Chapter 17 #2
“It called to me,” Levi replied. “I could sense the yearning within it. The artist most likely is a person who often feels alone and overlooked. He’s used to being there for others and giving of himself, and longs for that type of care and consideration to be returned.
Yes, they took liberties with his cock, but I bet that was a last-minute decision. The true story lies in the rest of it.”
“You got all of that just by looking at it?” Elm’s heart skipped an actual beat.
“Why a rabbit?” Every culture gave a different meaning to the creature, and on many planets, the rabbit wasn’t a native species.
There was no way the alpha would get this right, even if he’d managed to accurately guess the rest.
“The mask shows they wish they were someone else,” Levi stipulated.
“Or perhaps something else. As for why they chose the rabbit out of all creatures, I’ve pondered over this in the past and come to the conclusion that they’re curious in nature, and the artist longs to play a different role than the one they carry in real life.
The rabbit is a swift, but delicate creature.
Clever, yet vulnerable. Soft, yet fierce with tooth and claw.
They stand for fortune and prosperity, but are also associated with being tricksters. ”
“Sounds like the creator is indecisive and doesn’t know what he wants.”
“On the contrary,” he said. “He knows exactly what he desires most. You’re looking at it.”
Elm snorted. “You would think he’s after a man.”
“Not just any man,” Levi corrected. “He isn’t well endowed because the artist was horny.
This is about yearning, remember? About perfection.
” He reached out and traced the statue’s jawline with his thumb.
“This is their version of an ideal mate. Someone who can provide,” he pointed to the moon cake, then to the lantern, “someone who can guide them out of their dark thoughts.”
“Everyone wants someone kind,” Elm replied, trying to play it down, but the alpha clicked his tongue chidingly.
“Is that what you see? I see something different. His expression, his size—and yes, his cock—show a man who is willing to do whatever it takes to get what he wants. Look at his eyes. At the gaze. The moon cake? The lantern? Snares. He’s trying to lure his prey in and get them to let their guard down.
This is the trick. The truth of the Rabbit God.
The artist gave himself away with his title. ”
“I don’t follow.” He really didn’t. Everything else had been so spot on it made his skin buzz, but this… “You make it sound like he wants someone who will manipulate him.”
“No,” Levi said. “He wants someone who will guide him. Someone who can take control and lead him to his desires without having to be asked. Someone who can untangle desires the artist isn’t even aware of himself.
Someone who can make him feel special and safe. Who better to provide that than a god?”
“You’re reaching.” Was he? The problem was, Elm wasn’t so sure.
None of that sounded…unappealing.
Maybe being locked up these past couple of months, not having to worry about anything other than going feral or taking a bullet to the head, had rewired his brain in ways he couldn’t yet comprehend.
The idea of having someone taking care of him.
Of taking the lead and making Elm feel like he was worth something…
He liked it.
“It’s possible. But I doubt it.” Levi sighed wistfully.
“You wanted to know why I didn’t push for a name?
I cut a deal with the gallery owner instead.
Whenever another piece by the artist came into their hands, I would get first dibs.
Too bad that hasn’t happened. The artist all but disappeared.
This may be their only work in existence. ”
“There’s another,” Elm said, freezing as soon as he did. He could feel the alpha’s eyes on him, but refused to look back, not wanting to risk giving himself away more than he already had.
After all of that? There was no way in hell Elm was revealing he was the artist Levi had just so thoroughly picked apart.
“It’s a set,” he continued, wanting to fill the silence before the alpha grew suspicious. “I’ve seen the other one.”
“Where?” Levi’s tone dropped low, intense.
“Kian’s.” His brother was the only one who knew he created under the name Median.
Not even Sky was aware. The final project had been made during after school hours, while Elm had been alone.
He’d gifted the matching statue to him as a parting gift, afraid that after Kian had found his blood family, he’d forget about him.
It was in Kian’s penthouse suite above Club Caelum now, tucked into a corner in some back room. He’d taken care of it, displayed it, but not out in the open the way Levi had.
Not at the front of the house, where everyone could see it.
“Does it look the same?” It was clear the alpha wasn’t pleased to hear his enemy had something he’d been seeking. “Will he sell it?”
Elm debated how much to say, then opted to just go all in. Without seeing it himself, there was no way Levi could guess the second statue had been created in Elm’s own image. Hell, even if he did see it, he probably wouldn’t.
“It’s a little shorter, not by much, and the items in his hands are reversed,” he divulged. “But he isn’t wearing a mask. He doesn’t have a face at all. There isn’t much of anything. No abs or belly button. A smooth bulge between normal sized thighs.”
Elm’s teacher had only wanted to sell the one piece because he considered the second one unfinished.
Elm didn’t.
It looked exactly the way he’d wanted it to.
“But he’s got stature,” the alpha pointed out. “This statue is above average in height. You—”
“I’m average height for a beta,” Elm replied.
“You aren’t a beta anymore.”
Elm glanced away.
“The title?” Levi asked.
“Derivative.” Eighteen-year-old him had felt so clever for that one.
“It can’t be that bad.”
“No, I mean that’s it. The title is Derivative.”
The alpha tipped his head and thought it over, then chuckled. “Cute.”
Elm bristled. “Excuse me?”
“It’s a self-portrait,” he explained. “The one Kian has?” He pointed to the Rabbit God again. “His vision of a perfect mate. And his plain self. He kept the lantern and the moon cake to show his giving nature, but removed all physical features. Does he even have veins? Like this one does?”
“No.”
“What about his ass?”
“…He…has a butt.”
“Two cheeks?”
“Good Light, yes.” Elm felt the tips of his ears heating, even though Levi still didn’t know he was the creator.
“He doesn’t think he’s worthy of the type of mate he desires,” Levi surmised. “He thinks he’s too plain.” He hummed. “I was wrong. The artist isn’t omega. He must be a beta.”
“What’s wrong with being beta?” Elm growled.
“Nothing. Lots of people would prefer it, in fact, but there are many, like you, who are disappointed when they present. They fail to see the safety in average. In blending in to a crowd.”
“Wow, just call me ugly already.”
Levi’s brow furrowed. “When did I indicate average meant unattractive? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. You’re an artist. You should know that.”
“Right. Well—”
“You’re gorgeous, Elm Erskine.” The alpha turned to him and took a single step closer, but Elm was too shocked to register he should move away.
Was that the first time the Leviathan had called him by name? The second?
“Being beta didn’t make you ugly or boring. If you’ve thought less of yourself all these years, you were wrong.”