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Milanov’s lip twitched. “I think they are. And I will tell Kylix to hold off his interrogations for now. He won’t like that, because we are on the clock, but I don’t want to force Ryneth’s mental state. That means I need you to be kind to him as well.”
If word got out that contract workers were being taken on Helion routes, the planet’s safety myth would crack overnight.
“Am I ever unkind?” Daven grinned.
His uncle clicked his tongue knowingly. “I won’t comment on that one. Vandor will also be guarding Ryneth.”
Daven opened his mouth to protest.
Fucking Vandor. That guy’s tongue was only made to lick Kylix’s fucking ass.
“I know you don’t like him, for the obvious reason, but he is a good, decent guard and a trusted member of our extended family.”
Daven bristled but was wise enough not to comment. Favorite or not, his uncle was still the Imperial.
Milanov smiled, pleased. “I’m glad that’s sorted. You’ll show Ryneth Helion life and the Academy. Make him feel at home.”
Daven hummed as he looked at the sleeping man, feeling a throb in his bones. His uncle’s trust felt like a crown. He eyed the hand that lay tucked onto the sheets. Long, fine-boned fingers decorated the silk sheets. “Did he not come here for work?”
“He did. Which means you’ll need to ease him into his new life gently.”
Gentle wasn’t Daven’s strongest suit, and his uncle knew it. Why he had decided to give Ryneth to him was a mystery.
Because that was what this was. Ryneth had been placed in his care. Given to him. Beautiful and breakable and now under his hand. And Daven had no intention of letting him go.
“Daven,” Milanov barked.
Daven jerked. Light, he had gotten carried away, his throbbing cock the living proof.
“Be good to him. And leave it to me and Zimeon to explain to him why he’s here and what he truly is.”
“Of course.”
“Good.” Milanov’s hand gave his shoulder a little squeeze, then walked toward the door.
Daven didn’t follow. He stayed by the bed and waited until the door closed shut. When they were finally alone, he allowed himself to release the rush of air he had kept and stared down at Ryneth’s sharp cheekbones and pale hair.
Beautiful.
Daven bared his incisors, the embedded gems catching the corridor light. They ached with a thrumming in his jaw. The need to possess the man’s attention was a physical ache he couldn’t explain and had never felt before. He wanted Ryneth to look at him and see nothing else.
Reaching out, his fingers stopped only at a hair’s breadth from Ryneth’s bared throat. He didn't care about the Academy. He only knew that he had pulled this creature from the dirt. Something had shifted, and he couldn't step back.
It should have been ridiculous. One rescue. One stranger. And still he stood there like something in him had already chosen.
Next time, he wanted those silver eyes open when Daven put his hands on him.
6
RYNETH
In the dark, Ryneth was back on the shuttle. Helpless, encased by cold metal. Hunted by the distorted voices of his captors. By those masks, the cages, the chaos of screaming prisoners and shouting captors…
The auction.
Ryneth opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Instead, the smell of blood filled his nostrils until he choked.
He saw Mara’s face, her hair lit by the kitchen light, and he wanted to cling to her, to what she’d represented, to a regret so heavy it made him fall even deeper.
