Page 67 of Burning Ice
Mirel didn’t answer. His throat moved, a silent swallow.
Kylix’s mouth curved. “Don’t bother. Everyone on this planet knows who you belong to now. The Imperial broadcast confirmed it this morning, the Prince’s chosen.” His voice deepened, silken and cruel. “You were named mine before the whole Empire. I claimed you in public. You think I’d let my claimed one vanish into dirt?”
Mirel’s breath caught.
Kylix leaned closer, voice a low burn. “You’re trembling. I like that. You’re still trying to decide if it’s fear or heat. Let me help you.”
He spoke like a promise, a threat made intimate. “If I’d caught you running tonight, I’d have pinned you to the ground right there in the frost. I’d have dragged my hand through your hair and made you open that pretty mouth. I’d have whispered every filthy thing I’m going to do to you until you forgot your own name. Until all you could say was mine.”
Mirel shuddered, hands fisting on his knees. His pulse beat hard under pale skin.
Kylix’s eyes tracked it, hungry. “You see? You already know what I’ll do. I’ll take you apart slow. Kiss you until you shake. And when I’m done, you’ll understand what it means to be claimed by me.”
The tremor that went through Mirel was unmistakable. Kylix didn’t know if it came from terror or want. Either way, it thrilled him.
He smiled, leaning back, voice steady again. “Good. You understand.”
Outside, the city lights thinned. The estate’s perimeter gates loomed, red lamps sweeping the car as it passed through. Kylix’s final words came quiet, almost tender. “When we get home, you’ll learn what it means to stay.”
They entered the estate without a word. The moment the door sealed behind them, Kylix turned, warmth radiating off him in waves. He didn’t wait. He dragged Mirel’s coat from his shoulders, stripping the shirt free, fingers burning where they touched.
“Up,” he said. “Now.”
Mirel hesitated, breath shaking as he tried to speak. “You’re angry. But I had to see. You don’t care what I feel.” His voice cracked, the words defiant even through the tremor. Kylix saw the flare in his eyes and felt the heat of it, the challenge aimed straight at him.
Kylix’s laugh came low, amused and dangerous. “Your feelings?” He moved closer, the sound soft as a threat. “I know your feelings. I can smell them.” His hand caught Mirel’s jaw, thumb brushing over the edge of his throat. “Fear, desire, need, it’s all the same to me.”
Mirel flinched but didn’t look away. “I’m not afraid,” he stammered, the last word breaking as his pulse leapt.
Kylix’s smile widened. “Of course you are.” He let his palm drift lower, feeling the tremor in Mirel’s body, the stuttered breath against his chest. The sound pleased him. It fed something primal.
But I like you better when you fight.
The thought burned through him, Dariux heat tightening across his hands as he watched the reaction, cataloguing every breath, every twitch as his own.
Mirel swallowed hard, eyes bright. “You can’t just?—”
Kylix cut him off with another quiet laugh, almost gentle in its cruelty. “I can. And I will. Now move.”
Mirel obeyed, hesitant but burning, each step swallowed by the quiet hum of the corridor. Kylix followed close behind, every inch of him a storm barely contained.
When they reached the landing, Kylix caught his wrist and spun him, pressing him against the wall. The sound that escaped Mirel was small, startled. Kylix’s mouth found his ear.
“You know what went through my mind when Moargan texted me about you being in the graveyard?” he murmured. The memory still stung, fury and relief tangled in his chest, sharp enough to taste. He’d imagined the frost swallowing him whole before he’d even arrived. “You know how scared I was to find you half-dead?”
Mirel shook his head, breath ragged. “I didn’t mean?—”
“Yes, you did. And now you’ve learned you don’t belong there anymore. You belong with me.”
“No… I—” He didn’t get further. Kylix kissed the words from his mouth as he pulled him fully into the bedroom. He dragged Mirel over the threshold, the door sliding shut behind them.
The bed caught the corner of Mirel’s leg. He staggered, then righted himself. Frost bled from his skin and died in the air. The room pulsed between warmth and chill, steam blooming, glass of the sconces fogging, a fight between elements.
“You think the cold will save you? I’ll teach it who owns you first.” Kylix pushed him onto the bed with a satisfied smirk, watching him fall back against the sheets before following him down. His palms burned where they met Mirel’s chilled skin, Dariux energy humming through his veins.
Mirel’s chin lifted, voice trembling but defiant. “You think you can scare me?”
“I sure hope I do.” Kylix laughed when he tried again to shove him off, nails scraping the front of his shirt. The sound of fabric and breath filled the space.
