Page 78 of Burning Ice
“They love us, little darae,” Kylix whispered.
“But how?—”
“Heroes. They want heroes. Even if we take their future away, they need us to give meaning to their lives. And this is the punishment. Look at that little slut, look how he moans for it.”
Then Kylix thrust faster, circling Mirel’s leaking slit. Sparks crawled under Mirel’s skin.
“I can’t take more.”
“Good Light, Mirel, you’re perfection. Hot and tight, baby. Gonna fill you up. Gonna show you who you belong to.”
“Please.”
Their faces smeared into one shape in the glass, light and shadow, heat and frost.
Below, Daven came on a feral howl. Pulling back from the used body, he touched two fingers to the sand. Torches straightened and then the wind was brought back to life like a trained animal.
Kylix suckled Mirel’s neck, licking the marks he’d already made. “Good boy.” He traced a finger over Mirel’s swollen shaft. “Look at that eager cock, Mirel. Look how much it leaks for me. You can’t deny it any longer. You were made for violence. You were made for me.”
Hands and hips worked in sync as Kylix thrust rapidly. When he finally reached his peak, it felt like a warm, glowing relief the way it rushed through Mirel's core. He moaned and sighed, overtaken by pleasure, body trembling in Kylix's hold. He never wanted to leave those strong hands.
“You feel it. His element calling yours. He was raised to make dying look beautiful. So were you.”
Mirel’s heart stuttered. Frost and heat fought on the pane. Water beaded where they met and ran down in thin tracks. The world slowly returned.
Outside the booth, young Luminary soldiers crossed the corridor. Their laughter reached the door and flattened there. In the sand, Daven turned toward the Imperial box and bowed with a grace that had nothing soft in it.
Kylix shifted Mirel, his back to the frosted window. His embrace felt foreign and so good. Warm and cold, like they were made for each other. “Breathe, baby,” he whispered. “And let’s go home.”
Kylix stepped out first. His cloak settled against his back. Mirel obeyed. The smoke still clung to his skin. His mouth tasted like copper and fruit. Chanting rose through the stone in a long echo.
“Daven!”
It felt as if the planet itself was saying the name.
At the end of the hall the lounge stood open again. Daven crossed the far side with attendants at his shoulders, white uniform streaked with sand. Up close he looked younger than he had in the arena. The curve of his mouth held the contentment of a knife newly cleaned.
Even without wind he carried the room. Attention followed him as if the air still bent for him. Between his knees sat the Luminary guard Kylix had sent.
Kylix watched him with a face Mirel couldn’t read. “Our cousin enjoys his moment,” he said. “And you and I go home.”
They stepped back into light and mirrors. Moargan laughed and almost spilled his drink. Cyprian steadied his hand without looking down. Helianth bent closer to Archer and spoke a line that sent colour into Archer’s ears. None of it touched Mirel. He felt the pressure of Kylix’s palm at the small of his back. To the room it looked polite. To his skin it felt like ownership.
Guards opened the path to the lift. The last echo of the crowd rolled up the shaft as the doors closed.
The car dropped smooth through the estate’s throat. Mirel exhaled, shutting his eyes against the gold. The quiet thickened, warm and taut.
By the time the doors opened again, the echoes of the arena were gone, replaced by the soft hiss of vents and the cold promise of morning. Kylix’s hand tightened once at Mirel’s hip, a brief reminder of possession before the doors opened to the pale light ahead.
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.
