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“That’s it,” Daven said, voice breaking. “That’s it, baby.”

The sound of it went straight through Ryneth. He rocked down harder, breath breaking, cock trapped hot between them. Daven lost the rest of his control and thrust up from the bench, meeting him hard enough to make Ryneth gasp.

It didn’t last long after that. Daven came first with a low, wrecked sound, fingers digging into Ryneth’s hips as he held him down through it. The feeling of it tipped Ryneth right over the edge. He came with a sharp cry, body going tight, one hand flying to Daven’s shoulder while blue static snapped once across the wet tile.

For a second, neither of them moved. They just stayed there under the spray, breathing hard, Daven’s hands still locked on him like he wasn’t ready to let go.

Ryneth let out a breathless laugh. “Better?”

Daven tipped his head back against the tile, then looked at him with a dark, satisfied smile. “Much.”

He dragged Ryneth in for one hard kiss, then reached for the soap at last. “Now behave. We actually have to get dressed.”

They finished the shower without much talking after that, both of them quieter now, the edge taken off. By the time they stepped back into the bedroom, the apartment felt fully awake. Music still drifted in low from the kitchen. Somewhere deeper in the suite, Vandor was probably pretending not to notice they’d taken forever.

Getting ready was easy in a way Ryneth still wasn’t used to. Towels. Clothes laid out. Daven pulling on black and silver like it was second skin. Ryneth dressing beside him, still feeling a little loose in the limbs, still catching himself looking over whenever Daven moved.

At one point, Daven stepped in without a word and fixed Ryneth’s collar, thumb brushing once over the fading marks at his throat before smoothing the fabric back into place.

The touch lasted barely a second, but it still made something warm settle low in Ryneth’s chest.

They brushed their teeth shoulder to shoulder at the sink. Combed wet hair back. Said almost nothing. It didn’t feel awkward. It felt… normal. Which was dangerous in a different way.

By the time they made it into the kitchen, the tiganos had gone cold. Daven took one bite anyway, then poured them both more coffee. Ryneth leaned against the counter, cup warm between his hands, watching the city burn brighter beyond the glass.

“Walk me through it again,” he said after a moment, staring out at the city. “What do they expect from me at the Aureate?”

Daven glanced at him over the rim of his cup like he had been waiting for that question. Then he set the mug down and leaned back against the island beside him.

“You stay with me,” he said. “You stand where I tell you. You keep your head up. And whatever happens, you give them nothing they can read as fear.”

Ryneth looked at him. “That bad?”

Daven’s mouth curved, though there was barely any humor in it. “That obvious.”

He took another sip before he went on, quieter now. “The Aureate is half ceremony, half warning. Helion likes to see what protects it. The prisoners they bring out are the worst of what the city wants gone. The Imperial line handles it in public because that’s the deal. People sleep better when they see monsters die in the light.”

Ryneth’s fingers tightened slightly around the cup. “So it really is killing.”

Daven looked at him for a second, then nodded once. “Yes.”

There was no performance in him now. There was only Daven in his kitchen, coffee in hand, telling him the truth with that filthy mouth like he always did when he cared enough to let it show.

“You do not have to love it,” he said. “But you need to understand where you are standing.”

That settled heavier than the rest.

Ryneth knew what it meant to watch someone die. Düren had never turned it into a ceremony. There, violence had always been survival. Here, it came dressed in gold and glass.

Ryneth looked down into his coffee, then back out at the city. “And what do you want from me?”

Something shifted in Daven’s face then, subtle but immediate. He set his cup down. “I want you beside me. I want your head up. And if Bekn looks at you, I want him to understand exactly how wrong he was.”

Ryneth held his gaze. “That all?”

Daven’s mouth curved, but the look in his eyes didn’t. He stepped in close enough that the edge of Ryneth’s cup pressed lightly between them. “No,” he said quietly. “I want Helion to see you and understand you’re not a thing that happened to me.” His hand closed around the back of Ryneth’s neck, steady and warm. “You’re what I chose.”

Heat moved through Ryneth so fast it stole his breath. “You said you want Bekn to understand he was wrong. Wrong about what?”