Chapter 9
DAVEN
“Ihave my orders, Daven.”
“And I’ve already told you what I think of them,” Daven snarled. “Don’t you need to babysit Mirel?”
Vandor didn’t reply. His eyes tracked Ryneth as he crossed the penthouse. Kylix’s lackey was ruining Daven’s moment. He wasn’t going to leave. That much was clear.
The Luminary had waited only because the medics had ordered no questioning until Ryneth could stand without collapsing. Now that he’d been released into Daven’s custody, apparently that mercy had expired.
Fucking Kylix.
“Fine. Have it your way, but I want your presence to be nothing but a shadow. I’ll be the one taking Ryneth to the Academy tomorrow.”
“Agreed.”
“I’m glad we got there eventually,” Daven grumbled, turning his back on the Luminary guard the moment he walked inside his home. “Oh, did you get him his Academy uniform?”
“It’s already in his wardrobe.”
That was too much information. The motherfucker had been inside his house, had made space in his wardrobe for Ryneth. Had touched Ryneth’s new clothes.
The ones Daven had chosen himself.
The thought of Vandor’s hands on Ryneth’s clothes made Daven’s pulse jump.
“I didn’t mean to overstep. I was ordered to make sure Ryneth is all right.” Vandor’s voice stayed flat, as if he could hear Daven’s pulse jump and knew exactly what he was thinking.
Perhaps his thoughts were loud. Everything about him always was. Only his air could quiet him. And now, apparently, Ryneth.
Without turning back to Vandor, he booted his front door shut, his eyes already on Ryneth, who had found the double glass doors and stepped onto the terrace of his 200th-floor penthouse. If he stepped any closer to the edge, Daven would drag him back.
Ryneth didn’t. He just stared up at the sky, as if welcoming the endless stars and the few neighboring planets that were particularly visible tonight.
Daven typed on his multi-slate and the shadows of the penthouse retreated. Soft amber-white bands lit along the ceiling edges, warming the penthouse in a low, golden glow. He didn’t like how right it looked. Ryneth in his space, under his sky, as if he’d always belonged there.
He expected Ryneth to turn around with those same large eyes he’d had when they first entered Daven’s penthouse, but the other man didn’t move, his gaze still fixated on the endless galaxy spread out beyond the glass.
Annoyed, Daven flicked his thumb across the slate again. Low orchestral music filled the silence, the deep hum of it vibrating through the floor beneath their feet.
Finally, Ryneth looked down, and Daven grinned when he saw him squint as cooler light rose from the floorboards and spilled toward the glass.
The glow stretched past the terrace and into the dark beyond, a clean ribbon of light cutting through the black.
Daven stepped closer, watching Ryneth’s reflection sharpen in the glass. “The light follows my command even out there.” He couldn’t help but sound smug. “There is nowhere for the shadows to hide once I decide to see them.”
“That’s… really beautiful.” Ryneth watched the artificial dusk fade into black, then turned back to face him.
“So are you.”
Ryneth stiffened. A flush crept up his neck, stark against the pale cast of his skin. He let out a dismissive huff and looked away, but he couldn’t stop the involuntary twitch of his fingers against the thin fabric at his waist.
Daven tapped the glass once more. The massive terrace windows shifted, dimming to a reflective sheen that turned the outside void into a mirror. “And now I can see every angle of you, aethera. I like the way the light catches your skin here.”
He followed Ryneth as he made his way back inside and staggered at the doors. “Need a hand?”
“I’m not a pet, Daven.” Ryneth snorted, but the sound barely left him before his foot caught at the threshold and his body tipped forward.
Within two steps, Daven caught him and scooped him up against his chest like he weighed nothing, one arm under his knees, the other braced across his back. “Uh-huh. Keep talking like you’re free while I stop you from collapsing on my floor.”
Even worn down from captivity, Ryneth wasn’t small. Only a few inches shorter than Daven, all lean lines and underfed muscle, and still far too light in his arms.
And he was fuming beautifully.
“Now, where were we?”
“Put me down,” Ryneth hissed. He kicked with his feet, but Daven didn’t miss the way Ryneth was breathing hard, clearly tired now that the IV was no longer feeding him fluids.
“Not yet. Let me show you around first. Here’s the kitchen.
” Daven pushed with his boot against a door and marched him through the wide room, not intending to stop here.
“Whatever you need, you take it. Whatever you want, you ask me for. There’s coffee, fruit, a stacked fridge, and fresh tigano delivery every morning.
Next, the bathroom. Heated stone and a pressure-pool for two. ”
“I don’t want your pool,” Ryneth rasped, his head hanging low as he watched the polished tile pass beneath them. “I want to walk. Let me—oof.”
Daven hiked him higher, ignoring the struggle as he turned back into the main corridor. Nothing would take this moment away from him. “Guest suites. Storage. A library you’ll never use. And my study.”
“Come on, drop me now. You know as well as I do that I don’t belong here. I have work lined up.”
“You belong where I put you,” Daven rumbled, carrying him farther down the hall. “Tomorrow, you come with me to the Academy.”
Ryneth twisted hard in his arms. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not.”
Daven tightened his hold when Ryneth kicked again. “Keep fighting me like that and I’ll carry you straight through the front gates in my arms.”
Ryneth glared up at him, breathing harder now. “You’re insane.”
Daven smiled. “That’s not a no.”
“That was absolutely a no.”
“We’ll see how brave you are in the morning.”
Ryneth made a rough, disbelieving sound. “I can’t afford a place like that.”
“You think I’m charging you tuition?” Daven laughed under his breath.
“I didn’t finish more than middle school.”
Daven’s amusement faded. Ryneth said it like he was expecting to be mocked. He hated that. Hated that Ryneth said it like a confession instead of an accusation. Hated more that the Academy had never deserved boys like him in the first place.
Not because Daven cared about schooling. Half the Academy was stuffed with idiots who had tutors to breathe for them. The place had never deserved boys like Ryneth.
“In Düren, places like that are for the elite,” Ryneth muttered. “Not people like us.”
Daven’s grip tightened without permission. Every time Ryneth said something that belonged to Düren instead of Helion, that restless hum under his skin sharpened as he carried him toward the end of the corridor. “Then tomorrow will be educational.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Daven. I’m not one of your rich boys.”
“That,” Daven said softly, tightening his grip on him as he reached the end of the corridor, “is exactly what everyone is about to argue about.”
Ryneth’s heel clipped the edge of a pedestal, nearly sending a decorative piece skidding across the floor. He twisted harder, reckless, kicking, scraping, knocking into anything he could reach.
As they reached the end of the hall, the air grew warmer, the scent of opium thickening with every step. With a forceful shove, Daven opened the final door. “And this”—his grip tightened—“is the only room you actually need to remember.”
Ryneth’s head hung low, but Daven felt him suck in a breath when he saw the massive glass walls and the silver-silk bed.
Daven lowered him onto the mattress.
For one suspended second, Ryneth just stared up at him, dazed and breathing hard, his body sinking into the silver silk. Then he looked past Daven at the sealed glass walls, the low gold light, the distance to the door, and understanding hit.
“No.” He scrambled backward, his heels digging into the silk as he tried to find purchase. “Stay back,” he spat, his voice cracking.
Daven grinned. “Yes.”
He was on him before the light even faded.
He caught Ryneth’s wrists and slammed them into the mattress, pinning him there.
Then he settled his weight between Ryneth’s thighs and pressed him down into the sheets.
He could feel Ryneth’s heart hammering through the thin shirt.
Ryneth bucked hard, trying to throw him off, but Daven didn’t move.
He reached for the golden device on the nightstand. A hiss filled the air. The scent of acacia followed.
“That’s it. Breathe.”
Ryneth inhaled despite himself, his head thrashing side to side as he tried to escape the mist.
Within seconds, his body started to loosen under Daven’s hands. His mouth trembled. His lips parted without permission. The silver of his eyes went wet and unfocused. “What is that?”
“Acacia opium,” Daven murmured. “It’ll loosen you up and make that static of yours a little more needy. Can you feel it yet, aethera?”
Ryneth didn’t answer, but color spread high across his chest and throat. Daven felt the hardening length trapped between them, growing heavier against the silk. “I’m… I’m feeling funny. Everything is moving.”
Daven leaned closer, his breath at Ryneth’s ear, savoring the way the man shivered under his shadow. “Did you have a bed this nice on Düren? Is anyone waiting for you there?”
“Multiple,” Ryneth snarled, but the sound was weak, lacking its earlier bite. His pupils were so blown they were nearly erasing the silver of his irises. “And the rest is none of your business.”
“It is now.” Daven’s hand moved to Ryneth’s jaw, holding him still. “You look good on my silk, aethera. You’re mine. If there was anyone back there, they don’t matter anymore. From now on, you answer to me.”
Silver eyes stayed fixed on Daven as the drug pulled him under.
“I bet they told you how spectacular you were on Düren.” Daven splayed his palm over Ryneth’s chest, feeling the static hum beneath the surface. “I bet they fought over you.”