Chapter 10
RYNETH
Ryneth opened his eyes to the silver-silk sheets.
He didn’t remember falling asleep. The last thing he recalled was the thick, syrupy heat of the opium. The weight of Daven’s mouth.
He felt better rested than he had in months.
Sitting up, he took in the expansive glass walls. Outside, the city below sprawled in a vertical labyrinth of neon and chrome. Zephyr, Daven had called it.
He turned to the other side of the bed. It was empty, but the silk was rumpled, and the pillow had a shallow dimple where Daven’s head had been.
Daven had slept there. Next to him.
Heat rushed into his face so fast it made him dizzy.
The memory hit in ugly flashes. Daven’s mouth on him.
Daven’s air around him. The way his own body had shaken and given in like it had wanted it.
Shame crawled hot under his skin. Why had he let that happen?
Why had he let a captor touch him like that?
The answer was there too, and that was the worst part. That same low hum under his skin. That same impossible pull whenever Daven came near.
Ryneth had never slept with a man his age. He’d always shared thin mattresses with his younger siblings, protecting them from nightmares and the real dangers of Düren. The Ward wasn’t enough.
His chest tightened at the thought.
Who was taking care of Tavi and the others now that he was gone? Mara, obviously. She always did when life got ugly. That had been the whole point of Helion. He’d come here desperate enough to believe he could find work fast, send credits home, and make the risk worth it.
One year, he had told himself.
Instead, he was here, locked in a prince’s penthouse while his family survived without the money he’d promised to find.
Ryneth pushed off the bed.
He needed to do something. Anything.
Soft music drifted from the direction of the kitchen. Looking around the spacious bedroom, he found a chair with the Academy uniform folded in an orderly pile. Resting on top was a new multi-slate.
When he snapped the device around his wrist, the screen ignited instantly with an amber glow and a message from Daven.
Shower. Get dressed. Then get your ass in the kitchen. I’m preparing coffee and I don’t like to wait, aethera.
Despite the tone, Ryneth felt a pull at the corner of his mouth. Then he caught his reflection in the terrace glass and froze.
He shouldn’t be smiling like this.
He looked toward the bedroom door. The penthouse was massive. If he could find the service lift, or maybe a back exit…
As the thought formed, the multi-slate buzzed against his skin. A new message scrolled across the glass.
Don’t even think about the door, sweetheart. The Luminary guards outside are bored and they’d love a reason to tackle you. Besides, you’d miss the coffee.
Ryneth let out a long, defeated breath, grabbed the pile of clothes and walked toward the heated stone of the bathroom. He would shower. He would put on the uniform. And he would think of a way to get back to Düren.
The shower was…nothing like he’d ever had before. The water was clean and hot, and Ryneth caught himself drinking it as he washed, just because he could. It was a luxury he’d never had.
He scrubbed the scent of opium from his skin, but the violet bite mark on his throat remained.
The fabric of the uniform hugged his shoulders, tapering at the waist in a way that made him look like he belonged in a Luminary’s inner circle rather than a refinery worker.
Daven was leaning against the kitchen island, a glass of dark liquid in one hand and a spatula in the other. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, just a pair of loose silk trousers that sat dangerously low on his hips. When he looked up, his eyes devoured Ryneth until he squirmed.
“Fuck, look at you.” His gaze traveled from Ryneth’s boots up to the trim of his collar. “I knew you’d look good in my colors, but this is going to make me late. I’m supposed to be taking you to a lecture, not pinning you against the counter and reminding you why your legs are still shaking.”
Ryneth felt the heat rush to his face, his irritation clashing with the traitorous spark of pride in his chest. “I just want the coffee, Daven.”
“First thing you’ve said that I agree with. Here.” Daven reached for a ceramic mug and filled it. He didn't hand it over. Instead, he waited for Ryneth to close the distance, then hooked a finger into the silver loop of Ryneth’s Academy cuff, pulling him in until their chests collided.
Daven’s free hand cupped Ryneth’s jaw, his thumb dragging across the lower lip he’d bruised the night before.
“You look like a prince, aethera. A prince who belongs to me.” He leaned in and took his mouth again, deeper this time, kissing him until Ryneth made a sound and grabbed at his wrist. He tasted like coffee.
When Daven finally pulled back, he was grinning, his amber eyes lit like a match. His thumb dragged once more over Ryneth’s wet lower lip. “Drink up. We’ve got an Academy to terrorize, and I want everyone to see the marks I left on your neck. So fucking pretty.”
The Helion Academy looked nothing like the training blocks and state classrooms on Düren.
This was a wall of white stone and glass, where Luminary guards stood like black and gold statues at the security gates. When they approached, they dipped their chins, their eyes tracking Ryneth with a curiosity that made his skin itch.
“Welcome to the Academy.” Daven pointed ahead with lazy confidence, like the entire place belonged to him.
“Main hall’s there. Seminar buildings are on the east side.
Sports complex is just past the inner court.
We have two canteens, one better than the other, and Umbral Park is just beyond the art building. For if ever you want to do a picnic.”
“Of course.” Ryneth pressed his lips together. He could only stare. It didn’t look like a school. It looked like a private city built for people who had never once worried about whether they’d eat that night.
Before Ryneth could step away, Daven closed a hand around his and dragged him along at his side.
“I’m glad we understand each other, aethera.” Daven’s grip tightened. Ryneth tried to wrestle his hand free, but the grip was a vice.
Asshole.
Every time he pulled, Ryneth released static that snapped against Daven’s palm. That should have made Daven flinch, but instead he only grinned. It was infuriating.
“I like the way you look when you’re angry,” he murmured, leaning in close enough that his breath stirred Ryneth’s hair. “It brings color to your face.”
“That’s because you’re holding my hand like I’m five years old,” Ryneth snapped. “People are staring.”
“I doubt they’ve ever seen anyone from Düren before. Are all the boys that pretty over there?”
Ryneth bristled, his cheeks flushing a hot, traitorous pink. Thank Light he was saved from responding as they entered the canteen.
The chatter of hundreds of students died instantly. That was because Daven didn’t just walk into the room. He paraded Ryneth past rows of seats like he wanted everyone looking.
“Moargan,” he called out, pulling Ryneth toward a large table at the center of the canteen. “This is Ryneth.”
Moargan looked up with a lazy, jeweled smile. “There he is. At last. We already came to meet you, but you slept through your own party. Welcome to Helion, Ryneth.”
“Thank you,” Ryneth mumbled, already deciding that this guy freaked him out.
Moargan sniffed the air, smile widening. “No need to be afraid. We won’t eat you.”
“Cut it out,” a lithe, black-haired guy said. His yellow eyes held Ryneth’s. Reaching out a hand, he smiled. “Don’t mind him. The Imperial family is used to behaving like arrogant pricks. My name’s Cyprian. I’m glad to finally meet you.”
“Yeah, I—me too.” Ryneth realized it was true. The guy seemed genuinely nice.
Cyprian smiled. “This is my brother, Mirel”—a small man gave Ryneth a shy wave—“and Helianth, Imperial prince. He’s the nice one of the two,” he added, grinning when Moargan gave him a push, then grabbed his face and devoured his mouth in a bruising kiss that made Ryneth look away at once.
“Welcome to the Academy, Ryneth.” Helianth smiled, then held out a basket with what looked like buns. “Archer made tiganos. Want to try one?”
Ryneth didn’t know who Archer was, but aside from the coffee, they hadn’t had breakfast yet, and that wasn’t great for the nerves. “Um—yes, sure.”
“You must be hungry.” Daven’s thumb brushed Ryneth’s wrist. “I wore him out last night.”
Ryneth’s jaw tightened. Heat crawled up his neck at the memory and he had to keep his hand from seeking out the mark Daven had left on his throat.
“Don’t be shy.” Helianth slid the plate closer. “And don’t let that arrogant ass tell you what you can and can’t do.”
Ryneth hesitated, then reached out and took one.
The first bite stopped him cold. Cinnamon bloomed across his tongue, sharp and warm at once, chased by a sweetness so clean it almost hurt.
The pastry shattered softly between his teeth, light instead of dense, melting into something buttery and rich.
“Good—” he cut himself off, swallowing quickly. “That’s… Light. That’s really good.”
“Right? I remember my first time trying it. Tiganos are a typical delicacy from Helion.” Cyprian snatched two buns away, giving one to Mirel. “And Archer’s are the best. If you’d like, we can organize a breakfast sometime.”
Ryneth hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
If he was still here, that was.
“Well, now you’ve all met him.” Daven’s hand tightened on Ryneth’s shoulder, pulling him up. “Time to go, aethera.”
“But you just arrived!”
“Well, too bad. Ryneth is under my protection.” Daven’s smug expression glanced at the table before it settled on Ryneth. “He’s joining my seminar. Imperial Governance. Come on.”
Ryneth could feel the judging eyes as they left the canteen and headed for the large inner court.