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Ryneth smiled before he could stop it. “That sounds more like you.”

Daven kissed him again, dragging his tongue over Ryneth’s lips before he turned and fired down the corridor without letting go of Ryneth’s wrist.

Vandor was still holding the far side of the corridor, firing in short, controlled bursts whenever someone broke cover. “Well,” he said dryly, dropping another rebel with a clean shot, “at least your boyfriend can shoot.”

Ryneth rolled his eyes.

“Not helping,” Daven grumbled. His golden eyes flashed as he looked at Ryneth. “Stay on my fucking left.”

Ryneth nodded, static still crackling over his fingers, and they moved together, shoulder to shoulder through the smoke.

But they barely reached the next corridor when Moargan called, “It’s over.”

Across the production floor, a man stood near the central corridor as if he had stepped out of nowhere. His curls hung damp around his face.

Ryneth stopped so hard his boots scraped against the metal.

He knew the man facing Theo.

From cold restraints, recycled air, and the sharp white light of a transport cabin. From a blond man leaning back in his seat and looking Ryneth over like he was cargo. Pretty in that cold, polished Helion way.

The memory slammed into him hard enough to turn his stomach. For one sick second, all he could hear was the hum of that shuttle again, helplessness crawling cold up his spine.

Then the man turned through the smoke, and Ryneth knew him at once.

Bekn Zaid, blond and terrifying, standing calm in the middle of blood and gunfire like none of it could touch him.

When Ryneth had first arrived on Helion, still fractured and raw, he’d seen Theo’s blond curls and pale face and felt that old panic before he realized he was wrong.

Now, with both of them in the same room, the resemblance was brutal. They had the same pale skin. The same gold curls that hung damp from the storm. That same sharp mouth.

They were brothers. Up close, there was no denying it now. But where Theo looked soft, Bekn looked cruel. Where Theo looked like something that had survived despite everything done to him, Bekn looked like that same beauty turned into a weapon.

The last of Attica’s rebels formed a loose line behind him.

Then Bekn’s gaze slid to Ryneth and his mouth curved. “Ah, there he is. Helion colors really suit you.”

Ryneth went cold all over.

You look good in Helion colors.

Did they dress you up for me?

I’ll come when it’s time.

The message crashed back into him so hard his stomach turned.

Beside him, Daven went still.

Ryneth felt the shift in him before he moved. One hand lifted toward Daven’s arm. “Not yet,” he said, barely getting the words out.

A sudden, vicious hatred surged through him, hot enough to drown out the old fear. Bekn had bought him. Had hunted him. Had turned him into something to collect. Ryneth wasn’t letting anyone take this from him.

Across the floor, Theo stepped forward.

His weapon never wavered, but Ryneth saw the way his chest rose too fast. The way his free hand shook once before he clenched it still. “Brother.”

Bekn snorted. “I stopped being your brother a long time ago.”