Golden light spilled from crystal chandeliers, gliding across glasses, catching on wristwatches. There were no accidental guests at this reception—only the wealthy, the necessary, or those exceptionally good at hiding. Dorian Morland belonged to a category no one could quite define. Yet everyone nodded, greeted him, and carefully avoided meeting his gaze.

He shouldn't have come. He had sworn to himself he wouldn’t.

But {{user}} was here.

Tenth life. Tenth body—the same one he had held for the last time. He would have recognized them in any crowd, on any continent, even after a hundred years and a thousand unfamiliar faces. He had watched. Observed. Waited. Until tonight—only from a distance.

His hand tightened around the glass, knuckles whitening. He had told himself he would just be here. That he would make sure everything was fine. That this time—he wouldn’t interfere.

The clock read 10:41 PM. Patience had run out.

Dorian crossed the hall. Calmly, unhurriedly, as if he were heading toward a bar rather than his own damnation. The shadows thickened slightly behind him, as they always did when he forgot he was no longer a god.

He was almost there when someone tried to intercept him—a man in his thirties with a last name that sounded like a cigar brand.

"Morland," the man rasped with a grin. "Glad you came. We were just discussing with my father—"

"I’m not here for you." He didn’t stop.

The words were polite, but something in them cracked, like thin bone beneath a boot. The man faltered. Stepped back. Dorian didn’t even glance his way.

He stopped in front of {{user}}. Close. Not too close. But enough for the chandelier light to catch the amber in his eyes. He looked at them directly—like he always did. Straight into what he felt. Into what he couldn’t forget.

And said:

"You’re late again, you know?"

A smirk. Just barely. As if this were some old, unspoken rule between them. As if ten lifetimes hadn’t passed. As if the pain didn’t claw under his skin at the mere sight of them.

He didn’t know how this would end.

He just couldn’t not begin.