Page 92
“You still feel me,” he murmured, leaning in closer. “Even now. Can you still feel me inside you?”
Ryneth took a step back, but the static flared again, sharper. “You don’t get to use that against me.”
“I’m not using it.” Daven’s voice dropped. “I’m reminding you.”
The sphere of energy between them pulsed.
“What are you feeling right now?” Daven asked.
Ryneth swallowed. His throat worked once before the words pushed free. “You scare me.”
The words tasted sweeter than they should have.
Daven’s engineered instincts, created for dominance and display, leaned toward it at once. The part of him Helion had made. The part trained for Aureates, for spectacle, for the kind of cruelty this planet polished until it looked like tradition.
But beneath that, deeper, something else moved.
Something fierce. Something fucking certain.
“Do I scare you, or do you want me?”
Ryneth’s eyes flashed. “You corner me.”
“I stand where I choose.”
“You could have told me last night, but you didn’t even warn me. You used my little brother to put me where you wanted.” He ran a hand through his blond strands, yanking at the ends. “You should have told me.”
“And risk you refusing me in front of the entire planet?”
“You think I really could have? While being in your custody, trapped in this penthouse with all these guards swarming the building?”
Daven’s jaw tightened, ignoring the mention of guards. He preferred the word custody. “Whatever you want, I’ll bend the world for it.”
Ryneth flushed. “No. That’s not how this works. You don’t get to walk into my life and own me.”
Daven stepped forward and pressed him back against the wall. Their bodies aligned, heat crowding the space between them as his hand slid to Ryneth’s hip. “That’s where you’re wrong. Every inch of you belongs to me. After tonight, it won’t be just your body. It’ll be your pulse. Your power. Your soul.” His thumb dug in slightly. “No? You don’t believe me?”
Ryneth didn’t answer. He just stared at him, mouth tight, pulse hammering beneath Daven’s palm while the static around them began to dim.
Daven felt the exact moment it happened and smiled to himself. “Then let me show you what I got from Düren.”
Ryneth went still. “What?”
“From the hospital,” Daven said, already reaching for his multi-slate. “Want to see?”
Ryneth’s fingers fisted in his shirt. “If you’re lying…”
“I’m not.” He lifted the slate and activated the image.
A boy sat in a hospital bed, smiling at the camera, giving a thumbs up. Dark hair was brushed away from his eyes. An IV was connected to his veins.
Ryneth made a broken sound. “Light…Tavi. It’s him. You—he—” He looked up at Daven, eyes impossibly silver. His wet blond lashes clung together. “You talked to the doctors?”
“Yes. He’s stable.” Daven flicked to another image of Tavi sleeping. “He’s got new specialists. New equipment. Baby, his treatment is secured.”
“Did you talk to him?” Ryneth whispered.
“Yes.”
