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His hand curled around Ryx’s forearm. A strangled gasp left Saren as cold, unrelenting stillness seeped through his muscles, into his veins and bones, a siphon of nothingness that he wasn’t sure he could escape from. It was so much stronger than the first day, when he’d only skimmed his mind with his mastery. Now that their skin connected, Saren wasn’t sure he’d survive. He saw spots, black dancing over his vision, and then the searing pain inside his belly. A chasm shaped like a neon-blue void filled his mind’s eye, sending shivers and gooseflesh down his arms. Before he could scream, Ryx smothered it with his palm.

“I said don’t,” he growled, shoving Saren to the floor.

At first, he was shocked. Sprawled out over the polished wood floor, Saren stared up at the boy who was supposed to be his friend. Ryx looked worried—afraid even. And he should’ve been. How dare he? No stranger to petty bullying, Saren could’ve handled that. But to be so aggressive? To push him down like that? He couldn’t let that slide. Things had already gone too far with the council constantly demeaning him for being an omega. The last thing he’d allow to happen was this—some little alpha boy making him feel less than too. Springing to his feet, fists balled at his sides, Saren ground his teeth.

“No one hurts me,” he seethed, trembling. Helpless to the onslaught of horrible memories, rage quickly filled the spot where tender affection was moments ago. “No one. Don’t you know who I am? I’m the Maven!” His cheeks went pink. “I’m the most important person in this entire community, and you hurt me!”

Everyone hurt him.

How he could’ve been so stupid as to think Ryx would be different was astonishing.

Ryx’s worry vanished, replaced with cold indifference. He shrugged like it wasn’t his problem, like Saren’s official title meant nothing. No apology, no inkling of regret. The boy didn’t seem to realize he’d been spared, and only because of Saren’s mercy. His kindness. His bleeding heart that desperately wanted someone to like him. Maybe he shouldn’t have helped Ryx at all. Maybe Others truly were Telex’s natural enemy. What else could explain this?

“You…you are one of them, aren’t you?” Saren’s voice wavered. He needed to hear the words. “Other. A monster.”

His expression guarded now, Ryx scoffed, rolled his eyes, and stood. “Monster,” he croaked, his voice still soft as a baby bird. “You are monster.” A potent mix of pubescent alpha and the acrid stench of rage filled the air.

Saren froze.

“All Telex monsters.”

Oh, how he wanted to argue. To recite all of his teachings until he was blue in the face. This boy was wild, found who knows where, and for all Saren knew, he could’ve been part of the rebellion, brainwashed into believing lies. Telex weren’t monsters, not really. Not always. Of course, his people did some…bad things. But the good they did surely outweighed that. Look at how many people had a home, safe from the Barrens, because of Telex rule.

How many humans could say they accomplished that?

Despite what Ryx might think, he knew better than the boy. He would show him mercy because he had the power to. Though he wasn't officially the Maven yet, his place in their community carried weight, and as long as he kept this secret, the boy would know no harm. He’d be safe from prosecution. He was going to take care of this boy no matter what.

That didn’t mean Saren wouldn’t stay upset for a bit longer. Because he was upset. Maybe he was fooling himself. No one would ever actually like him.

And yet…he couldn’t bring himself to walk away without trying a tiny bit harder—give a bigger piece of himself and hope Ryx would want to keep it.

“You should be nicer to me,” he said, lifting his chin, fighting back the sudden moisture building in his eyes. “I’m your only f-friend.”

Not waiting for a response, he spun on his heel, leaving Ryx standing beside the bed, glaring at the ground.

***

Saren avoided Ryx for the next three days.

It was easy enough.

He busied himself with studying for the exam that coming Saturday, and Ryx stayed in his room. Saren brought meals and left, ignoring the ever-changing scent that clung to his skin like mud. Still too bent out of shape from their altercation, he wasn’t ready to be around the boy just yet. That, and every time he was near that door, Ryx’s perfume nearly brought him to his knees.

A foreign urge to march in there and bare his throat always gave him stomach cramps. He had to focus. Patryn had asked why he had distanced himself, curious if they’d already broken the fragile bond, but he managed to evade much interrogation by blaming the test.

But Saturday was in two days.

And Saren was sick with dread.

He was also so lonely he couldn’t stand it.

He’d missed breakfast, opting to stay burrowed in his bed, sucking his thumb in the dark. It was so childish, so infantile, that he only did it when he knew he wouldn’t get caught. Patryn would whip him raw if he found out. The habit was supposedly broken when he turned ten, and Saren couldn’t sit down for days. Gods, he’d been hurt so much in his short life, and he knew that more hurt would come. His only hope of reprieve was to pass every exam, prove himself to the council, and become the Maven. Then, and only then, he’d be safe from their endless abuse and humiliation.

He’d finally be strong.

When his finger grew prune-like, he popped it out of his mouth and switched thumbs. By the time supper was near, he remembered. Ryx was his responsibility. His to mind, to keep clean and fed, and he’d ignored him for three days. He yanked his thumb out of his mouth, wiped his wet eyes and cheeks, and pulled back the covers. He hadn’t even made it off the bed before his door cracked open, the light harsh against the darkness he’d been moping in.

Ryx stood in the doorway, his raven-wing hair blocking his face, and cleared his throat. “S-Saren?”