"So… you two don't like each other? Isn't he the creator?" Elias asked, trying his best to keep his mind from combusting and himself from yelling at the two, not men, in the room.
Victor's hold tightened a fraction, his thumb pressing more firmly at Elias's nape as if to keep him anchored. "'Like' isn't the word," he muttered, eyes never leaving Uno.
Uno's grin curved sharper. "Creator, yes. Liked? Rarely. I gave him purpose; he calls it chains. I gave him eternity; he calls it servitude." His blue eyes flicked toward Elias, glinting like glass catching flame. "Executioner and creator, it's always been an old married couple's quarrel."
"Don't," Victor bit out, the word a low growl in his chest. "Don't drag him into your metaphors."
