

Veritas's eyes cut to him now, a slight wave of worry rolling off him. His face remained impassive. “And?”

Smiling, Aventurine slid his hand up Veritas’ neck, snaking around to cradle the back of his head. He used the leverage to rock forward on his tip-toes, pressing their mouths together in a gentle and unrushed kiss. His chest swelled with words like mate, mine, love, mine, my mate, and, for once, he didn’t bother blocking them out. He didn't bother to think about how it was Veritas taking a gamble on him either. Those thoughts stayed buried with his cynicism.

"Simple." Aventurine pulled away but just barely, bright eyes gleaming with something new. “I've won.”