Page 29 of Burning Ice
Cyprian pulled back just enough for them to stare at each other. He smiled. “Exactly. Your blood. My blood. Our blood.”
Had he heard him?
Then Cyprian’s eyes caught the chain wrapped around Mirel’s wrists. “Why are you chained?” He looked up at Kylix. “Why is he chained?”
“Because I caught him stealing,” came the cool answer.
Cyprian frowned. “Stealing what?”
“Bread.”
Cyprian’s voice rose. “Bread? And you chained him like a dog for a loaf of bread? Had him arrested? Please don’t tell me you didn’t bring him to the prison.”
Kylix wrapped a hand around Mirel’s throat and pulled him flush against his chest. “Careful now. Unless you mean to question my integrity as Head of the Luminary.”
Cyprian huffed. “I mean to question my brother’s presence at your residence when I came over with Moargan. He was there, wasn’t he? Good Light, I should have listened to myself.”
A sudden burst of fire made the window burst. Kylix’s hand around Mirel’s throat turned to iron.
“He was arrested,” he hissed. “It is my duty as Head of the Luminary to ensure safety. I’m going to ask you once more, Cyprian, do you question my integrity?”
“Kylix.” Moargan’s tone cut in.
“No.”
Another window cracked to pieces. Fire licked against the wooden frames. Heat rolled from Kylix’s body before he could stop it, a surge too fast for breath. The air rippled, lamps flaring in answer to his pulse.
“Good Light, Kylix. I’ve never seen you like this,” Helianth cried, grabbing a cloth and slapping at the flames.
“That’s because he’s been lying,” Cyprian glowered. “You’ve been hiding him from us.”
“I was keeping him safe.”
“Safe?” Cyprian’s hand tightened on Mirel’s arm. “You kept my brother locked up and chained. You didn’t even tell me he was alive.”
“That’s because I didn’t know what he was. Not until now. Mirel isn’t very talkative.”
“...Mirel?” Cyprian’s face softened. “You were named after the light. Of course you are. Did Kylix hurt you?”
Mirel shook his head. “No.”
“My cousin wouldn’t hurt him,” Moargan bristled. “He might be a brute, but he wouldn’t hurt one of us.”
Cyprian gave a short, bitter laugh. “You know he would.”
The words hit like oil to flame. Kylix’s hand flexed, the air brightening with a low crack. Another burst of fire leapt to the walls, heat folding through the room. Chairs scraped. Someone’s cup tipped, dark coffee running across the counter. No one moved to clean it.
When Cyprian looked back at him, Mirel realized they had the same yellow-gold flare. Cyprian’s eyes filled. “Why didn’t you come sooner? Why didn’t you find me?”
The question struck like heat. Mirel’s throat closed. Kylix’s thumb brushed the hollow beneath his jaw, small, warning. He wanted to answer but words crowded behind his teeth, raw from disuse. The chain rattled once, sharp as punctuation while Kylix’s thumb stayed steady. He wished he could tell Cyprian that he had tried, that the city itself had swallowed his name before it ever reached his brother’s ears.
Mirel looked away, but a blush crept up his cheeks. He placed his hand on the one Kylix held on the chain, close to his hip. The touch made his pulse hitch. Kylix squeezed once, and Mirel pretended it was a quiet reassurance no one else could see.
“You saved us. Both of us.” More tears rolled down Cyprian’s cheeks. “And now you’re here. You’ve made me so happy.”
“M-me too, happy,” Mirel murmured. His throat felt dry. He’d never regretted giving up speech until now. In the graveyard there had been no need for words. Not until today. There were so many things he’d dreamed of telling Cyprian, how he’d longed to meet him, how much he’d missed him.
Golden lines crawled across Cyprian’s skin, bright veins lighting his arms and throat. The light spilled across the marble and glass, catching on Mirel’s pale hair while Cyprian’s breath caught and his eyes widened with wonder.
