Gabriel moved first this time—wrist flicking upward, light streaming along his palm like smoke caught in wind. He spun low, trying to catch Damian's balance with a sharp ether snap to the knees, but the Emperor had already read it.
Damian stepped through the spell with bone-deep confidence, absorbed it, and caught Gabriel by the waist before his opponent could reset. In one fluid motion, he twisted them both—one arm circling Gabriel's front, pinning his arms gently but unshakably, the other flattening against his chest as they stopped at the edge of the ring.
The wards shimmered. Cracked. Then went silent.
Gabriel stilled—tense at first, before Damian leaned in, nose brushing deliberately against the curve of his neck, just above the bond mark.
"That is enough," Damian murmured, voice low, breath warm. Inhaling Gabriel's scent with slow, deliberate hunger.
Gabriel didn't move. His breath irregular as the training took a toll on him, but didn't want to show it.
