Page 24 of Burning Ice
He turned without another word, but left the door open.
For a moment, Mirel just lay there. He stared through the glass ceiling at the darkening sky. Stars and planets looked back at him. He wondered if he could see Varethis from here, the planet where he’d grown up. It didn’t matter now. He’d been caught by Kylix Zephyranth and was alive at his mercy only.
Slowly, he dragged himself out of the tub. The orgasm had left him feeling more alive than he’d felt in a long time. No one had ever touched him like that. In a way that had been pleasantfor Mirel too. Nothing like Kylix had touched him, had cherished his body, had given him pleasure.
Where was he going to take him?
He dressed in the black jumpsuit Kylix had left him. It was black and close-cut, soft against the skin but heavy enough to remind him who it belonged to. Buttons ran from throat to waist. They were small, dark-gold, as if meant to be undone one by one. The collar framed his neck like a hand. When Mirel fastened it, he felt Kylix watching.
“Come, Mirel. Eat.”
A plate waited on the table with bread, fruit, and slices of roasted fig. Mirel hesitated. Hunger won. He sat and reached for the bread, only for Kylix to take it first, tear it in half, and offer him a piece by hand.
“Still hungry?”
Mirel bit down, throat working. Kylix watched the movement, thumb resting near his jaw to catch a stray crumb.
“Good,” he said softly. “You’ll need strength.”
Mirel chewed in silence. The act of eating under that gaze felt intimate, almost indecent.
Kindness, he thought, could be another form of cruelty. Yet he leaned toward it all the same.
“We’ll be going to the graveyard afterward. See if the old man can give me the answers you won’t.”
The holo screen flickered. A blur of motion cut through the glass walls. Kylix swore under his breath. “What now, Vandor?”
“I couldn’t stop him,” Vandor’s voice came through the feed.
“Who?”
A loud bang hit the door.
“Good Light.” Kylix’s jaw tightened. “What’s he doing here?”
The door slid open. Vandor stood there, shoulders squared, half blocking the way before he was pushed aside by someone Mirel already knew.
Tall. Blond. Eyes the color of amethyst. He stared up at the newcomer, a half-eaten piece of bread in hand. Then, before he could think the better of it, he shoved the plates on a side table as if hiding the evidence.
Helianth Zephyranth stepped into the Waltr, those sharp eyes locking on his cousin. “There’s been a prison break.”
Kylix’s stance changed, the calm stripped away. “You should be in bed, recovering. You’re in no state for field work.”
“You don’t get it.” Helianth’s gaze flicked to Mirel. His mouth opened, then closed again. “Who’s that?”
Kylix moved between them.
“Oh,” Helianth said lightly, grin tugging at his mouth. “I see. Sorry to interrupt your quiet evening, cousin, but Bekn’s among the ones who escaped.”
“What?”
The word cracked sharp. Mirel flinched at the sound. He knew that name. He was the man who’d once taken both Cyprian and Helianth hostage before Mirel had frozen the scene himself.
“It’s bad,” Helianth went on. “We don’t know how, but it happened an hour ago.”
“Why wasn’t I contacted?” Kylix checked the slate on his wrist.
“Maybe because your multi-slate was on mute?” Helianth’s amusement lingered, even here.
