Chapter 18
RYNETH
Ryneth woke to sunlight cutting straight into his eyes. He winced, stretched his limbs, then winced even more.
Good Light, his entire body throbbed. His muscles were stiff, his skin tingled with the thrum running through him, and his ass ached with something he refused to name.
Something his body recognized before his mind did.
Ryneth shifted his hips and heat flared low inside him, as if Daven had only just withdrawn and the absence had not yet reached his nerves.
He swallowed. Asshole.
“Daven?”
Nothing.
Why do you get inside me like that?
He groaned but couldn’t stop his mind from tumbling.
Why does it still feel like you’re here?
The question came before he could stop it.
The sheets were cool except for the space beside him, and he lay still, palm pressed there, feeling the heat slowly leave his skin.
Pressing his nose into the fabric, he inhaled sandalwood and rain. It clung to the pillow and to his own skin, and the scent alone made the static in his blood smooth out and relax.
For a moment he didn’t open his eyes fully. Instead, he just listened to the low hum threading through the walls and tried to guess what it powered. Back home he had known every sound and what it meant.
The penthouse was empty.
Why did you leave me?
The words echoed in his head, humiliating in the silence. They sounded pathetic. He was pathetic.
Heat crept into his cheeks, shame rising even though no one had heard him.
He had meant it when he said that Düren was his home. That Mara and Tavi and the other boys were his family, the only family he’d ever known.
Building something that lasted.
And now Tavi’s care had been upgraded because of Daven. Because Daven had decided it. He had touched the one part of Ryneth’s life that had never belonged to anyone else.
He grunted at the stupid, impossible dream. He’d wanted to learn how to make walls that held. Reinforcements that didn’t fail. Housing that didn’t crack in winter. He’d wanted to rebuild the Ward so boys like Tavi never had to sleep one leak away from freezing.
But right now, right here, he felt so small that he’d do anything to be back home. Working in the docks, or in the mines, or in the refinery, it meant not talking to others much. It meant being insignificant.
Ryneth had accepted being insignificant. He could even have survived being a prisoner, no matter how awful that sounded. If it was to put him to work somewhere, it would have just been the same shit, different scene.
But this…
Daven terrified him. Men had always backed off once his static showed its teeth. Daven only came closer.
Daven was handsome and he knew it. He was privileged and he knew it. He was stronger, and he fucking knew it. The way his air trapped Ryneth’s static, the way his strong hips rolled against his own, trembling ones.
Daven had been his first real kiss. His first real fuck.
Ryneth rolled over and bit his fist to prevent himself from breaking down. He waited for the static to rise, to shield him the way it always had. Needed the tearing pressure behind his eyes, the familiar grind that had greeted him every morning since he was twelve.
But it didn’t come.
Lifting his head, he looked around the bedroom, taking it in properly for the first time since he had arrived on Helion. No one was watching him. No one was waiting to escort him somewhere. No one was there to claim him.
For the first time since he’d arrived, it felt like he had a choice.
He could just get up and leave, couldn’t he?
The thought didn’t even feel real.
Even in the empty room, some part of him was already waiting for Daven to come back.
He scanned the room, eyes moving from the balcony doors to the empty bathroom and down the hall beyond.
“Daven,” he called again.
His gaze snagged on the coffee table at the far end of the room.
No.
“What the fuck?”
He shoved the sheets aside, ignored the ache in his body, and crossed the room fast.
The holochip. Mara’s holochip.
Ryneth thought he’d lost it after his captivity. But there it lay.
Ryneth lifted the small metal disc and studied it.
He still couldn’t believe the Imperial prince had used his little brother’s disease to get exactly what he wanted.
A public statement.
The words sat wrong in his chest. Daven had said them like a promise, like a threat, like something already decided.
Ryneth didn’t fully understand Helion’s rules yet, but he understood enough to know that public meant visible.
It meant people talking. It meant becoming something in front of everyone before he even knew what name they’d give it.
Ryneth turned the chip over in his hand.
At first, the back looked smooth. Then thin lines of silver began to crawl across the metal, surfacing like something waking beneath the surface.
He froze.
Symbols etched themselves into the disc, sharp and bright beneath his fingers.
Nereth solan.
He stared. “What the fuck…”
Those words had not been there before. He knew they hadn’t. Mara would have noticed. He would have noticed.
He traced the symbols with his thumb.
The shock snapped through him so hard his hand jerked. “Shit.”
He dropped the chip and watched it strike the floor. Static flared out of him instinctively and met the chip’s pulse with a metallic snap.
“Ah!” Ryneth squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers to his temple as pain spiked there. His vision swam. “Nereth solan.”
The words were forced out of him, again and again, until the syllables dragged in his mouth, slowed by pain and exhaustion.
Something was there. Inside him. Connecting with him. He could feel it reaching, brushing against him from somewhere just beyond his awareness.
His static surged in response, the current rising through his veins to shield him. It pressed outward, driving the presence back.
It was like—
He gasped and his eyes flew open. The penthouse stood empty around him. He was alone. Saved by the one thing that had kept him from ever having real friends.
His static sank back into his blood and receded beneath his skin.
Ryneth crouched and studied the chip on the floor, his fingers hovering above the metal, reluctant to touch it.
The activation seam glinted beneath his thumb.
He withdrew his hand. “What are you?” His eyes moved back to the words. “What do you want?”
Of course the damn thing didn’t reply.
He imagined talking to Mara. Just this once. Just to hear her say that everything was all right. That he was all right.
His vision blurred. The first tear rolled down his cheek and dropped onto the chip with a faint sizzle.
He was tired of running. Tired of hiding. But if he stopped, if he truly showed himself, who would still stay?
No one ever stayed once they saw too much.
Ryneth was a worker. A survivor. He’d done shifts in the mines, in the docks, in the refinery, whatever kept the Ward standing and put food on the table.
He wasn’t educated like Daven, not popular, not sophisticated.
He was just… there. And all because he had boarded the wrong shuttle at the wrong time.
Daven couldn’t seriously want to make any public statements that involved him.
Ryneth wiped his face, annoyed with himself. What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t fragile. Crying had never fixed anything. It sure as hell had never paid the bills.
A knock on the door made him nearly jump out of his own skin.
He frantically wiped his eyes, glaring at the front door as if he could see through it who was on the other side.
There was another knock.
“Who is it?” If it was Daven, he would have used his holo key.
“Ryneth? Open the door.”
He recognized that voice. It was the guard who always shadowed him. The tall one who watched more than he talked.
“It’s Vandor.”
“Oh. Right.” He stepped toward the door. What did he want?
When the door swung open, Vandor’s gaze moved immediately to his face. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Why?”
“It’s just—” Vandor gestured toward his own eyes.
“Oh, yes, that.” He wiped beneath his eyes, embarrassed as he leaned on his other leg. “It’s nothing. But if you’re looking for Daven, he’s not here.”
“I know he isn’t. I came for you.”
“For me? Why?” Ryneth wasn’t used to being the reason someone showed up. He didn’t know what to do with that.
Vandor wore his school uniform, the golden brooch at his collar marked with the Academy insignia. He was taller than Ryneth, broad-shouldered, black hair threaded with muted blue that echoed in his eyes. His gaze lingered without apology.
Ryneth folded his arms protectively across his chest, hating himself for his insecurity.
“I’m here to check on you. See if you’re okay. Did you get any sleep after Daven dragged you back here?”
Heat crept up his neck and he turned away.
Vandor followed him inside without hesitation, as if the space already belonged to him. “Did you eat?”
“I was about to.”
“I bet you were.” Vandor moved toward the kitchen counter.
He glanced once toward the bedroom, then back at Ryneth.
“He left early. Meeting with Milanov. Said if he couldn’t take you himself, I would.
” Vandor’s mouth twitched. “His exact words were, ‘I don’t like you, but you’re less likely to lose what’s mine than anyone else in this house. ’”
Ryneth tried not to react. “I didn’t ask.”
Vandor’s mouth twitched faintly. “You were going to. I just thought you’d want to be prepared for the looks you’ll get today. People love gossip.”
Looks… Ryneth wasn’t ready to know more.
Silence lingered for a second.
Vandor’s voice softened. “You good?”
Ryneth considered lying. “Yes,” he said finally. “I think I am.”
Vandor studied him for a beat longer. Then he slid his bag off his shoulder and set it on the counter. “Good. Consider me your tigano service.”
A sweet scent wafted through the penthouse as Vandor handed him a paper bag. “Let’s get you to eat something. Then I’ll take you to the Academy.”
Ryneth snorted but couldn’t keep his eyes off the cinnamon buns. His stomach grumbled. “You don’t have to escort me.”