Chapter 21
They didn’t speak on the way back. The hovercar hummed through dark streets, steady and low. Neither of them looked at the other. Guards opened the estate gates, and the car stopped before the house. Metal cooled and ticked in the quiet.
Outside, frost glittered thinly along the rails. The city was a pulse far away, muffled beneath the rain. Peace kept the same rhythm as fear.
At the doors, two Luminaries stepped aside. Inside, lights rose softly and music drifted from the wall system, fading into the background. They crossed into Kylix’s Waltr, the glass room warm from banked heat.
“That was quite the night.” Kylix took off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt as he crossed the room.
The air was warm. He kicked off his boots, changed into loose night clothes, and poured a drink from the counter.
Lighting a red-cinder cigarette, he took a slow draw, then caught Mirel by the collar and drew him in.
He released the smoke between their parted mouths, the taste sharp and heady before sealing it with a kiss.
The haze hit fast. Mirel’s pupils widened. He blinked, gaze tracing Kylix’s lips for the next breath. Kylix kissed him again, teeth catching his lower lip, a faint sound escaping before he spoke against Mirel’s mouth.
“Tell me what it was like for you.”
Mirel gave a small, uncertain laugh. “What…being fucked against glass?”
“Yes, that too,” Kylix said with a faint smile. He took another pull and caught Mirel’s chin, tilting it as he pleased. “But also the rest of it. Having witnessed an Aureate from above. To feel your Dariux being unleashed. Tell me how it felt.”
“It felt good.” Mirel’s mouth opened when Kylix’s grip tightened, filling him once more with a trace of smoke. The kiss that followed was sweet and intoxicating.
“Good,” Kylix said.
But the memory of the arena clung to Mirel. The heat, the roar, the helpless thrill that had rolled through his veins when Daven struck.
He hated that it had felt good.
Some part of him had wanted it. The blood, the dominance, the clean precision of power released. The Dariux inside him had leaned toward it like a starving thing, hungry for the rhythm of pain and control.
His mind recoiled. His pulse didn’t.
He could still feel the echo of it, the pull to burn or freeze, to own. Shame chased it like shadow after light.
Kylix was watching him. That knowing look, the faint curve of his mouth, said he saw it, the battle inside him, the thrill Mirel wished he could unlearn.
“Daven… he killed his prey.”
“Hm.” Kylix exhaled another curl of smoke. “It was beautiful.”
“But I’ve seen… others… keep their prey alive before.”
“Others?” His mouth curved, amused.
“You,” Mirel blurted. Colour climbed his cheeks. “I’ve seen you before. Fighting. Not killing. Why?”
“Depends on the prey. Sometimes I fuck them. Sometimes I kill them. Sometimes I make them soldiers. What would you do?”
“What?” Mirel stared, startled.
“Yeah. There will come a day when you stand in the heart of the arena. The crowd will sing your name. What will you do?”
“I don’t—” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“If I gave you a criminal, handsome and trembling, would you kill him, little darae? Or would you watch him break?”
“Kylix…” Mirel’s voice cracked. His lips trembled as he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to him in a messy, hungry way. Kylix caught a fistful of his hair and pulled him closer, tasting the corners of those lush lips. He dipped in again, savouring Mirel’s flavour.
For a heartbeat, Mirel saw what the arena must have looked like through his eyes, the roar of thousands, the heat, the hunger, and how small this silence was by comparison. Yet it was this, the trembling quiet between two breaths, that fed him more than victory.
“I know. But you were built for this.” Kiss. “Build.” Kiss. “For.” Kiss. “This.”
Mirel looked up at him. His gaze was wide and his mouth not quite bruised enough. “Still, that’s not the same as wanting it.”
Kylix brushed a hand through the pale strands and tapped his temple. “You’re overthinking. Is it cruel? Maybe. But we’re at the top of the chain. And I don’t know about you, but I like it there.”
Mirel turned aside, shoulders shrinking. “I’ve always been at the bottom, Kylix. My life…”
He didn’t finish.
“Your life?”
“It was cold. L-lonely.”
The nights had teeth. The wind came through the cracks and cut the breath out of him. He used to count the seconds between each gust, just to know he was still alive. No one ever answered back, and that silence became its own prayer.
“Tell me more.”
Mirel rose. “Don’t want to.”
The words came halting, caught in his throat.
The stutter wasn’t weakness, it was the sound of walls returning.
Every word cost him balance. Every silence rebuilt it.
He stayed on his feet, gaze distant. “There was nothing to say,” he murmured.
“When you’re alone long enough, words stop meaning anything.
The longer I didn’t speak, the less there was to say.
It just became quiet inside my head, and I stayed there. ”
Kylix watched him, heat shifting under his skin. He tried to imagine a world without sound, without anyone to command or defy. The thought made his chest tighten. He had never known quiet that wasn’t chosen.
A minute passed. Kylix watched him in the quiet. His right eye had frosted. A tear froze on his cheek, sculpted onto pale skin.
“It’s a beautiful gift,” he said at last. “Air. To command nature. To bend it to your will.”
“Hm.” Mirel lay back on the bed, watching the stars and the slow drift of a shuttle high above the night.
“F-fire is your element,” he said softly. Kylix moved through the glass space, heat pulsing off him.
“You are a prince.”
“I am.” Kylix’s gaze tracked the shuttle’s flicker as it lined up to land on Helion.
“What’s it like?” His voice came closer, too close.
Mirel turned. Kylix came over and sank onto the bed as well, reaching for a red-cinder cigarette from the pack. His power sparked into a flare of heat that lit the tip. Mirel watched, wide-eyed, then looked back at him.
“That was…”
“Awesome?” Kylix smirked, pleased by the awe in his gaze. “Fantastic? Or simply—”
The rest of his words were lost as Mirel pressed his lips to his. Smoke and sweetness filled the air. Teeth met, a moan broke between them. Kylix’s laugh was swallowed when Mirel kissed him harder, unpractised but eager, and he almost thanked the opium for it.
“Whoo, little darae,” Kylix said when Mirel caught his mouth again. He slid his fingers through the pale hair, then pulled him back just to look at him.
Mirel’s mouth stayed open, breath fast. Frost had gathered on his cheek, riming his skin in the faint light. He swallowed. “I’m sorry, I—”
“Never apologize.” Kylix brushed a knuckle over his flushed skin. “I’m already as much yours as you are mine.”
“Your fire… it was beautiful. When did it start?”
“When I was ten. I was in class and angry with the teacher. He told me to leave the room. I didn’t. So I lashed out.” Kylix smiled at the memory.
The room had smelled of chalk and oil. One blink and the desks were burning. The fire didn’t roar, it whispered, thin and clean, sliding over wood before anyone screamed. He still remembered their eyes, the line between awe and fear.
“You should’ve seen his face. Everyone’s face.”
“W-were you sent out?”
“Oh, yes. Zimeon was never impressed when we used our gifts during class.”
“Zimeon?”
“Milanov’s right hand. He was our tutor. Until sixteen, Dariux children are taught at home. After that, we either go to school or join the Luminary cadets.”
“Is that what you did?”
“Believe it or not, I was a little hothead,” Kylix said, grinning.
Mirel laughed, tipping his head back until both eyes flared gold. Kylix went still, eyes fixed on him. Heat moved in his gaze. The look alone made Mirel flush.
“You know,” Kylix said, voice low, “I really like when you talk.”
Mirel’s gaze met his again, still bright with humour. “Why?”
“Words are the gate to your heart.” His thumb traced the line of Mirel’s jaw, command disguised as care. “And you have so many questions. I can see them. I’ll answer every one. But you know my biggest question? You can freeze a street and still choke on a word.”
“Professor Kiba says it will get better, with time and trust.”
“So you trust me now?”
“I guess I do.” Mirel pressed thumb and finger together. “A little bit.”
“Cheeky fucker.” Kylix caught his arm and drew him down onto his chest, their faces close. “Good thing I’m in a generous mood. After all, we’re going to be bonded forever tomorrow. What else do you want to know?”
Mirel blinked, confusion softening his features. “What’s going to happen tomorrow?”
“That’s when our bonding takes place, little darae.”
Mirel blinked again, the faint pout deepening his hunger. “D-do I have to go in the arena? I don’t want to go there.”
Kylix shook his head and brushed away the ice pearl that had been a tear. “No. It will be at the Green Mansion. It’s private, meant only for the Dariux. Even my parents will come.”
“P-parents?”
“Yes. I don’t see them often. They live near the Verdant Reaches,” Kylix said. “It’s quiet there. Green lakes, forests that steam in the mornings. My mother and father oversee most of Helion’s museums. They travel off-world to find new artists. My father paints, my mother curates.”
“Are they Dariux?”
“Yes. They carry the same fire element.” Kylix drew from the cigarette and let the smoke fade.
Kylix’s hand brushed the back of his neck, a steadying weight. The touch made Mirel’s throat close, but he didn’t pull away. The warmth helped him find the words that had stayed buried too long.