Chapter 16
Zephyr was already awake by the time they left home.
Neon banners blinked against the pale sky as trams hissed through the lower lanes and food vendors shouted over the din of traffic.
The car slipped into the city’s veins, tinted glass catching reflections of flickering towers and the blue pulse of holo-signs.
Inside, it rode a pocket of quiet through the noise, the windows throwing the city back at itself in clean, broken slices.
Kylix drove hard, Luminary guards flanking in formation, engines rising and falling in a controlled rhythm.
Towers of glass climbed toward the clouds, every window flashing coded light, alive with the pulse of Helion’s high wards.
The steering column warmed beneath his palms, the thrum of the engine syncing with his pulse.
Lanes cleared ahead on command. The guards held position, tight, precise.
A taste of metal lingered in the air, static brushing along his senses like an old warning.
The dashboard lights shuddered once, faint interference running through the feed as the Helion Academy spires came into view. A wide park spread before them, green and quiet, the last buffer between the city and its scholars.
“That’s Umber Park. It sits right next to the Art Building, where Cyprian studies.” Kylix pointed to where students had already gathered, enjoying breakfast and chatter in the cold morning hours.
Next to him, he felt Mirel shift in the passenger seat, his fear deliciously palpable. His gaze stayed on the grass. He didn’t look at the towers. His uniform was gray with a white brooch pinned just below the collar, marking him as a freshman. He didn’t speak. Kylix hadn’t expected him to.
“Over there is the daily control checkpoint. We’ll go through together so the guards know you.” He parked at the main entrance.
“Kylix…”
“Yeah?” Kylix’s voice came out rougher than he meant. He didn’t think Mirel had ever called him by his first name before. Not like this. Like he was begging for him. Begging for something he wouldn’t give him.
Mirel rubbed his thighs. He looked paler than usual, his platinum hair a chaotic shine. “N-nothing.”
They walked up to security. Kylix dismissed the guards’ extensive salute. The guards stood in mirrored lines, armor pale against the dawn light, faces half-hidden behind glass visors that reflected Kylix back at himself.
“This is Mirel Fandi. Soon he will be Mirel Zephyranth. He is an Essential and shall be protected and treated with respect.”
“Certainly, Imperial Kylix,” they murmured.
Kylix took Mirel’s hand and lifted his index finger for the scanner. “I’ll have you a new multi-slate when I pick you up after class.”
They crossed the marble threshold toward the inner gates. Mirel’s steps dragged half a beat behind.
“How long has it been since you were in school?” Kylix asked, tone quiet enough not to carry.
Mirel’s throat worked before he answered. “Ten years.”
“Then this will feel like another planet,” Kylix said. “Stay near me.”
They swept through the campus gates. Security bowed once again.
Students turned. The looks stayed too long.
Kylix felt his shoulders settle and took in Mirel’s trepidation like honey.
They recognized Kylix, feared him, admired him.
When he took Mirel’s hand, curiosity turned cautious, respect turned fear.
The air shifted as they passed. Talk fell away. The weight of eyes caught on every step. Kylix felt the attention slide over his skin, sharp as heat, and he let them look. Let them see what belonged to him.
Fuck the press conference, he thought. He wasn’t going to wait that long. No. He’d make it known to everyone here already that this winter boy was his.
“I’ll get Archer to give you an official tour of campus. He’s good at that. Loves to chat and all. Breakfast?”
“Okay.” Mirel’s answer came soft.
The canteen opened around them like the heart of the university, full of heat, chatter, and the sharp scent of coffee.
Students fell silent when the Luminary guard entered.
Kylix cut through them like heat through fog, Mirel close at his side as whispers followed their path.
He could feel every pair of eyes crawl across Mirel’s pale skin.
His fingers twitched with the urge to burn the attention away.
Cameras were banned, but the heads turning felt like lenses.
A holo banner flickered to static, headlines ghosting past:
Unrest in lower wards, missing medic as prisoner breaks free.
He felt Mirel tense at the word prisoner. His hand brushed Mirel’s wrist, a brief warning and a comfort both.
Stay quiet. Stay near.
Aviel arrived like the room had been waiting for him. A flash of motion caught Kylix’s eye as Aviel appeared beside him without warning, grin crooked, voice low. “Fucking media are around the event like dogs sniffing a bone,” he said.
Kylix’s arm around Mirel’s waist tightened as he steered him toward their table. “I’ll check it when I get to headquarters,” he said as they crossed the canteen threshold to where the others were sitting.
Aviel’s grin was all teeth. “I’m sure you will. And leave this poor baby all alone? Some of us will enjoy that.”
Kylix’s arm stayed firm around Mirel’s waist. “Watch what you enjoy.”
Aviel chuckled, low and sharp. “Always do. And like you, I tend to be protective.”
The words carried heat rather than humor. For a beat, the canteen’s chatter faded and the air between them drew tight. Mirel’s breath stuttered, caught between them. Kylix smiled, but his eyes warned fire. Aviel’s grin didn’t fade. It widened.
Theo walked through the far doors in his own gray uniform, flanked by Aviel’s guards. He lifted a hand toward Cyprian, who returned the gesture with a faint smile and murmured, “Poor guy.”
“Morning, heroes,” Moargan called. He sat sprawled, boots up, a grin cutting through the steam of his cup. “How’s life after murder?”
“Moargan.” Cyprian tapped the Imperial Prince’s hand before turning to Mirel. “Good morning, brother. You were phenomenal last night. I’m happy you’re here.”
“Thank you,” Mirel said thinly.
“He’ll be with Professor Kiba for the day,” Kylix announced. A cup of coffee and a plate of tiganos were set in front of them. He slid it to Mirel. “Eat.”
Mirel hesitated. Part of Kylix wished for defiance, just once, so he could remind them all who Mirel listened to. But then Mirel obeyed without a word, the stiffness in his shoulders plain as he took a quiet nibble from the tigano and started to chew.
Kylix watched the movement of his throat, slow and uncertain, the pulse catching light against the black collar. He liked seeing him swallow under his voice. The taste of last night lingered like smoke. It wasn’t hunger for food that tightened his chest.
More food was brought to their table.
Archer flushed when Helianth leaned close to whisper something too soft to share. The color climbed high on his cheekbones. Cyprian hid a grin behind his cup.
Yure scooped up a tigano, plopping it into his mouth. “I’ll come to headquarters after class,” he said with his mouth full. “See if I can crack that feed you’ve been tracking.”
Kylix nodded. “My boys are already working on it, but I can use your help. Most of us are still trying to find out what the fuck happened at the prison. I’ll keep you posted, Moargan.”
His gaze slid back to Mirel, quiet among the noise. “You finish your plate. Vandor will bring you to class after.”
Someone barked a laugh. The sound rippled through the table, small but sharp.
Mirel’s hand stilled mid-air. It trembled once. He didn’t speak.
Kylix’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t move, but the air near him warmed until the cutlery clicked, room temperature shifting up a notch.
Cyprian’s palm hit the table. “Stop it, everyone. It might be a joke between you guys, but you’re hurting my brother. Meaning… you’re hurting me.”
He leaned forward, eyes bright. “Say it again, and you answer to me.”
Heat lifted off the tableware. No one joked.
Moargan held up his hands in defeat. “I’m sorry, lover.”
“So whipped,” Aviel smirked. His voice carried lazy menace.
Moargan’s lips curved. “There, I stopped my little joke. Tonight I expect compensation.”
Laughter broke the tension again, but it was thinner now. Kylix didn’t laugh. His gaze stayed on Mirel’s hands until they stopped shaking. The next time someone mocked that silence, he promised himself, it would end differently.
Cyprian rolled his eyes. “I’ll take you to your building, Mirel.”
“Thank you,” Mirel muttered.
Kylix noticed the faint flush along Mirel’s otherwise pale cheeks. His chest tightened, something thrumming deep in his core. This winter boy, this feral beauty who had managed to survive all these years in the shadows.
His fated mate.
Something steadied in Kylix’s chest at the acknowledgment. Yes. Mirel was his. His to discover. His to praise, to love, and take care of.
He leaned closer. “Be good today,” he murmured, letting his fingertips brush briefly against the back of Mirel’s neck, a single, controlled touch that conveyed both warning and care before he drew back.
The warmth of that touch lingered. Mirel’s breath hitched, eyes fixed on the floor as if the contact had branded him.
A pulse climbed up his throat, small but visible.
Kylix saw it and almost smiled. Power didn’t need to shout; it could whisper and still be obeyed.
For a heartbeat, the air between them pulsed with something unsaid.
It wasn’t tenderness, not cruelty, but recognition.
Helianth grinned. “We’ll watch him. Go play soldier.”
Kylix rose, the chair scraping softly against tile. He walked out of the canteen without turning back. “He’ll be fine,” he said, more to himself than to them. The air cooled as he passed.