Chapter 18 #2
Mirel hesitated, breath shaking as he tried to speak. “You’re angry. But I had to see. You don’t care what I feel.” His voice cracked, the words defiant even through the tremor. Kylix saw the flare in his eyes and felt the heat of it, the challenge aimed straight at him.
Kylix’s laugh came low, amused and dangerous. “Your feelings?” He moved closer, the sound soft as a threat. “I know your feelings. I can smell them.” His hand caught Mirel’s jaw, thumb brushing over the edge of his throat. “Fear, desire, need, it’s all the same to me.”
Mirel flinched but didn’t look away. “I’m not afraid,” he stammered, the last word breaking as his pulse leapt.
Kylix’s smile widened. “Of course you are.” He let his palm drift lower, feeling the tremor in Mirel’s body, the stuttered breath against his chest. The sound pleased him. It fed something primal.
But I like you better when you fight.
The thought burned through him, Dariux heat tightening across his hands as he watched the reaction, cataloguing every breath, every twitch as his own.
Mirel swallowed hard, eyes bright. “You can’t just—”
Kylix cut him off with another quiet laugh, almost gentle in its cruelty. “I can. And I will. Now move.”
Mirel obeyed, hesitant but burning, each step swallowed by the quiet hum of the corridor. Kylix followed close behind, every inch of him a storm barely contained.
When they reached the landing, Kylix caught his wrist and spun him, pressing him against the wall. The sound that escaped Mirel was small, startled. Kylix’s mouth found his ear.
“You know what went through my mind when Moargan texted me about you being in the graveyard?” he murmured.
The memory still stung, fury and relief tangled in his chest, sharp enough to taste.
He’d imagined the frost swallowing him whole before he’d even arrived.
“You know how scared I was to find you half-dead?”
Mirel shook his head, breath ragged. “I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did. And now you’ve learned you don’t belong there anymore. You belong with me.”
“No… I—” He didn’t get further. Kylix kissed the words from his mouth as he pulled him fully into the bedroom. He dragged Mirel over the threshold, the door sliding shut behind them.
The bed caught the corner of Mirel’s leg. He staggered, then righted himself. Frost bled from his skin and died in the air. The room pulsed between warmth and chill, steam blooming, glass of the sconces fogging, a fight between elements.
“You think the cold will save you? I’ll teach it who owns you first.” Kylix pushed him onto the bed with a satisfied smirk, watching him fall back against the sheets before following him down. His palms burned where they met Mirel’s chilled skin, Dariux energy humming through his veins.
Mirel’s chin lifted, voice trembling but defiant. “You think you can scare me?”
“I sure hope I do.” Kylix laughed when he tried again to shove him off, nails scraping the front of his shirt. The sound of fabric and breath filled the space.
Kylix grabbed for the buttons of Mirel’s shirt.
His fingers moved fast, rough with need.
Each button came undone with a snap of pressure.
He bent between every gap, kissing the skin, marking his path down Mirel’s chest. When the last button gave, he tore the shirt open, seams snapping under his hands.
He lowered his head, mouth finding a nipple, licking once, then again, rough and hungry before sucking hard enough to pull a broken sound from him.
Kylix heard his own breathing now, rough and uneven, felt the warmth rising off both their bodies. “You like that?” he murmured against the skin. “I can feel you shaking for it.”
Mirel’s protest came breathless, stammered, as he tried to push him away. Kylix caught the movement easily, eyes burning brighter as his jeweled incisors caught the light. His Dariux stirred, hungry and bright, answering the fight with deeper hunger.
He laughed again, darker now, and lowered his head, kissing every inch of bare skin he could reach, shoulder, collarbone, the hollow between breaths. His tongue dragged slow and hot, tasting sweat and frost, drinking in Mirel’s scent until it filled him like fire.
Kylix caught his wrists, lifted them above his head, and held them there. “Keep them there,” he warned, voice low and sharp. “Or I’ll tie them together.”
Mirel’s eyes flashed, defiant even through the fear. Kylix grinned, pleased, the glint of his incisors bright in the dark. When Mirel didn’t move, he leaned in, dragging his mouth lower, teeth grazing skin.
With a rough pull, he tore the rest of Mirel’s clothes free, pants and underwear, until the air hit bare skin.
Kylix drew back just long enough to take in the sight, breath hard.
His gaze traced the shape of him, the flush of his chest, the curve of his body.
Hunger tightened through his jaw, the Dariux answering with a low, burning hum.
He made a show of undressing himself, each movement slow, deliberate.
His coat hit the floor first, then his shirt, buttons slipping free beneath sharp fingers.
His gaze never left Mirel. “You have no idea what I’ve been thinking about,” he said, voice low, edged with hunger.
“How I’d pin you down and taste every inch until you beg.
” He stripped off his shirt, heat rolling off his skin.
“I’m going to ruin you for anyone else, make sure the whole world knows who you belong to.
” He unfastened his belt, metal glinting in the dim light, and pushed his trousers down.
“By the time I’m done, you’ll remember exactly what my name feels like on your tongue. ”
Mirel’s breath hitched, his voice catching in protest, a broken attempt at defiance. “You don’t get to,” he stammered, but the words dissolved when Kylix moved closer.
Kylix smiled, dark and certain. He leaned down, giving him a wet kiss that caught Mirel’s lower lip, tugging until it opened beneath him. He pressed his body flush to Mirel's, skin against skin, the warmth of his chest meeting Mirel's chill.
Without looking away, he reached for the bedside table, fingers closing around the small bottle of lube. He pulled back just enough to breathe, eyes bright and wild. Then he hooked Mirel's legs over his shoulders, spreading him open with slow, commanding ease.
He looked down, voice rough. “Tell me, little ghost,” he murmured. “Has anyone ever touched you here?”
Mirel glowered up at him, breath catching. “Th-that’s n-none of your business,” he managed, the words stammered but defiant.
Kylix laughed quietly, the sound low and amused. “Everything concerning you is my business,” he said, voice tightening with hunger. “I’ll take that as a no.” He slicked his fingers with lube, tracing the rim, teasing the crease. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I’ll be gentle.”
Then he pressed forward, pushing a finger inside.
Mirel jolted, his body tensing. Kylix lowered his mouth from his taut stomach to his shivering thighs.
“So beautiful.” Nip.
Mirel panted.
“Precious.” Nip.
Mirel arched his back, rolling his hips when Kylix pressed in a second finger.
“That’s it, little darae. Feel my fingers. Do they make you feel good?”
Mirel shook his head, his whole body writhing on the sheets, contradicting the lips he pressed into a fine line.
“No?” Kylix’s mouth moved to Mirel’s aching cock, giving it a firm lick before taking the tip between his lips.
Mirel’s hips jerked off the bed.
Kylix hummed around him, grinning when he caught Mirel’s gold-blue gaze. Pulling back his fingers, he added more lube to both his hand and his cock, giving it a few slow strokes. “You like what you see?”
Mirel’s mouth opened. Only broken sounds came out.
“That’s what I thought.” Kylix pressed the tip against him and pushed in, slow, controlled.
He meant to punish him, but somewhere between the sound of Mirel’s breath and the tremor in his thighs, the anger slipped into something else. Something close to need, fear, or even reverence. He hadn’t expected that. He’d expected fire and fight, not this quiet ache clawing at his chest.
He pushed in deeper, inch by inch, every motion deliberate.
Mirel’s nails caught the sheets, his throat tight, the sound that left him somewhere between a cry and surrender.
Kylix froze, breath breaking. His hands framed Mirel’s face, thumbs brushing the sweat from his cheeks before sliding down his neck.
“Look at me,” he said.
Mirel did. Gold-blue eyes met eyes of fiery dark. For a breath, the world stilled. No sirens, no smoke. Just two hearts hammering against each other through skin.
He moved again, slow, reverent. The kind of slow that felt like worship disguised as hunger.
His muscles tightened with restraint. Part of him wanted to devour Mirel, to punish him for the fear he’d caused, but he forced it down. That fury belonged to the arena, not here. Not with his mate.
Kylix’s teeth found another inch of skin, sinking in with euphoria.
Fated mate.
His. Only his.
His hips rocked deeper, his hands sliding over the body he called his. He grabbed hold of Mirel’s cock.
“Look at you, claimed one. Look at how you open up for me.”
He stroked in rhythm with his thrusts, slow, deep, meant to last. Mirel bucked beneath him, stammers breaking apart into wordless sound. Pale skin flushed, sweat tracing his throat, mouth open, lips trembling.
“Good Light,” Kylix muttered. Mirel’s slit gleamed with precum, pulsing in his grip.
“You feel perfect in my hand, little darae.” His movements slowed as the pressure built. “Like you were made for this.”
The need rose fast, burning through him. “Fuck… Mirel…” His teeth latched once more as Mirel shivered beneath him. Kylix’s tongue soothed the mark as Mirel cried out, spilling over his hand. The sight dragged him over the edge, his body tightening, a growl caught in his throat as he came.
White flared behind his eyes. For a heartbeat, he felt everything. Mirel’s pulse, the tremor in his breath, the wild rush that wasn’t just his own. It was too much, too deep. The Dariux inside him stirred and answered. For the first time, it didn’t feel like power; it felt like recognition.
They stayed like that for a moment. The fury stilled.
Kylix breathed deeply, heartbeat slowing. He eased out of Mirel carefully, catching the soft sound that escaped him. For a long time, only their breathing filled the room.
He reached for a cloth, cleaning them both in silence.
His movements were slower now. He wiped the sweat from Mirel’s thighs, the traces on his stomach, the faint streaks of red that shouldn’t have been there.
He paused at the sight, gaze sharpening, then softened, checking with light fingers that nothing had torn.
“Easy,” he murmured when Mirel flinched. “Just making sure you’re not hurt.” He worked in slow circles, drawing warmth back into cool skin. “Good. No bleeding. You’ll ache, but that’s all.”
His thumb brushed the inside of a trembling thigh. “Still with me?”
Mirel nodded, more breath than word.
Kylix set the cloth aside and wiped himself clean. When he was done, he pulled the sheets over them, drawing Mirel against his chest. The faint scent of frost still clung to his skin. Kylix brushed a thumb along his jaw. “You did well,” he said softly. “Better than you know.”
Mirel’s eyes half-opened. “You’re still angry.”
Kylix’s mouth curved, a low hum against his temple. “Of course I am. But that’s tomorrow’s problem.” His voice softened, promise and warning at once. “You’ll learn what it costs in daylight.”
A flicker of panic crossed Mirel’s face; Kylix caught it with a slow kiss, the kind that soothed and warned. “Sleep,” he whispered against his mouth. “I said you were safe, not free.”
Mirel exhaled, tension easing. He turned slightly, voice rough. “Don’t leave.”
“I won’t.” Kylix settled deeper into the sheets, one arm heavy across him. The warmth between them steadied, human and quiet.
A faint hum began from the corner of the room, the old wall speaker catching a low, slow tune. The sound was almost static, a pulse of rhythm that filled the quiet.
Mirel stirred, already half-asleep. “That music,” he murmured, voice faint. “That’s what I used to miss most. No one played anything at the graveyard. I forgot what it felt like… to fall asleep to sound.” His words trailed off, breath softening against Kylix’s chest.
Kylix looked down at him, the faintest smile ghosting his mouth. “Then you won’t sleep in silence again.”
The song kept playing in the background on a low loop, a heartbeat made of light and static. It filled the room without intruding, soft enough that even their breathing seemed to match its rhythm.
He closed his eyes, letting the sound lull them both toward sleep. The music stayed, a steady pulse beneath the dark, reminding him how close he had come to losing Mirel.