Page 109

“No? Here’s a truth for you,” Cyrus sneered with a cruel curl of his lip. He took a few steps forward, embers left in his wake. “I never had a twin flame. I’m Fae. Thia was Fae. I was a fool to think I was deserving of such a thing. The Fates would never find me worthy of such a gift.”

Cassius was shaking his head, hands fisting at his sides. “I don’t believe that.”

“Believe it or don’t. Your beliefs don’t change truth,” Cyrus said with a shrug. “I have failed everyone I’ve ever loved.” He pointed to the Bargain Mark on his arm that he’d been keeping hidden from everyone else. “This is just further proof. I’m a thief, Cassius. I always have been. I take what I want, no matter what it costs someone else. Selfish and callous. I damage everyone around me. You were right to tell me to get out. To not tie yourself to me by letting me become your Source.”

He turned to walk away from him, done with this conversation, but a large hand clamped around the nape of his neck and hauled him back. Then there were lips on his, and he was so startled, he froze. Cassius pulled back, his brow resting against Cyrus’s.

“What are you doing?” Cyrus rasped.

“Reminding you what you are deserving of,” he answered, his voice rough.

There was a moment, one where neither of them dared to breathe, and then, because he clearly enjoyed torture, Cyrus kissed him back.

He was smoke and heat and a warmth that had been missing from his soul. His hand was still clasped around the back of his neck, and his other dropped to Cyrus’s side. His fingers brushed along his bare torso, calluses from years of training rough against his flesh.

Cyrus gripped his tunic, keeping him close, and the rumble that came from Cassius had him echoing with a low groan of his own. Tongues tangled and teeth clashed in a heady desperation that was scarcely being restrained. Cassius walked him backwards until his back hit the wall. Cass’s lips moved to his jaw, and Cyrus tipped his head back. He could feel the stubble on Cass’s face. Could feel every one of his harsh breaths. Could feel him pressing against his stomach.

“You were deserving of Merrik and Thia,” Cassius murmured against the space beneath his ear. The hand on his nape slid up into his hair. “You are deserving of the family that loves you.”

Cyrus’s eyes fell closed.

Of course they made a mistake.

“You were deserving of a twin flame. Thiawasyour twin flame.”

No one wants you, Cyrus.

“You are deserving of being Second of the Fire Court.”

If you can’t see that all you do is damage everyone around you, then I will keep reminding you until you believe it.

“Look at me, Cyrus.”

He inhaled deeply, focusing on the feel of Cassius against him. Cass gave him the minute he needed before he could open his eyes. They locked on a brown one, the other hidden behind his patch.

“You are deserving of being wanted, Cyrus. Youarewanted.” The hand at his hip began moving, sliding along his abdomen. “I’ll tell you as often as you need to hear it.” His hand dipped beneath the band of his pants, and Cyrus stopped breathing entirely. “And when words aren’t enough, I’ll show you.”

He paused for a moment, waiting for Cyrus to object, but Cyrus couldn’t think around anything as Cassius’s fingers grazed his length. Cassius kissed him again before his mouth moved to his neck. Nips and bites that made Cyrus gasp as much as the hand curled around his cock did.

But when Cassius’s lips moved lower—across the hollow of his throat, his chest—and then lower still, when Cassius started lowering to his knees, Cyrus gripped his forearm. “Cass,” he rasped, Cassius never stopping the movement of his fist up and down his length. “You don’t—”

“I know I don’t. Iwantyou, Cyrus.” His voice was nothing but gravel and lust, and when he went to get on his knees again, Cyrus let him.

Cassius held his gaze as he pulled him from his pants, and when the flat of his tongue ran over his tip, Cyrus hissed out a curse. All coherent thoughts left his mind when Cass’s lips closed around him, sucking gently before taking him deeper into his mouth. He couldn’t think about how he didn’t deserve to have a male on his knees before him, let alone Cassius. He couldn’t think about the memories the Sorceress had altered. He couldn’t think about anything except Cass and his mouth and, gods, the way his tongue felt as he ran it along the underside of his cock.

Cyrus slid a hand into Cassius’s shaggy brown hair, fingers tightening in the strands. Cassius was dragging the tips of his fingers up and down Cyrus’s exposed thigh, barely touching him. His other hand was still wrapped around his base, stroking in time with the bob of his head, and fuck. Cassius never looked away from him, and the look in his eye never left. Want. Desire. The need for more.

Cass took him deep again, and Cyrus slammed his palm back against the wall. He was so fucking close. “Godsdamnit, Cass,” he rasped. Cassius’s hand squeezed his thigh where he held him, a glimmer of male triumph in his eye.

Without thinking, Cyrus pulled the eye patch off, tossing it off to the side. “I hate that thing,” he muttered. Cassius huffed a laugh around him that had Cyrus bucking his hips forward at the same moment Cass’s eyes shifted to amber-red. His grip tightened on Cass’s hair. “I’m serious, Cass,” he ground out, thrusting again out of pure need. “I’m about to lose it.”

Cassius gave him a wicked grin around his cock as he pulled back and swirled his tongue around the head before he sank back down on him again. And that was it. Any shred of control Cyrus was clinging to was shattered. His other hand slid into Cass’s hair, his hips snapping forward. He tried—gods, did he try—to take it easy on him, but Cassius had steadily worked his way through every layer and defense Cyrus had.

And damn it all to hell, Cass took it all when release found Cyrus. His head tipped back against the wall, his eyes falling closed as he jerked and emptied down Cass’s throat. Then Cyrus was tugging on his hair with a growl. “Get up here.”

He hauled Cass’s lips to his own, tasting himself on Cassius’s tongue, but when he reached for the band of his pants, Cassius caught his wrist. “Not tonight, Cyrus,” he murmured onto his lips.

The pleasure-haze of release immediately evaporated. “You don’t want—”