Chapter 24 #2
Daven watched the way Ryneth kept stirring the pan even though nothing needed stirring, like the motion itself held the memory steady.
“This.” Daven’s voice sounded rough with emotion. Something about the way Ryneth rushed to defend himself struck a chord. Like he’d wanted to apologize for his upbringing as if he could have changed that himself.
He hadn’t been thrown away. His parents had done that.
They’d sold their baby. They’d sold this beautiful, wide-eyed, soft-spoken man who got snappy when someone came too close and defended himself with static and work.
Suddenly, Ryneth made perfect sense to him. He was easy to read but hard to reach.
“This?” Ryneth stared at the pan where onions and carrots were frying.
Daven chuckled. “Not exactly like this, baby. This is our variation on what we call Talren Sole. It’s a national favorite. The fish is in the oven. Usually the carrots are thinly shaved and caramelized. We made our own version today, though. Go on, get the plates. Food’s ready.”
Ryneth blinked, then got moving, opening and closing drawers until he found the plates.
“When I was young, we used to have a servant who made the best dishes ever. I spent hours sitting in the kitchen with him, just watching and tasting whatever he made.”
Next to him, Ryneth snorted. “When I was young, I had an older brother who’d take me hunting for vegetables at the local farms before dawn.”
Daven filled their plates. “I thought you said you were the oldest.”
“He was. But then he disappeared one night. And then I was the oldest.”
Well, shit.
“It’s okay.” Ryneth grabbed their beers and set them on the counter. “It was a long time ago.”
“Not this way. Here, follow me. I told you I’ve got a surprise for you,” Daven called over his shoulder as he walked down the corridor and out the other side.
“You’ve got another terrace?”
“I do.”
When they stepped outside, Ryneth slowed. His gaze lifted to the oval glass building at the far edge of the terrace, the light already glowing inside. Daven watched him take it in, watched surprise give way to curiosity.
Beyond the terrace, Helion stretched out below them, calm for now, even with rumors about Attica’s drugs moving through every district.
“What’s that?”
“Let me show you.”
Daven led him across the terrace and pushed open the glass door. Warmth wrapped around them at once. Inside, the curved walls caught the city light and threw it back in soft reflections. Cushions and low seating had been arranged around a sunken center, with a narrow table already set for dinner.
“It’s called a Waltr.” Daven handed him a plate and pointed him toward the cushions. “Some people use them for studying. It’s got great acoustics.”
Ryneth looked around again, then let out a slow breath as he settled onto the cushions. “It’s very beautiful in here.” His gaze moved past the curved glass to the city beyond. “Warm too. Like your own little bubble above the terrace.”
Daven sat across from him with his plate. “That was the idea.”
Ryneth leaned slightly toward the glass, taking in the view. “You can see all the way to the sea from here.”
Daven watched him for a second before he finally started eating. “On a clear night, even farther. Moargan used one as his bedroom when he was younger. Helianth practices chess in his, and I—”
He halted. Thought about it.
He wasn’t sure, really, why he got it. He’d wanted to impress Ryneth, the same way he always wanted to impress everyone.
“You?” Ryneth prompted softly.
Daven shook his head and took another bite.
“It’s very beautiful.” Ryneth looked around, clearly impressed. “Can I ask you something?” Ryneth looked at him, and for a moment the silver of his irises seemed to glow. Then he ducked his head, as if the words had surprised him more than they surprised Daven.
“Sure, baby.”
Ryneth let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Do you—I mean…Good Light—”
“Do I what?”
Ryneth huffed softly. “The food’s delicious, by the way.”
Daven snorted. “Stop dancing around the question that’s clearly making you shy.”
Heat crept up Ryneth’s neck and cheeks. “Do you ever wonder if the bond could make a mistake?”
“No.” Setting his own empty plate aside, Daven crawled forward and nudged Ryneth’s plate off his lap onto the cushion beside him before straddling his thighs. “You don’t get to say things like that.”
The thought hit Daven harder than it should have.
After the run. After the class. After the way Ryneth had looked at him all day like he was trying to peel him open and see what was underneath, the idea of doubt felt wrong.
It pissed him off. He didn’t want distance tonight.
He wanted Ryneth under him, warm and flushed and looking up like he already knew where he belonged.
For a second, neither of them moved. Then Daven gathered the dishes from between them and set them aside on the low table, the soft clink of porcelain the only sound in the Waltr.
When he turned back, Ryneth was already watching him, flushed and quiet, his mouth parted just enough to make Daven’s pulse kick.
Ryneth let Daven cup his cheeks and tilt his head so they could look each other in the eye. He let himself be kissed, humming contentedly as Daven’s tongue slid inside his mouth.
“You weren’t given to the wrong man, aethera,” Daven muttered when he finally pulled back. They were both panting. “You were given to me.”
“But I don’t know much about you. You’re this prince, and I’m just…me.”
“If you want to know about me, just ask. You know what food I love now. And I know that you love this Waltr, which makes me glad, because I got it specifically for you.”
“Really?” Ryneth’s eyes widened with surprise.
“Of course I did, aethera. There might be things we don’t know yet, but we’re learning more every day. Plus, we have a whole lifetime to get to know each other.”
“So what do you know about me?” Ryneth’s voice became hoarse when he tilted his head back to give Daven space to kiss his throat and collarbone, opening the buttons of his shirt to expose Ryneth’s skin.
“I know you get snappy when you’re scared.”
Kiss.
“You reach for the shadows because it’s the only place you thought you could exist.”
A sharp nip.
“You’re intelligent. And passionate.”
His tongue traced the sensitive skin again.
“You love your family.”
Ryneth moaned when Daven’s lips closed over a nipple, sucking on it until it pebbled. His other hand pinched the other, teasing it until Ryneth bucked his hips and let out a soft groan.
“And I want to get to know myself too,” he mumbled, surprised when Ryneth gripped his hair in a tight fist and guided their mouths together.
He bit on Ryneth’s tongue, grinning when his aethera moaned against him and rolled his hips sluggishly.
“I thought you’d reward me for today,” he slurred when Daven pulled back and pressed him into the curved glass, knocking the back of Ryneth’s head lightly against the cool pane.
Something in Daven changed when he heard that.
The softness that had held between them all afternoon tightened into focus.
He still wanted to give, but now he wanted to mark too.
Reward him, yes. Then ruin him for anyone else.
By the time the night was over, Ryneth would know exactly who he belonged to.
“I will, baby. I will.” Pressing his thumb into the soft dip of Ryneth’s throat, he watched the way Ryneth’s eyes drifted, the silver clouded by opium and the heat of the room.
“I’m feeling a little weird.” Ryneth’s breath caught, his head tipping back against the cool pane.
“That’s because there’s a puffer inside the Waltr. Did I not mention that?”
Ryneth opened one eye. “No,” he snarled, but it only sounded cute. Like a kitten that had lost its claws.
“You did so well today,” Daven murmured, leaning in until their chests collided. “Going to class. Taking notes.”
Ryneth let out a wrecked sound, a half-sob that ended in a moan. He leaned back into the pressure, his hips rocking sluggishly against Daven’s thigh. “Please,” he wheezed, his fingers clawing at the cushions they sat on.
“Please what, aethera?” Daven grabbed Ryneth’s hair, yanking his head back to expose the line of his neck. “Tell me how much you want the reward.”
“Daven… fuck. I want it.”
Daven grinned, his jeweled incisors catching the amber light. He didn’t rush, instead letting the silence stretch, watching the way Ryneth’s pulse hammered beneath his skin.
He reached down, unbuckling Ryneth’s belt with a sharp click. He slid down Ryneth’s slacks, then his own, the air in the glass space turning sharp as their skin finally met. Ryneth was wet, a bead of precum glistening at the tip.
Daven spat into his own palm, the sound obscene in the quiet.
He smeared the moisture over Ryneth’s cock, then wrapped his hand around him and stroked him.
“Look at you,” he whispered, leaning down and letting a slow thread of spit drop into Ryneth’s open mouth.
“Taking it like a good boy. You like it filthy, don’t you? ”
Ryneth held Daven’s gaze, lips parted, a thin sheen of spit still visible on his tongue. Daven watched him swallow it, watched the movement of his throat, and felt his cock kick hard at the sight. Then Ryneth’s head thrashed back against the glass. “Yes. Fuck, yes.”
Daven caught him under the thighs and shifted him higher onto the cushions, then turned him with deliberate strength until Ryneth was on his knees, chest and cheek pressed to the curved glass.
The city spilled out beneath them in fractured lights. Ryneth made a wrecked sound when Daven spread his legs wider and folded him open, one hand braced between his shoulder blades to keep him there.
“Stay,” Daven murmured.
He spat into his hand again, slicked his fingers, and pushed two of them deep into Ryneth’s tight hole.
His aethera shrieked, his body arching under Daven’s touch. The static surged through him, blue-white light flashing under the skin of his forearms, but it had nowhere to go.