Chapter 10 #2
“Listen.” He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets as they stepped inside the building. Students dotted the corridor around them. “I told you. I’ve never been to college.”
“Don’t worry. You’re going to be all right. You’re with me.” They entered the lecture hall and took a seat by the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Daven sprawled beside him like he owned the entire row, one thigh pressed against Ryneth’s from the moment he sat down.
Ryneth felt stiff as a board as he took in all the other students entering. They looked to be from all over the Velaryn Reach, the five-planet bloc Helion liked to call an alliance and Düren mostly experienced as rule. “And what is it that you study again?”
“Governance, baby.” Daven’s hand slid into the hair at Ryneth’s nape.
Good Light. He was unbearable. Ryneth fisted his hands, annoyed. He felt trapped inside a cage, with nowhere to go. “I told you to stop touching me.”
“And I told you that you’re in my world now, aethera. And that I’m your owner.” Daven greeted a group of girls who giggled at him. “Try to keep that temper under control. Everyone is looking.”
“Then let them see me break your hand,” Ryneth whispered.
Daven laughed, his breath hitting Ryneth’s cheek as he pulled him in too close. “I’d love to see you try. But for now, you sit. You listen. And you stay exactly where I put you.”
Class began with a dry-voiced man introducing himself as Professor Vane before launching into things Ryneth had never even heard of.
This was going to be a long two hours.
Ryneth stared toward the inner courtyard where students lounged in the sunshine. Lucky bastards.
He was about to turn back to the holo screen when a familiar crown of blond curls caught his attention.
Sudden fear dropped like a stone into his stomach.
That guy…
Even without the mask, Ryneth knew him. The same blond curls. The same lazy, vicious way he moved, like hurting people had never once cost him sleep. He’d watched that man laugh while a prisoner was beaten on the shuttle.
He should look away, but he couldn’t. The memory of being locked in that cage was too painful. Of seeing that prisoner beaten…
What the hell was he doing here, walking through an Academy courtyard like he belonged?
The blond man suddenly stopped in the center of the court and turned his head like a turret until his gaze locked onto the window. He was looking directly at Ryneth.
Static thrummed in his veins, drowning out the steady hum that had been threading through him since he’d woken up on Helion.
His multi-slate flashed with an incoming message from an unlisted sender.
Ryneth’s stomach dipped. Who the hell would even be messaging him? He’d barely had the thing on his wrist for an hour.
You look good in Helion colors.
Did they dress you up for me?
I’ll come when it’s time.
His stomach dropped so hard it hurt.
For a moment, the world narrowed. The lecture hall dissolved into white noise and sunlight. His pulse roared in his ears, fingers going numb around the edge of the desk.
He’d barely been on Helion a week, and somehow whoever was behind this already knew what he was wearing. Not just what he was wearing. That he was with Daven. That he was being displayed.
Ryneth stared at the message, reading it once. Twice. Again.
Then he looked up.
The blond man was gone.
Did they dress you up for me?
This had to be some kind of mistake, but somehow it didn’t feel like it.
Daven leaned closer, voice low with satisfaction. “See? Told you. First day and you already look like you belong here.”
“Yeah,” Ryneth muttered.
But for the rest of the lecture, he just sat there, looking but not seeing. His mind was back in the shuttle. Back in the cage.
He kept replaying it in his head, over and over, like he might still find the moment everything had gone wrong.
How he would love to be back in Mara’s kitchen. Just once. To hear her tell him everything was going to be all right.
That he was all right.
And sweet little Tavi with his coughing attacks. Who was taking care of them now?
He glanced at the screen, but the message was still there.
That night, when they’d tormented him inside his cell, the threat hadn’t been theatre after all. Someone out there really meant to claim him.
“Ryneth.”
Ryneth looked up. “Yeah?”
Daven gave him a strange look. “Nothing. Just that class finished ten minutes ago and you haven’t moved since.” He lifted his hand, and Ryneth jerked when he realized he’d been gripping the prince’s fingers tight. “You’ve been squeezing me to death. Are you all right?”
Ryneth forced a smile. “Oh, no. I—I was sleepy.”
“Sleepy, huh? Then let me take you back to bed. Keep you warm and sated.”
Ryneth’s entire body flushed at the thought, but he managed to mutter, “Fuck off.”
Daven laughed at that. “Then stop attacking me with your static or I will have to punish you.”
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to. It’s just…” He let go of Daven’s hand and squeezed his own palms together. They were sweaty. “Difficult study material.” Ryneth looked away, falling apart on the inside as he followed Daven toward the exit.
I’ll come when it’s time.
The words were a death sentence scrolling behind his eyelids.
Instead of going through the door, Daven pushed him against the wall, trapping him with his thick thighs. Tipping up Ryneth’s chin, he forced their eyes to meet. “Don’t bullshit me. What the fuck just happened?”
Daven’s hand twitched toward the slate like he meant to rip it off Ryneth’s wrist and read it himself.
He stopped at the last second, jaw tight, as if forcing himself not to.
If Daven saw that message, he’d either kill someone or lock Ryneth in the penthouse and call it protection. Ryneth didn’t know which was worse.
“Nothing,” Ryneth said.
“Don’t. I saw your face. I saw you looking at that thing. Have you been making friends on it while I looked away?”
Ryneth’s jaw tightened. His pulse was hammering so hard he was sure Daven could feel it through the wall. “I said it’s nothing.”
Daven leaned closer. Their noses almost brushed. “You went pale. Your hand was shaking.”
“So?” Ryneth snapped. “Maybe I’m allowed to have a reaction.”
“To what?”
“To you.” The words came out before he could stop them.
Daven’s eyes darkened.
Ryneth swallowed, then forced himself to hold the stare. “You don’t get to interrogate me every time I blink wrong.”
“You were about to bolt.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
“Maybe I just don’t like being cornered,” Ryneth shot back. “Ever think of that?”
Daven’s grip tightened, but Ryneth didn’t look away. He couldn’t. Not when he carried a secret this big.
“Nothing happened,” he said again, more quietly now. “You’re imagining things.”
Daven studied him. “Try again.”
Ryneth’s temper finally broke. “Nothing, you asshole.”
The word hung between them.
For a second, Ryneth thought he’d gone too far.
Daven’s thumb pressed harder under his chin. “You think I’m the enemy?”
“I think you like acting like one.”
Daven didn’t step back, didn’t release him, but something shifted.
“You don’t get to shut me out,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Not when you’re in my world and I’m the one keeping you upright.”
Ryneth’s stomach flipped at that. “Then maybe stop trying to own me,” he said, breath shaking despite his effort to keep it steady. “I’m not your project.”
Daven’s eyes flicked over his face, searching. “You’re scared.”
Ryneth hated that he was right. “I’m fine.”
Daven held him there a second longer. Then, slowly, he released his chin. “Don’t lie to me again.”
Ryneth straightened, pushing off the wall himself this time. “Then don’t corner me again,” he shot back.
They stared at each other, neither backing down, until footsteps echoed down the corridor.
“Daven.” Vandor, the broad-shouldered Luminary guard who’d hauled Ryneth through half of Helion already, approached with two other guards at his side. “Is everything all right, Ryneth?”
Daven’s mouth hardened. He hated the way Vandor always addressed Ryneth first, like he had some claim to the right.
“Yes, he’s fucking fine,” Daven snarled, his amber eyes never leaving Ryneth’s face. “And you were disrupting our conversation.”
Ryneth snapped his head away, his back hitting the wall with a dull thud that spread pain. He looked at Daven, really looked at him, and saw a stranger.
He couldn’t trust the heat. He couldn’t trust the bed they’d shared or the coffee Daven had brewed.
Every look Daven had given him, every order he’d barked, every hand he’d put on Ryneth’s body turned uglier in his mind. What had felt like hunger now looked too much like ownership.
“Don’t touch me,” Ryneth wheezed.
“Don’t touch him, Daven,” Vandor snapped.
“Shut the fuck up,” Daven replied, stepping forward like he meant to block Vandor out completely. Then he stopped. Just for a second. His eyes flicked over Ryneth’s face, something strange and sharp flashing there before his jaw locked. “Just shut up.”
Vandor wasn’t impressed, turning to Ryneth instead. “Kylix wants to speak with you, Ryneth. It’s important.”
“Why?” The words came out small.
He couldn’t trust anyone. After all, he was just property.
Dressed up.
But for who?
His gaze drifted from Vandor to Daven, and his heart clenched.
Daven stood there watching him, broad and still, like nothing in the world could move him unless he chose it.
He didn’t look like a buyer.
That was the problem.
Daven had taken him from the hospital with a doctor’s approval and a prince’s smile. Whether he’d bought him or not, he was still part of the same machine.
And somehow that felt worse.
What had Ryneth thought anyway? He should have fought harder that night in the cage. He should never have come here.
Maybe he should jump those two hundred floors and be done with it. That seemed easier than being given to a stranger. Or perhaps Daven was his stranger.
“We go now.” Vandor was already moving, the guards falling in beside him.
“Can’t you see he’s upset?” Daven stepped in close again, and it took effort not to lean into the warmth of him.
But no. He couldn’t be trusted. No one could be trusted.
“Back off, Daven.” Ryneth curled his fingers into his palms, his nails drawing blood. He felt snappy, pent-up, afraid. “If Kylix wants to talk to me, I will talk to him. Lead the way, Vandor.”
Ignoring Daven’s nearly childish complaints, he followed the tall guard out of the Academy and toward the waiting hover cars.
Shoving past Daven’s outstretched arm, he climbed into the vehicle, his boots echoing like gunfire on the metal floor. He stared at his wrist, the amber notification fading into the shadows of the car.
He didn’t look at Daven.
He didn’t look at the guards.
For me.
The words wouldn’t leave him alone.
Something was wrong. And somehow, it was already closing in.