Chapter 30
DAVEN
The private hover car hummed through the night. Below them, Helion burned in ribbons of light, the broken storm still curling over the Outer Ring.
Daven barely saw any of it. He couldn’t stop looking at Ryneth.
His bonded had dropped into the seat by the window like he hadn’t just walked into a fucking warzone, thrown lightning with his bare hands, and hauled Daven out of death twice.
His white hair was still damp from the storm, his shirt clinging to his skin. And his mouth was swollen from the kiss Daven had dragged out of him in the middle of gunfire.
Fuck, that had nearly made him lose his mind.
The thought made his incisors itch again. Seeing Ryneth fight beside him…
He still had the image of static snapping off his baby’s hands, those bright eyes locking on him through the storm.
He wanted to shove him into the seat and kiss him until he stopped breathing, or throw him over his shoulder and lock him inside the penthouse for the next month.
Probably both.
Shifting toward the built-in bar before he did something reckless in front of the driver partition, Daven grabbed the cabinet handle and tried not to picture Ryneth spread naked across the leather seat. “You look like you need a drink, aethera.” His voice came out rough.
He needed one too.
Ryneth turned his head and those bright eyes hit him at once, still carrying the last thin flicker of static. His mouth curved as if he knew exactly where Daven’s thoughts had gone. “Actually, I’m thirsty.”
Daven’s hand stilled on the cabinet as his power surged under his skin. Arousal slid through his veins and he could only stare at Ryneth, at the way Ryneth stayed stretched out against the leather like he had no idea what that sight did to a man.
Or maybe he did.
“You’re thirsty, huh?”
Ryneth tipped up his gaze to meet Daven’s stare, lifting the corner of his mouth. “Maybe.”
Fucking tease.
Daven left the decanter where it was and moved into his space instead, sliding one knee between Ryneth’s before bracing a hand beside his head and leaning in until Ryneth had to tip his chin up. “And what exactly are you thirsty for, baby?”
Ryneth’s gaze dropped to Daven’s mouth. Then lower. The static at his fingertips flickered against the leather. “That depends.”
Daven kept him pinned in place without touching him. His cock was hardening with alarming speed. “Dangerous answer.”
Ryneth’s lips parted. “You asked.”
Daven just stared at him. Was his aethera flirting with him? Then he bent, close enough that his mouth brushed the edge of Ryneth’s jaw when he spoke. “You keep looking at me like that in this car, baby, and I’m going to give the driver a story he can’t tell anyone.”
Ryneth’s breath caught, and Daven smiled against his skin, feeling it low in his gut. “Still thirsty?”
Ryneth turned his face just enough that their mouths nearly touched. “Worse now.”
That nearly broke what little self-control Daven had left. He pulled back with effort and reached for the decanter, pouring two glasses. “Drink first. Then you can tell me what possessed you to walk into a warzone like a fucking lunatic.”
Ryneth took the glass this time, their fingers catching for a beat too long. Static sparked once at his knuckles against the rim. Then he leaned back against the seat and looked out over Helion, the heat in his face easing into something quieter.
“So many deaths,” he said softly. His fingers tightened around the glass. “So much hate.” He swallowed, eyes still on the city below. “They must’ve loved someone once too. Before Helion took them. Before all of that turned into this.”
The mood in the car shifted with him.
Daven said nothing for a moment. His bonded had walked into hell tonight and had still come out of it looking at the bodies instead of himself. Looking at the grief underneath it.
He reached over without thinking and took the glass from Ryneth’s hand before the tremor in his fingers could make him spill it.
Ryneth looked at him.
Daven set the drink aside and closed his hand around the back of his neck, thumb dragging once through the damp hair there. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah?” Daven’s mouth curved, but there was nothing playful in it. He leaned in and pressed his forehead briefly to Ryneth’s temple. “You nearly got yourself killed. I nearly let you.”
Ryneth went still.
Daven’s grip tightened once, grounding, possessive, real. “Next time you want to walk into a warzone for me, at least give me a second to come lose my mind properly.”
Ryneth let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh, but his hand came up and caught in the front of Daven’s shirt, holding on.
“There he is,” Daven murmured. “Stay with me, baby.”
Daven didn’t say the worst of that.
He’d lied the second the hospital footage started looping through the penthouse because he’d known exactly what Ryneth would do if he realized where Daven was going. He would’ve followed. He had followed anyway.
And Daven still couldn’t stop wondering if Bekn had wanted that. If the bastard had known exactly what he was doing when he’d been there the night Ryneth was sold on that shuttle, when he taunted him, when he dragged his name back into all of this.
Bekn had wanted Ryneth frightened. Wanted him cornered. Wanted him waiting.
Now Bekn was in chains. And sooner or later, one way or another, he would die for it.
“So many people who never had a choice,” Ryneth murmured.
He kept looking out at the city, light sliding over his face as the hover car moved.
Daven wondered where his mind had gone. Back to Attica.
Back to the Ward. Back to Düren. Back to every time Ryneth had stood between something weaker and the thing trying to break it.
Maybe he was thinking about how all that hatred had started somewhere small.
Somewhere human. Maybe he was thinking about the fact that while they’d all been fighting for scraps down on the ground, the real rot had been sitting up here the whole time.
There was nothing ordinary about him.
In any other moment, Daven would have wanted to keep him talking. He would’ve dragged every thought out of that beautiful head one piece at a time until he understood exactly where his bonded had gone just now.
But not right now.
Right now, he was still half hard and trying not to drag Ryneth into his lap in front of the driver partition.
Taking another drink, Daven stretched his arm along the back of the seat behind him, close enough that his fingers brushed the ends of Ryneth’s hair when the car banked.
From the side, every part of his bonded was a distraction. The slow pull of breath in his chest. The line of his throat. The way his knees had drifted apart like he already knew exactly what that did to Daven.
Ryneth was talking about death. Daven was thinking about pulling him down on top of him.
“What would drive a man that desperate to join a rebel organization like Attica?” Ryneth continued, still staring out at the city. “To sell drugs to innocent people and watch them slowly dig their own grave?”
Daven’s hand landed on his shoulder like it belonged there.
His thumb slid once over the torn edge of Ryneth’s collar, catching warm skin underneath, and he had the brief, completely unhelpful thought that if he dropped to his knees right now, Ryneth would probably still finish the sentence before he realized what Daven was doing. “I don’t know, baby.”
Ryneth kept talking anyway. “And Bekn stood there acting like he was the only one who ever suffered.”
“Hm.” Daven’s mouth curved. “Bekn never wanted justice.”
Ryneth finally turned his head. “You’re right. I think somewhere along the way, he got so lost in hate that he forgot how to love.” Then his gaze dropped to Daven’s mouth, and he gave him a small shove with his shoulder. “Are you even listening to me?”
Daven’s hand tightened where it rested on him. “Barely.”
Ryneth cleared his throat. His gaze dragged over Daven once, slower this time, and his eyes widened just a little.
“You seem to be at a loss for words for once.” Daven reached over and took the glass from Ryneth’s hand before he could lift it again.
Ryneth blinked. “What are you doing?”
“You’re thinking too hard.”
“That’s rich coming from you.”
Daven set the glass aside and turned back toward him, one hand sliding to his collar, thumb hooking beneath his chin. “I don’t think. I make excellent decisions very quickly.”
Ryneth’s breath changed as he settled back in the seat. “That so?”
Daven’s mouth curved. “I kissed you in the middle of a firefight. I’d say that proves the point.”
Ryneth’s eyes dropped to his mouth again. “That wasn’t deliberate. That was reckless.”
“Yeah?” Daven turned toward him, their knees already pressed together. He slid his thumb beneath Ryneth’s jaw and tipped his face toward him until there was barely any space left between them. “It felt very deliberate to me.”
Ryneth snorted, but he sounded breathless. His dilated pupils had blown most of his eyes, leaving only a thin silver ring. “I wasn’t afraid up there,” he whispered. “I knew I’d find you.”
He just looked at him.
Fuck. That hit somewhere deeper than Daven wanted to name. Low and brutal, with something dangerously close to tenderness under it. It made the whole cabin feel too small. Made him want to drag Ryneth into his lap and keep him there until the sun came up, just to prove he could.
His thumb slid once under Ryneth’s jaw, slower this time. “You really did, didn’t you?”
Ryneth held his gaze. “I did.”
Something sharp and hot moved through Daven’s chest.
“How did you know where to go?”
Daven’s hand stayed at Ryneth’s throat. “I could ask you the same thing, and I will. But at the hospital, the footage kept looping back to that platform. I couldn’t explain it. I just knew I had to be there.” His jaw tightened. “Like whoever was coming for you was waiting there.”
Ryneth went still. Then Daven tightened his grip and kissed him, like he wanted to make sure the point landed.