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If only he’d taken the Kassa job; then he’d still be home. He’d still be able to protect Tavi and the other boys.

Do you miss me?

His voice lingered in an echo that seemed to bounce off the inside of his brain. The words drove him crazy.

Because I miss you.

He tried to reach for Tavi, but his fingers were lead. Every time he pushed toward the light, the static under his skin bucked. It was a raw sting that forced him back into the black. His ribs throbbed with every breath. He was afraid to open his eyes. He didn’t know if he was back in the spaceship or lying on a floor. He feared his captors were still there, waiting for him to wake so they could finish the job.

Then something swirled around him, lifting him from the darkness. It was weightless, invisible to touch, but surprisingly strong. It felt like…

Ryneth’s eyes snapped open.

It felt like air.

It curled around his chest, as if trying to shield him from the ache that had followed him out of the dark. But awake, he locked it down. Regret was a weakness he had learned to bury deep.

Fisting his hand, he let out a relieved breath when his static crackled to life and chased away the air that still clung to him. It drifted back like mist, and for one impossible second, Ryneth could actually see it move toward the wall.

Ryneth froze.

A man sat in an armchair by his bed, wide-legged, head tipped back as he leaned against the wall. His long throat was bare, the skin smooth and marked with dark ink. The stranger looked less like a guard and more like a statue carved from shadows. He looked about the same age as Ryneth.

Was he sleeping? Like that?

The air curled around him, then just… dissolved.

Ryneth blinked.

No. This man wasn’t a stranger. They had met before, but where?

The man stirred, then stretched, unfolding himself before turning toward him. Ryneth should have looked away, but he had gotten distracted, and now he was too late.

A pair of sharp, amber eyes stared at him. Lips curled in a cruel smile. “You’re awake.”

Ryneth turned and stared at the ceiling, wishing he could fall asleep again. He closed his eyes but sensed the stranger approach. Sudden fear licked his insides. He thought of the red scanner light from the shuttle. A phantom sensation gripped his wrist, like a cuff snapping shut. He checked his hands and feet. He wasn’t tied, but the dread remained.

What if this was… his new owner? What if Concordant had given him to this man?

“Hey.” A hand touched his arm and Ryneth jerked hard enough to wrench his shoulder.

The stranger loomed over him now, white-gold hair falling over his forehead as he looked down on him. Up close, he was unfairly beautiful in a way that made Ryneth distrust him on sight—sharp amber eyes under dark lashes, a straight nose, a hard jaw, and thick brows arched like he expected the world to obey him. Then he grinned, revealing jeweled incisors that made Ryneth’s blood turn cold.

“Remember me? No?” His smile sharpened. “That’s a shame. I remember you. Clearly. The name is Daven Caelith. You’ve been restless.”

As if on call, more of the shards of memories came back. The ship. Lysa and Karo. Were they still alive?

Good Light, the contract. Back home, they needed his paycheck. Mara⁠—

“I need to go.” Ryneth gripped the mattress, knuckles white. Whatever they’d given him was still in his blood, and it made his head swim. “I can’t be here.” He shoved the blankets aside, his legs shaking as he tried to swing them over the bed frame. “Thank you for helping me, but I’m late for work. They’re expecting me.”

Daven moved before Ryneth’s feet could even touch the carpet. Catching him by the shoulders, he shoved him back onto the pillows with enough force to knock the breath from his lungs.

“You’re not going anywhere, aethera.” Daven leaned over him, his weight pinning Ryneth into the mattress.

Ryneth gasped, back arching against the bed. Up close, Daven felt too close, too unfamiliar. Ryneth didn’t know if he was more afraid or angry. He hated that his gaze still snagged on Daven’s mouth, on the amber burn of his eyes.

Why did his gaze snag on details like that? It never had before. There had never been time to notice men. Or women, for that matter. Work was all that mattered. Getting the money back home.