Chapter 19 #2
The classroom lights had been bright and steady, but he hadn’t been able to focus.
The words on the screen blurred, yet he copied them anyway, his handwriting smaller than usual.
Every few lines he caught himself glancing at the door, half expecting Kylix to walk through it.
When the teacher paused to adjust the board, Mirel traced the faint mark still visible on his wrist. The skin there was lighter and smooth where the chain had been.
He covered it with his sleeve before anyone could notice and kept writing until the bell sounded.
The hallways echoed with footsteps and the steady hum of vents. Outside, the air was warmer, thick with fuel and rain. A black car waited by the curb, lights steady, engine low. Mirel slowed when he saw Kylix behind the wheel, profile turned toward the window.
“You’re late,” Kylix said.
“Class ran long.”
“Then you’re learning something.” His tone softened, but only slightly. “Get in.”
Mirel obeyed and closed the door behind him. He sat carefully, not letting their shoulders touch. The silence was sharp enough to feel.
“Did you eat?” Kylix asked.
“With Cyprian and Archer.”
“I heard. You liked it?”
“It was good.”
Kylix’s hand moved, resting on Mirel’s thigh, his thumb tracing a slow line that stole his breath. “Good,” he said. “You should laugh more.” He leaned in and pressed his mouth to Mirel’s neck, just below the ear. The kiss was soft but carried warning. “But not for them.”
Mirel’s breath caught. “I wasn’t.”
“I know.” His voice dropped to a murmur. “Still, I like to remind you.”
The car pulled into the main road, the city sliding past in lines of light.
Kylix drove one-handed, the other resting close enough that Mirel could feel the heat of it through his trousers.
The world outside blurred to streaks of glass and gold, but it was Kylix’s stillness that caught him, as if every turn of the wheel was for him alone.
The roar found them in waves. It didn’t sound like joy.
It sounded like a mouth opening. Blue pennants thrashed along the concourse.
Vendors hawked light sticks that pulsed to the stadium rhythm.
Mirel watched the beat climb the walls and felt the old instinct return, the one that counts exits without turning the head.
Kylix’s knuckles flexed once on the wheel, the motion small and precise as a promise.
A voice rolled through the city speakers:
“Citizens of Helion, be advised. An unscheduled Aureate will commence at dusk.”
Mirel turned toward him. “So the rumours are true. But unscheduled?”
Kylix’s mouth curved. “Everything’s scheduled until the Imperior changes his mind. Someone wants a show.”
“Who’s performing?”
“Daven,” Kylix said. “My cousin.”
Kylix’s hand moved to Mirel’s thigh again.
The air between them thickened as the distance vanished.
Mirel bit his lip. His body already reacted to Kylix’s bare touch, desperate as he had been to be close to the Imperial Prince.
And Kylix knew, judging by his triumphant smirk and the way he spread his fingers as he slid further up and to the growing bulge in his pants.
“I heard you went to Archer’s this morning.” His fingers unbuckled Mirel’s belt. The sound of the sliding zipper charged the air. Mirel took in a deep breath, arousal flooding immediate and dizzying his head.
“Y-yes.”
“Hmm. What did you think of his tiganos? Should I get them from his place from now on, start a war with Aviel? That would be kind of fun.” His fingers slid over Mirel’s clothed erection, making him hiss and buckle his hips.
He felt like grabbing Kylix’s hand and biting it, anything to prevent himself from screaming as Kylix’s hand dipped under the waistband and grabbed his cock.
“Already leaking for me, little ghost.” Kylix sounded pleased.
Mirel’s head flopped back when Kylix started stroking him. Slow and cruel, making him feel so good he had to contain himself from coming right away.
“Remember when I told you about my first Aureate? Well, this is his. He’s very excited. And so are you, aren’t you?” Kylix squeezed his slit, preventing him from climaxing. Mirel bucked, a silent protest, a desperate grunt that made Kylix chuckle.
“I have a private booth in the arena. That’s where we’ll go. You can come like this, in your uniform. You won’t need clothes inside the booth anyway, my little darae. I will take good care of you.”
He smoothed Mirel’s collar like a man fixing a blade to its sheath. “You’ll come where I tell you,” he said, softer. “How I tell you. And you’ll thank me for making you wait.” The crowd roared again, as if the city agreed.
His fingers traced the lines of Mirel’s erection, brushing his slit. Then he removed his hand, looked at the precum he’d gathered and licked it up. Mirel could only stare.
“Are you not going to—”
Kylix turned his way, leaning back, placing his hands behind his head. He spread his thighs, showing off the obvious lines of his erection. “Make you come? Nah. Not yet. Tonight’s ours. The game of the Dariux. Can’t have Daven have all the fun.”
Mirel fisted his hands in shame and frustration. Frost mingled with blood.
Kylix laughed. “Pack yourself up, Mirel, no one else gets to see what’s mine.”
The hovercar parked in front of the arena, engine idling before cutting off. The air inside was heavy with heat and the muffled roar of the crowd beyond the walls. Kylix turned to Mirel, amusement flickering in his eyes as he watched him try to steady his breath.
Mirel’s hands shook as he reached for the door. Kylix laughed, low and sharp.
“Come on, little ghost,” he said, stepping out and circling to open Mirel’s door. “Let’s go for some entertainment.”
He offered his hand, mockingly polite, and the city’s noise swelled around them as they stepped into the glow of the approaching night.