Chapter 26
“How did it go?” Kylix asked when the door of the car closed behind Mirel.
His bonded looked troubled. His eyes had taken on their usual ember irises, and he smelled of rain and sterilized air, the rattle of the hospital still on his skin. Kylix couldn’t help but close the distance, palm finding Mirel’s.
Next to him, Mirel sighed at the comfortable thrum. He sagged back against the headrest. “Good.”
“Was she already waiting for you?”
“Yes.” Mirel’s lips curled as if the memory was brought back up. “She’s sweet. So innocent. I can’t believe how brutally Ludo treated her until she ended up in the hospital because of him.”
“That’s why you finished him,” Kylix said with a proud smile.
“I did. I hated him. Everything he stood for. As soon as I discovered Ludo Fandi was my father, I wanted him dead.”
Kylix’s nostrils flared. It had been a crazy few hours, and this was exactly the sort of distraction he needed. “Yeah? Tell me about that desire, baby.”
Mirel rolled his eyes, then lifted his fingers from his thigh. “Amano.”
It came out as a chime, adorable. Kylix kissed his pout away until Mirel gave in, soft lips melting against his. He was right though. Now was not the time, even if Kylix hated to acknowledge it. He clasped their hands together. “I don’t want you out on the streets anymore, Mirel.”
“Is it the cages? I’m sorry, I should have asked before. It’s just …” Mirel sighed, brushing his forehead. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.” It came out as a growl. Kylix wanted to change all their plans. He wanted to take Mirel home, to their Waltr, make him his, over and over again under the stars. But that would have to wait.
The hum of the car deepened, a steady pulse beneath their silence.
Mirel had gone quiet in a way that wasn’t tiredness.
His gaze fixed somewhere far beyond the window, jaw set, fingers tracing the seam of his sleeve like he was replaying something.
The hospital still clung to him. Kylix could smell the sterilized air, the cold electricity of it, the ghosts of machines that refused to die.
“You okay?” Kylix asked.
Mirel hesitated. “At the hospital … the frost showed me something again. An arrow. It led me to her.”
“To who?”
“To the Royal Consort, Norma Zephyranth. My entire life, she was a myth. Now I realize she was real. So beautiful.”
Kylix’s mouth curved faintly. “I’m glad. It means Milanov trusts you. Norma helped Cyprian find Helianth. Do you feel she’s reaching out to you now?”
Mirel looked uncertain. “I don’t know. I never understand what the frost means until it’s over. It’s changing lately. It forms shapes I don’t recognize. Once it showed me a hand.”
Kylix’s brows drew together. “A hand?”
“Pressed against the ice. Like it was trying to push through.” Mirel’s voice dropped. “Sometimes it’s just movement under the surface, like something’s learning how to breathe. But I don’t know if it’s mine.”
Kylix studied him, eyes dark. “The frost remembers. Maybe it’s showing you what’s trapped inside it.”
“Then it remembers too much,” Mirel said softly.
“Or exactly enough,” Kylix replied, thumb tracing the edge of Mirel’s hand, a grounding spark of warmth against the cold.
“Fire amplifies frost, frost clarifies fire,” he said quietly. “You’re seeing more because you’re connected. That’s how Milanov said it begins. One by one, the blood wakes up.”
Mirel nodded, half in awe, half afraid. “Then I guess it’s starting.”
“It is,” Kylix said. “Which means from now on, you won’t be going out alone. You’ll always be guarded.”
Mirel reached out then, hesitantly but unmistakably.
His hand cupped Kylix’s jaw softly. Kylix growled, incisors itching.
When Mirel produced a similar sound, his eyes widened just a fraction before he dove in and took Mirel’s mouth in a brushing kiss.
Teeth clashed, lips brushed, tongues twirled.
Heat crept up between them, entwining in a sizzling dance as their mouths continued to play.
“I mean it. I need you safe, darae,” Kylix murmured against Mirel’s trembling lips. His bonded was panting. “We first go to Moargan’s and discuss our plan of action. It might take long, or not, depending on what we find. Or what finds us.”
Mirel shivered. He didn’t object.
“Good boy.” Kylix brushed his knuckles over Mirel’s lips, rubbing them harsher just to toy with the soft flesh. Mirel’s pupils grew bigger and his nostrils flared, but he didn’t turn away. He let Kylix take what he wanted with trust that grew by the day, a trust Kylix wasn’t even sure he deserved.
The car passed the graveyard and Mirel stared outside, longingly.
But the Wastelands looked deserted. There was no trace of the old man who’d defended him.
Kylix didn’t have it in him to stop him from wanting to find.
After all, he’d lived in the Wastelands too long, had once called it home.
He still couldn’t believe that his fated mate, his true love, had lived between abandoned graves, like dirt.
As the car turned toward Zephyr’s outer ring, Mirel’s skin prickled, the same electric pull he’d felt in Norma’s room, as if distance couldn’t quiet her.
“From now on, you’ll go to college with guards. They’ll bring you, take you home and will shadow you on campus.”
Mirel didn’t answer.
“They’ll only listen to me.” Kylix watched as Mirel’s shoulders tightened, chest fluttering when he finally turned around, slowly, hesitantly, but unmistakably stubborn.
Kylix grinned. “Yes, little darae? Anything to say to that?”
Mirel pursed his lips, swallowed, then gave a sharp shake. Kylix’s smile was euphoric. He leaned in and brushed his lips over Mirel’s mouth, so sweet, especially when he was stubborn yet compliant, trusting. “Thank you,” he breathed.
Moargan’s mansion sat at the edge of Zephyr, white stone and glass hidden behind trees. The gates opened when the hover car approached. Luminary guards tipped their heads when they recognized Kylix. “They’re already here,” he hummed. He got out and opened Mirel’s door. “Come on.”
Inside, the kitchen was dim. The stove was empty.
Mirel remembered Aviel and Theo back in the hospital but refused to ask anything.
Cyprian wasn’t there either, but Moargan was, pacing restlessly behind the bar.
A set of holo-screens had been installed.
Luminary guards were posted against the wall.
Only the holo light moved, an eerie blue that spilled over the counters like a second heartbeat.
Yure sat behind the floating screen, back hunched, eyes too wide for the glow washing over his face.
His fingers hovered over the keys but didn’t touch.
The holo light sliced across his skin, making it look translucent, veins like wire.
Vandor leaned against the stove, arms folded, the golden lines of his Luminary uniform dulled by the cold light.
He didn’t speak. Helianth was on his multi-slate when they entered.
He gave Kylix a little wave, and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Tension filled the silence. “Drink?” Moargan threw them a beer. Kylix caught both bottles mid-air, opened them, then handed Mirel one.
“Anything new?”
Yure sighed. “The code keeps on disappearing. It’s fucking frustrating. So far, that door has opened once, and I’m not even sure what I did to get it to do that. It just … has its own mind.”
Behind them, Aviel and Theo made their way in.
The clunking sound of chains followed, whispers, wet kisses, then the light above the stove was switched on as Aviel started cooking.
Kylix looked up, their eyes met, fire crackled between them, a silent, mutual understanding they’d always had. Their element thrummed.
“Shit.”
“Yure?” Moargan stopped pacing. “What is it?”
They all stared at the screen, where the digital door had opened. The holo’s hum deepened, creating a sound too low to belong to machines.
Before anyone could speak, a side window blinked open, columns of scrolling numbers, usernames, icons: hearts, knives, coins.
“What the hell is that?” Helianth murmured.
Yure’s face drained of color. “It’s a live chat. They’re voting.”
“Voting?” Moargan snapped.
“Who dies next,” Yure said. “Attica turned it into a game.”
“Look, bottom right.” Moargan pointed at the corner of the stream, where a watermark flickered:
A2: Live vote.
“Attica’s signature,” Yure muttered. “Every prisoner has a number. Every number has a price.”
“Yure,” Kylix repeated, sharper.
“It just …” Yure’s fingers finally touched the controls. The screen flickered, one, two, three beats, and then opened into tens of faces. Tens of pairs of eyes were staring straight out at them.
“… the prisoners,” Mirel gasped.
“Can they see us?” Helianth asked.
“I don’t know.” Yure lifted his hands from the keyboard. “But look, I’m not doing anything. It’s moving by itself.”
On screen, they passed the cages and the feed shifted to a white wall. Blood smeared across it. Chains lay discarded, some scarlet red. “Good Light,” Mirel whispered. The camera switched back to the prisoners. “Look behind them.” Kylix leaned in with a frown. “What is that?”
Yure zoomed in on the square metal boxes that sat behind the cages, plastered against the ceiling. “I’m not sure.”
“Can you click on it?”
Yure’s fingers ghosted above the keyboard, but before he could decide, the unmistakable voice of Bekn slid through the speakers, smooth as oil. “You shouldn’t have looked where you weren’t invited.”
Next to him, Helianth gasped. “What the actual fuck?” Moargan growled. The faces of the prisoners began to move, out of rhythm. Smiling. Sobbing. The holo adjusted itself, light crawling down the walls until the whole kitchen was a single glowing cage.
“Shut it down,” Aviel ordered.
“I can’t.” Yure clicked frantically on the keyboard. His commands bled into static. “It’s overriding my control. It’s—” The faces melted together, forming a single pale mask. Eyes opening. Mouth splitting.