Page 81 of Burning Ice
Mirel laughed, tipping his head back until both eyes flared gold. Kylix went still, eyes fixed on him. Heat moved in his gaze. The look alone made Mirel flush.
“You know,” Kylix said, voice low, “I really like when you talk.”
Mirel’s gaze met his again, still bright with humour. “Why?”
“Words are the gate to your heart.” His thumb traced the line of Mirel’s jaw, command disguised as care. “And you have so many questions. I can see them. I’ll answer every one. But you know my biggest question? You can freeze a street and still choke on a word.”
“Professor Kiba says it will get better, with time and trust.”
“So you trust me now?”
“I guess I do.” Mirel pressed thumb and finger together. “A little bit.”
“Cheeky fucker.” Kylix caught his arm and drew him down onto his chest, their faces close. “Good thing I’m in a generous mood. After all, we’re going to be bonded forever tomorrow. What else do you want to know?”
Mirel blinked, confusion softening his features. “What’s going to happen tomorrow?”
“That’s when our bonding takes place, little darae.”
Mirel blinked again, the faint pout deepening his hunger. “D-do I have to go in the arena? I don’t want to go there.”
Kylix shook his head and brushed away the ice pearl that had been a tear. “No. It will be at the Green Mansion. It’s private, meant only for the Dariux. Even my parents will come.”
“P-parents?”
“Yes. I don’t see them often. They live near the Verdant Reaches,” Kylix said. “It’s quiet there. Green lakes, forests that steam in the mornings. My mother and father oversee most of Helion’s museums. They travel off-world to find new artists. My father paints, my mother curates.”
“Are they Dariux?”
“Yes. They carry the same fire element.” Kylix drew from the cigarette and let the smoke fade.
Kylix’s hand brushed the back of his neck, a steadying weight. The touch made Mirel’s throat close, but he didn’t pull away. The warmth helped him find the words that had stayed buried too long.
Mirel lowered his gaze. “Ice is what makes people leave. M-my family didn’t want me. They sent me back to Helion when I was twelve. I had nowhere to go. When I tried to steal from Geron, he caught me, saw I was homeless, and took me to the graveyard. Said I could work for him, run errands, sleep near the sheds. It felt safe. The hospital lights were always on. Mama was there.”
“How did you know she was there?”
“The ice would c-come. It showed me faces. Places. And I just knew. I waited, hoping one day I could see her face.”
“How did you survive for so long? You were there for ten years.”
“I was a good shadow. The days were easy enough. The nights weren’t.”
The Waltr’s glass clicked as it cooled, the sound small but sharp. Heat and cold breathed against each other, the air heavy with what neither of them had said yet.
Kylix paused. “Why?”
“Wastelanders hunt at night.”
He stilled.
“For food. For anyone weaker than them.” Mirel looked away.
“And did they find you?”
He didn’t answer.
Kylix’s voice darkened. “Did they hurt you?”
