Page 60 of Burning Ice
Kylix’s voice dropped. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Yure’s fingers flew over the controls. “The code’s recursive. It reads our movements. Every time we run a scan, it changes pattern, like it’s responding.”
Kylix cut him off with a low growl. “I don’t need the lecture. Just tell me how we stop it.”
Yure shook his head. “We don’t. Not yet.”
“Keep at it,” Kylix said, voice cool. “If it’s vanishing, then it’s leading us somewhere. Don’t lose the thread.”
“Yes, sir.”
He turned toward the center of the room and stopped.
Aviel was already there, sprawled across one of the main chairs like he owned the place. His boots rested on the console, coat half-open, the heat of his presence filling the air before he spoke. He barked casual orders at the junior officers. “Come on, boys, get those chairs ready. Press conference starts any minute.” To Kylix’s disbelief, they obeyed. It took effort not to pull rank. Aviel smiled like he knew it.
Kylix stopped mid-step. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?”
Aviel didn’t look up. “Getting comfortable. You didn’t think I’d let you have all the glory, did you?” His grin was sharp, radiant. “Besides, who’s going to stop me?”
Theo stood quietly behind him, untouched by the orders, his hands clasped around a cable, light flickering across his face. The sight of the Luminary’s systems alive and shifting seemed to both terrify and draw him closer.
Kylix’s mouth twitched, equal parts irritation and reluctant amusement. “You’re not cleared for this level, Aviel.”
“Relax,” Aviel said, spreading his arms. “I’m just here for the show. Your little empire looks good under the lights.”
Officers moved around them, finishing preparations as the holo feed came to life.
Imperial Milanov’s image filled the holo wall. Gold light. Perfect composure. Zimeon stood at his shoulder. The Emperor’s calm held the room. Even the consoles seemed to dim, as if the system itself obeyed his rhythm. He spoke with the serenity of a man who believed obedience was love.
“Loyalty,” he said, “is the bond that keeps a city alive.”
A pause, perfectly measured. The words sank like a hook.
Kylix had heard that tone since childhood, the voice that made murder sound like order. The light on the wall gilded Milanov’s throat, and for a moment Kylix saw his own reflection beside the Imperial crest, caught inside another man’s script.
He could almost hear Mirel’s breathing again, that raw, uneven sound against his skin.Mine,Milanov said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.Our blood, our heirs, our future.
Around the room, officers straightened. A few even clapped. The sound rang false. Aviel watched in silence, grin thin as a knife, and Kylix understood the danger of it, the crowd wanted to believe this was romance, not politics. They wanted spectacle, not truth.
When Milanov’s gaze seemed to look straight through the holo feed, Kylix met it without blinking. He let the smile come slow. He’d play the part for now. But the moment the feed cut, he would decide what story survived.
“I am happy to announce the official claiming by Commander Kylix Zephyranth,” Milanov continued, each word precise. “An alliance of strength and legacy, one that binds our future to those who earn their place beside us.”
The image returned to Mirel for a beat that felt too long. Kylix’s jaw locked, heat gathering tight across his shoulders. The feed cut back to Milanov’s calm smile. Kylix remained in the back with his team, arms crossed, expression unreadable. For a fleeting moment, pride surged through him, sharp and quiet, asMilanov spoke his name. He let them laugh because he’d already won.
Aviel leaned forward, grin slicing through the noise. “So you went through with it,” he said. “No second thought? You really let Milanov make it official for the whole planet to see.”
Kylix’s jaw flexed but he didn’t answer.
Aviel’s grin lingered, colder now. “Guess the stories about fated mates weren’t just stories after all.”
One hand rested in the golden curls of Theo, who sat close beside him, wide-eyed and still.
The holo light flickered across Kylix’s face as the Imperial’s voice droned on, speaking of peace and victory. Around them, the team applauded on cue. Kylix didn’t move. The light reflected against his pupils as Yure’s earlier words echoed in his mind.
They’re watching us.
The thought tightened his chest. Unease crept through the quiet. Attica’s name ghosted through his mind, half warning, half curse.
