Page 91 of Burning Ice
“Archer and Helianth went on a date last night.” Cyprian took another drink.
“Really?”
“Hmm. I’ve yet to receive details about how things went, but apparently they went for a walk through Umbral Park and then had drinks.”
The side door clicked. Moargan and Helianth came in, easy as if they’d always been there.
Boots sounded in the hall. Kylix crossed into the light.
Kylix stepped closer. His hand found Mirel’s, palm to palm. The contact burned. The bond flared bright under their skin, a slow current climbing through their veins, fire threading into frost until the air around them seemed to hum. Mirel’s breath caught. He hadn’t touched Kylix since the night before, and the ache in his body answered before his mind could.
Kylix drew him in, pressed his mouth to Mirel’s temple, then lower, a brief kiss against the corner of his jaw. He inhaled, slow and deliberate, as if scent alone could confirm the bond stillheld. His voice came rough against Mirel’s ear. “I’m sorry I had to leave early. The riots haven’t calmed.”
Mirel leaned into him. “How did it go?”
Kylix’s jaw tightened. “They thought they’d found the prisoner. False alarm. He’s still out there.”
Helianth leaned his shoulder against the counter, bottle in hand. “I can ask my guys to give the south of Zephyr another sweep.”
“He’s got to be somewhere,” Kylix muttered. His eyes stayed on the multi-slate that buzzed on his wrist. “Where the fuck is he hiding?”
Moargan opened the fridge and pulled out a few beers. “What about the online breach? Any trace?”
“If there was, you’d have heard it from me,” Kylix said. He took one of the beers, twisted the cap, and shook his head. “The team’s still working on it.”
The air carried a tension that hadn’t been there moments before, sharp and electric. Mirel could feel it run through Kylix’s hand and into his own – the pulse of duty layered over the bond.
Helianth exhaled, long and slow. “To the quiet before the noise, and to bonded men.”
Cyprian reached beneath the counter and lifted a small carved box, black and white marbled with veins of silver. “From all of us.” Moargan nodded, Helianth grinned. “A proper gift for the bonded couple.”
Inside, on a nest of red cloth, lay a sphere divided cleanly in half, one side frozen clear as glass, the other smoldering with a soft ember light. Where the halves met, a faint shimmer pulsed, a living seam that never stilled.
“Fire and ice,” Moargan said. “Joined, not extinguished.”
“Keep it near,” Helianth added. “It will hum when you’re apart.”
“And quiet when you’re together.”
Kylix caught Mirel’s eye, the look brief but soft, a silent thank-you shared between them before his mouth curved in a wry half-smile. Mirel’s laugh slipped out, quiet and human, breaking the solemn air.
He twisted the seam. The sphere opened on a hidden hinge. Inside lay a simple metal ring on a leather thong, flat-edged, hammered, the surface marred with small lines that, when tilted to the lamp, showed shapes, a map’s idea of a coastline or a river’s. Not gold. Not soft. Meant to be worn and not minded.
“It’s not much,” Cyprian said, voice gone a little rough. “But I want you to know how happy I am to have found you, Mirel. And that you are now not just my family, but also Moargan’s. So.” He shrugged. “Welcome to us. To being ours. And welcome to having the joy of two lovers who are cousins. Very efficient for nights out.”
“Blasphemy,” Moargan said blandly, stealing Cyprian’s glass and draining it. “Also, correct.”
“Nights out?” Kylix pressed Mirel closer, and his mouth, pressed against Mirel’s ear, made him shiver. “I won’t let my bonded go out. I want him at home, waiting for me, always ready.”
Cyprian’s eyes widened. “Now I understand why you wouldn’t answer my earlier question. I guess I was right.”
Around them, the others grinned. Mirel touched the sphere. It was cool like a coin, stubborn like something that had already decided it would outlast them all. He didn’t try to say thank you. The word would have been too small. For a long time he hadn’t been given anything that wasn’t taken or traded. The weight of it sat strange in his chest, soft and painful in a way he didn’t understand. He didn’t know what to do with a thing freely offered, with hands that reached toward him instead of away. It felt like being seen. He traced his finger over the cool materialand let the sphere lay lightly in his palm. It sat there as if it had always known the way.
Kylix’s hand wrapped around his. The sphere shivered between their palms, a faint sound rising like breath caught in crystal, light flashing where fire met frost. The pulse steadied, humming low as if it recognized them both. It felt heavy and warm. Possession without apology. Mirel’s hand sparked, a thin sheen of ice coating their joined wrists. The sphere was silent, but his palm wasn’t. It thrummed, and a shaky breath left Mirel’s lips.
They finished their drinks.
Kylix reached for his multi-slate when it buzzed against the counter. The light from the screen flared across his jaw. He scanned the message, expression tightening. “They’ll keep working all night,” he murmured. “Yure’s still decoding.”
