Page 127 of Burning Ice
“Well, we’ll soon find out. They’ve all been taken to the hospital. Zimeon himself is involved, the old dog,” Helianth said, mingling in.
Kylix’s lips brushed over Mirel’s earlobe, his arm tightening around his waist. “Are you worried, little darae?”
“Look, Kylix. Look what Cyprian made.” Mirel felt Kylix’s dark hair brush past his temple as the Imperial Prince leaned in.
“Hm. Remarkable. Why Ryneth?”
“She felt him…and you.”
They all looked up at Aviel, who stood smug with a plate of hot tiganos in his hand. He offered one to Helianth. “Next time you say that Archer bakes the best ones on Helion, I’ll ban you from this kitchen.”
Moargan whistled. Helianth grinned, mouth full. “Maybe you’ll serve us something edible tomorrow, chef.”
Aviel rolled his eyes as the room broke into laughter once more, then held a tiganos out in front of Cyprian until his brother took a bite. “Rude. But I guess I can’t judge a man who’s just trying to mark his territory.”
Helianth snorted. “If you ban me, who’s going to tell you when you’ve over-salted them again?”
Aviel raised a brow. “I never over-salt. You just have weak taste buds.”
Moargan laughed. “That’s rich, coming from the man who nearly burned the stew last week.”
Aviel tilted his head, unbothered. “And yet you still ate three bowls.”
Helianth tossed him a wink. “Only because Archer wasn’t here to save us.”
“What do you mean, she felt him—and you?” Mirel asked. He was still staring at the drawing, awareness crawling through his spine like frost.
Aviel smirked. “You don’t need the answer to that. Kylix, take your darae home. He looks even paler than usual, the pretty thing.”
Mirel felt Kylix’s anger flare. He placed his palm over the one around his waist. The bond thrummed. “Yeah, I think you’re right. I think I am tired.”
Turning over his shoulder, he found Kylix’s dark eyes already pinned on his, laced with fire and worry.
Helianth grinned from the counter. “Better take him home before he melts on your arm, Kylix. He needs rest before tomorrow’s Aureate party.”
Kylix didn’t laugh. Mirel noticed how his silence thickened the air, quiet authority settling over the room as even the laughter knew to fade. He grabbed their things and guided Mirel out. Two Luminary guards followed as they stepped into the night.
The air outside was clean and sharp. City lights shimmered through the snow. Mirel and Kylix slipped into the car together. The doors shut with a soft hiss, sealing them into warmth.
For a while, they didn’t speak. The hum of the engine was the only sound. The space between them hummed low, charged with heat and restraint.
“I think Aviel was right.” Mirel slid closer until he sat between Kylix’s strong thighs, the prince’s chin resting on his head, arms wrapped tight around him. “I think she felt me. She went through Cyprian, so he could draw our location. She… saved us.”
Gratitude filled his chest, heavy and bright.
“No one ever saved me before,” he whispered. “No one ever thought I was worth it. They used to ignore me.” Tears turned to ice as they frosted mid-face.
“Sshh, little darae.” Kylix’s breath was warm. Mirel shivered, then melted against him.
“It’s been so long.” He gasped when Kylix hauled him up and turned him around, their thighs locking, faces close.
“No one will ever ignore you again,” Kylix said, brushing his hair back and cupping his head. He kissed away the tears at the corner of his mouth.
Mirel’s heart stuttered.
“Was it true?” Kylix’s voice was smooth but edged, irresistible. “About icing my crime scenes. About loving me before I even met you.”
Mirel’s cheeks flushed. “I?—”
