Chapter 24
He pushed Mirel inside first, hand flat against his back, and shut the door. “Drive.”
The car lurched forward, engines humming low like something alive. The air was warm, confined, thick with Mirel’s scent. Kylix’s pulse matched the hum, sharp and steady. He watched the streetlights sweep over him, catching on cheekbone, mouth, and throat. Each flicker fed his hunger.
He tried to focus on the flashing updates streaming across his multi-slate, but the glow blurred.
Desire and dread burned in the same vein.
Bekn was still loose, the footage spreading, his men restless.
Every risk pressed down on him, and Mirel sitting there, silent and perfect, was the one thing that refused to stay contained.
Kylix flexed his hands against his knees, forcing control.
His body had learned to confuse protection with possession, and right now he wanted both.
Mirel glanced at the screen still glowing on Kylix’s wrist. “Are the riots still bad?” he asked quietly.
Kylix shook his head. “No. The teams have it under control now. We pulled out the riot squads an hour ago, but I’ve added another search group for the escaped prisoners. They’ll find Bekn if he shows his face again.”
The multi-slate blinked again. Kylix ignored it this time, choosing the weight of the moment beside him over the reports waiting to be read, every decision heavy with worry he didn’t voice.
They still didn’t know who was responsible for Bekn’s escape, and they hadn’t found the man or his right-hand man anywhere, despite heavy patrols.
He stared at Mirel’s blond hair. Strands curled at his nape, giving him something fragile that made Kylix’s heart beat faster every time he looked at him.
“You hungry?”
Mirel turned and smiled. The space between them thickened.
Kylix’s hand caught his wrist, thumb pressing over the pulse until he felt it jump.
Beneath skin and bone, heat throbbed like a secret trying to break free.
His other hand slid to Mirel’s thigh, slow and deliberate, until his fingers curled just above the knee.
The car moved, but it felt still. Mirel’s breath hitched.
“Stop on the corner here and grab some breakfast for Mirel,” Kylix ordered.
He lifted Mirel’s hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to it.
Then he pulled him in, grin darkening. He leaned close, voice low.
“Eat fast, little darae,” he murmured. “Because while you’re feeding that pretty mouth, I’ll be thinking about how I’m going to taste it after. ”
“Kylix…”
The rest of the words were smothered in breath.
Kylix’s mouth caught his, devouring every sound before it formed.
His tongue traced the inside of Mirel’s lips, tasting him like something he meant to keep.
The kiss deepened until their breaths tangled, rough and wet, his hand sliding up the back of Mirel’s neck to hold him there, to make him take it.
Mirel yielded, half gasp, half want, until he found himself pulled close, settled on Kylix’s lap with no space left between them.
“Sir.”
Kylix snatched the napkin with fresh tiganos out of the driver’s hand and tore off a chunk with his teeth. Mirel smiled, then took a careful bite. And another, crawling closer onto Kylix’s lap until it only took him one last push and their stiff crotches were pressed together.
“Just watching you chew makes me happy.”
Mirel huffed with his mouth full, and Kylix leaned in, licking the crumbs from his lips before taking a bite himself.
“Hmm… it tastes nearly as good as you, baby.” It only took a few seconds to unbuckle his belt and wriggle free from his pants. Mirel, still chewing, looked down, face flushing when his eyes caught Kylix’s erection. Kylix tapped his hips. “Lift, my bonded. You don’t have to do anything else.”
Mirel rolled his eyes but obeyed. Kylix grinned as he slid down Mirel’s pants, fingers gliding over cool, smooth skin. He squeezed the perfect curve of his ass, then grabbed the bottle of lube he always kept in the car.
“You can keep on eating while I let you ride me. You don’t have to do anything.” He pressed a wet finger inside, smirking when Mirel flinched. “I’ll do all the work. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
He opened him slowly, one finger turning into two, scissoring until Mirel pressed back, seeking more friction.
“You like that, baby?”
Mirel nodded.
“Words.”
“Y-yes.” Mirel’s gaze met his, one ember eye smoldering while the other was pale and glazed with frost. His cheeks flushed, lips parted as he took in small puffs of air.
“Then moan for me, my bonded.” Kylix replaced his fingers with his cock. He didn’t slow down, just thrust inside with one hungry move. Mirel cried out, hips jerking, the rest of the tiganos forgotten.
“Good Light. Oh, fuck…”
“That’s right, little one. Now, ride your man. You’re the one in control.” That wasn’t true, but Kylix loved the way Mirel’s fear gave way to desire. Both drove him to thrust up harder, finding the rhythm that made Mirel break apart.
“Need you.” Mirel rocked faster, moaning as he tried to keep up with his own brutal pace.
“I know what you need.” Kylix’s hands gripped his waist, pushing him down, deeper.
Mirel howled.
Kylix smiled. “You want more, baby boy? Did I just hit you in the right spot?”
Mirel’s eyes flashed, both now blue, wide and iced. “Y-yes.”
Kylix moved faster, driving deeper, spurred on by the helpless sounds spilling from Mirel’s throat.
“That’s it, baby. That’s you begging. You beg so beautifully. You want me to stroke your cock, Mirel? You want me to make you come?”
Mirel trembled and nodded.
“Words, baby.”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?” Kylix grinned, teeth itching with the feral need to conquer. “Please, Kylix. Please, amano.”
Kylix stilled at the word. His chest filled with something sharp that burst into a thousand pieces, lifting him. Anything, he thought. “Anything, baby. For you.”
He grabbed Mirel’s cock, flushed and wet at the tip, and matched the rhythm of their thrusts. Mirel’s moans grew louder, each movement rougher, until Kylix couldn’t look away. He wanted to see it all, the desire, the frost in his eyes, the hunger that mirrored his own.
“My Dariux boy. Come for me.”
Kylix stroked faster, swiping the slick over his thumb and using it to lube his shaft. Sweat prickled at his temples, but he didn’t care. He wanted all of him.
When Mirel came, he was tipped over the edge. His orgasm ripped through him, making his toes curl and his head tip back. He howled, stunned by the intensity, then smiled when Mirel collapsed on top of him, panting, sweating, wet and laughing.
“I was that good, hmm?”
“You are arrogant.” Mirel dropped a kiss on his mouth.
“And I always speak the truth.”
“Maybe. And maybe not.”
“Here. Let me clean us.” Kylix grabbed the tissues and cleaned up their releases. Then he looked up. “Why are we not driving?”
A nervous cough. “We’ve arrived, sir. About half an hour ago.”
The driver didn’t look back.
“And you waited,” Kylix said dryly.
“Yes, sir.”
Mirel stifled a laugh behind his hand.
Kylix pulled his shirt back on and adjusted Mirel’s collar, then pressed his lips to his temple. “Next time, I’ll keep my mind on the mission,” he said dryly.
“You won’t.”
Kylix grinned. “True. Get some rest before we go in.”
The car’s windows dimmed. City lights bled through the tint in soft gold lines. Kylix leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The hum of the engine matched their breathing until the quiet steadied.
The next morning, the city burned pale gold. The hover car hummed low as Kylix sipped his coffee, watching steam coil from the rim. Mirel yawned softly beside him, then looked down at his multi-slate as a message appeared. “Cyprian’s coming,” he said. “He’ll meet us at the hospital.”
Kylix nodded. “Good. Tell him we’ll be there soon.”
His multi-slate pinged with a new alert. He read it once, expression sharpening. Yure’s voice came through a second later, clipped and urgent. “Commander, you need to come in. We’ve cracked the stream.”
Kylix’s jaw flexed. “Change of plan. We go to the office first.”
The car banked toward the Luminary Tower. Inside, the lights were already on and voices echoed from the main hall. Kylix strode through the doors, Mirel close behind.
Kylix’s gaze flicked from guard to camera, cataloguing exits with a soldier’s precision. Every reflection in the glass walls could hide a weapon, every shadow a watcher. His hand brushed the small of Mirel’s back, protective without thought, a claim and a shield all at once.
The office buzzed with subdued energy. Rows of sleek black desks lined the glass walls, each glowing with blue holographic displays.
Officers in gold-and-black uniforms typed commands into floating interfaces, their faces washed in shifting light.
The air smelled faintly of synth-coffee and the sharp tang of machinery.
Steam rose from cups beside stacks of reports, and quiet conversation murmured through the room until Kylix entered.
Whispers cut short. Chairs straightened.
A ripple of deference passed across the room, the gold insignias catching the light as people stood a little taller.
Eyes followed Mirel with open curiosity, some wary, some intrigued, as if trying to understand what bound him to their commander.
The hum of concealed machinery vibrated faintly through the floor, a heartbeat beneath the order.
It made Mirel uneasy, and Kylix felt it, the bond tightening in response.
He shifted closer, his body angling subtly between Mirel and the nearest group of officers.
One of them lingered with a stare too long, and Kylix’s eyes snapped to meet it, sharp and warning. The officer looked away at once.
Inside that silence, the weight of Kylix’s power settled like a storm waiting for release.
Yure rose from his station at the far end. “Commander, over here.”
Kylix’s tone was controlled, low. “Report.”
Yure swallowed, motioning them over. “You’ll want to see this.”
As they approached, the lights dimmed. The consoles flared alive, light rippling cold across Yure’s face. He typed a command, and the Attica stream filled the main display.
The air dropped colder. The holo shimmered and then exploded into motion, fragments of corridors, locked doors, the staccato pulse of data bleeding into sound. A heartbeat hid beneath the static.
Then the camera steadied.
A massive door filled the screen, its metal warped and scarred.
The image refocused, revealing rows of cages lit by sterile white pulses.
Inside, people sat huddled together on metal floors, thin and trembling, their eyes wide and hollow from the glare.
One lifted a hand to the glass, pressing until it fogged from their breath.
Another shifted behind her, too weak to stand, the movement slow and ghostlike under the flicker of the light.
Mirel flinched. A sound escaped him, quiet but raw. The entire office froze.
Mirel took a step closer, breath fogging the edge of the display. His voice came rough, almost unwilling. “I’ve seen him before.”
Kylix turned. “Who?”
Mirel pointed at the frozen frame, at a young man with pale-grey eyes who was staring through the glass. “Him. The frost showed me his face last night. In the kitchen. I thought it was just—” He stopped, swallowing. “It wasn’t. He’s alive. The frost didn’t make him up. It remembered him.”
The room went still again. Even the consoles seemed to pause.
Kylix’s gaze flicked from the screen to Mirel. “You’re saying the frost saw what the cameras didn’t.”
Mirel nodded once. “It’s showing us what’s hidden. Like it knows where to look.”
Kylix stepped forward, jaw tightening. “Pause it.”
The frame caught on a girl’s face, her eyes wild, a guard’s visor flashing beside her, a sigil scorched into the metal wall. Kylix’s reflection multiplied in the glow, a dozen versions of him staring back with fury.
“Those monsters.”
Yure’s voice broke. “Sir… this isn’t archived. This is live.”
Kylix froze. The image burned across his mind, the same loading bays, the same smokestacks over the factory district his squads cleared last cycle. They’d walked those corridors, run every scan, sworn the place was clean.
He keyed his com. “Vandor.”
A crackle. “Commander.”
“We were there. How the hell did we miss it?”
A pause, short and jagged. “We found nothing, sir. Heat-readings were cold, all signals dead.”
Kylix’s jaw tightened. “Then they buried it deeper.”
The room held still, the feed still playing, the cages still breathing on-screen.
Kylix’s voice turned steel. “Find the coordinates.” He began typing, the authority in him filling the room like a drawn blade. “And prepare a team.”
He turned to Mirel, his eyes softening only for him. “You’ll leave with Cyprian’s driver. Go to the hospital and wait for me there.”
Mirel hesitated, the air between them taut with the hum of the bond.
Kylix brushed a gloved thumb along Mirel’s jaw. “I’ll handle this,” he said quietly, the promise heavy and absolute. “You’re safe. I’ll make sure of it.”
Around them, the office hummed again, mechanical and alive. The Luminary’s heart beat cold, but every pulse of it answered to Kylix’s will, and his need to protect what was his.