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C yprian Creighton stared at himself while he messed with his work uniform, unable to remember what the dress code for employees was. The high collar made him look like a scarecrow. A too pale of face, hair too dark, and eyes, an odd yellow and bright.

Way too bright.

He hated his eyes. And he hated that he was nervous.

Desperation had led him here. On board a spaceship.

He had never been off-planet. Had never done anything illegal.

He brushed a hand through his raven strands, a nervous tick, then tucked them back behind his ear and sighed.

“Here, let me do it, newbie.” Bekn Zaid creased the seam in half, making the collar fall right between Cyprian’s shoulders and ears. Clever. Like him, Bekn was dressed in black cargo pants, a similar coloured button-down, and a silver tie that seemed useless, aside from its neat appearance. Unlike him, Bekn's platinum curls formed a nice contrast to the dark garment.

Patting Cyprian on the shoulder, his colleague for the day peered at him through the mirror, his gray eyes laced in amusement. “Done. Now, let me show you the ropes before we take off. Although something tells me that you are not looking for a permanent job here, but merely for a way to travel off the planet?” Without waiting for an answer, he held open the door for Cyprian to follow. “Come on. We’ll start on the upper deck. We have some high-profile people traveling with us today.”

Cyprian followed Bekn through the hallway and up the stairs. The top floor was exclusive to royal families or other elite, and where the rest of the spaceship was finished with aluminium, the upper compartments were made of solid steel and glass. The burgundy cushions looked soft and comfortable, and on the small, transparent tables, refreshments of all sorts had already been placed.

Cyprian whistled through his teeth. “Nice.”

Bekn grinned. “Yes. And all you’ll be seeing on this floor.” He patted one of the cushions as they made their way through the rooms. “You're far too innocent to know what goes on up here. Now, come on, I'll show you the rest of this beauty.” He gestured for Cyprian to follow him, and Cyprian bit his lip to prevent his curiosity from spilling.

“First class is right here. Fancy, but not as fancy. Less cushions, more manners.” They walked down the stairs. “And we're back where we started. This is where most passengers will be anyway. Let me show you the canteen.”

By the time Bekn gave him the full tour, passengers were boarding the ship traveling to Helion. “Here.” Cyprian let Bekn pull him into the corner and shove a plastic cup of something in his hand. “Drink.”

He frowned at the dubious substance. “What is it?”

“I take it this is your first time going off Tulniri?” Bekn gave a small smile when Cyprian didn’t answer. “That's what I thought. Drink it. It’s Axe, and it will help you feel better once we’re traveling through the galaxy. ”

Cyprian narrowed his gaze at the drink, his mind racing. He didn’t trust the young man who was assigned to teach him the ropes around the spaceship.

He didn’t trust anyone.

But he wasn’t going to tell Bekn that. Besides, he was freaking out a little thinking about the nearing departure.

Just a little.

Putting the cup to his lips, he drank its content down in one, cherry-flavoured gulp, before wiping his lips clean.

Bekn looked smug. “It's good, hey? I made it myself.”

“You make your own narcotics ?”

Bekn chuckled, nudging him in the waist. “It pays the bills. So, if you ever need more, just come ask. I'm a known figure in the right places. Or if you ever need anything else—” He rolled his eyes at Cyprian’s shocked expression. “Not that . I leave that to my little fuckboy brother. Although I'm all up for experimenting. Especially when it involves herbal and chemical substances.” He burst out laughing, the sound fading as more and more passengers made their way through the spaceship.

“This ship will depart in ten minutes to Helion.” An automatic announcement resonated through the crowd.

A fresh wave of nausea washed through Cyprian’s stomach, despite the Axe. Hopefully, whatever he just swallowed would take effect soon.

Helion was a planet located close to Tibera in the Crystal Sea, and this would be an eight-hour flight from Tulniri, the planet on which Cyprian had lived his entire life.

Almost .

The metallic voice continued its instructions that resonated through the tiny spots built into the aluminum ceiling and walls of the space shuttle. Even the floors were made of the same cool, silver material that created a concert of clicking sounds as the last passengers rushed to enter the ship and took their designated seats.

This was it. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. All the research of the past years, hours spent hidden in libraries flicking through countless pages that described uneventful experiments, hoping to find out something.

Anything to make him understand who he was.

They named him Cyprian Creighton. Until the age of eight, that had been a given. His name. His family. His home. Until one day, that reality had come crashing down. After that, like a house of cards that got blown away, truth by truth had been peeled off, as if reality had been wanting to hurt him. To punish him.

By the time everything had been stripped, a new reality had been presented. Bare. Cold.

He was a foster child. And those he lived with, those he’d considered his brothers and sisters, were only there because they were in the same situation as him.

Abandoned.

Unwanted.

As if swiping the depressing thoughts from his mind, Cyprian tucked a handful of his black bangs from his face behind his ear and kept his gaze straight ahead, staring quite literally into space. They were about to leave.

He was about to leave.

“So, Xander Devers,” Bekn broke the silence. “Spill the beans. You seem a little too young to work permanently for Starsight.” He gave him a curious glance. “You look like someone who's got a plan. I mean, why Helion? What's out there for such a young---”

“I'm twenty,” Cyprian clipped. “So not that young. And why can't I work on the shuttle? They're always looking for new personnel.” That wasn't a lie and probably the main reason why Captain Delaine hadn’t bothered asking him any questions.

“Hmm…” Bekn rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “My theory? You were banned from Tulniri. You got into trouble and had to le ave on the first shuttle.” His gaze narrowed as he searched Cyprian’s face as if analyzing the lies Cyprian was about to spill. Too bad for Bekn, because he had rehearsed this topic thousands of times in his head.

“Really? That's your theory?” Cyprian snorted. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but Tulniri’s leaders don’t just ban convicted criminals. They kill them.”

“Ouch,” Bekn chuckled. “Copy that. Not a criminal then.”

Cyprian huffed and shook his head. “No criminal.”

“So, please tell me you’re a student and haven’t decided you want to end up doing this until you’re old and shriveled?” Bekn shivered dramatically. “I only do this work to save for my senior year at the Academy, but man, it’s boring.”

That… Cyprian swallowed. He hadn't expected to meet a fellow student on board the spaceship. Not that it really mattered; the Helion Academy housed over three thousand students, but still. He had done everything in his power and way beyond to cover his tracks. Name included. It would be best to avoid running into his co-worker once they arrived.

Bekn was right. Cyprian was banned from Tulniri, just not in the way he thought. He had gotten himself wrapped up in the wrong crowd — the powerful Devils of Foxglove. And if they found out…

Cyprian thought of his foster parents. They’d try to force him to join Club Essential on Tulniri, and hadn’t listened to his pleas to keep him out. Had always forced their hand. And the only answer he’d known to give was to flee the planet in search of his truth.

Would they miss him?

“Ah.” Bekn wiggled his eyebrows and refilled their cups with Axe. “Gotcha, brother. You’re a student. Why the mystery?”

“You’ve got me.” Cyprian tried to play it cool, but beneath his bravado, he felt vulnerable. There was nothing reassuring about the way he had left the place he called home. His name change was fragile, to say the least.

“Xander Devers, the literature student.” Bekn was still teasing him, sweeping his gaze slowly over Cyprian’s lithe frame, making him feel self-conscious. “No. History. Nooo…” He crossed his arms over his chest, a smug look on his face. “You’re an art student. Am I right?” They both watched the crowd, uniforms impeccable, hands crossed behind their backs as they nodded their greetings at travellers.

“Yes. And you're right. I’m paying my passage to Helion by working on the spaceship. Once we arrive, I’m done. But don’t tell Delaine that.”

It was Bekn’s turn to snort. “As if I care about that old man. I'll be out of this place myself soon enough. Although I still wonder why someone like you would come all the way to Helion to study. Doesn't Tulniri have like, a super campus?”

“They do, but Helion's Art Academy has the best reputation,” Cyprian lied.

“Fair enough,” Bekn shrugged. “Oh well, so much for the gossip. Your turn.”

Cyprian gave Bekn a once-over. “Uhm, mathematics?”

Bekn clicked his tongue.

“Okay…physics?”

Bekn blinked but didn’t comment.

“I don't know. Biology or something?”

Bekn’s eyes flashed maliciously and gave him a wide grin that made Cyprian’s stomach flop with unease. Perhaps it was the drugs.

“Or something, indeed. And yes, I’m a biology senior.” Bekn wiggled his brows. “I major in Artificial Genetics.”

“Wow, I’m impressed.” Cyprian frowned. “My stomach. I think I feel something.”

Bekn chuckled. “It's the Axe.”

Cyprian turned to eye the bar, where a group of businessmen were enjoying eating and drinking as they checked emails on their multi-slates. The glass doors had slid closed.

“So, in which building are you staying?”

“I am renting a room off campus.” Cyprian brushed a hand behind his ear.

“Why? The Academy has plenty of on-campus dorms available to off-planet students.”

Cyprian shrugged but kept quiet.

“You’re a funny one.”

When Cyprian gave him an incredulous look, Bekn winked and poked him in the side, making him jump. Cyprian didn’t like people, unless they were created on his canvas, and he hated being touched. It hadn’t always been like that—there had been a time he had longed for affection, had proactively searched for it. Now it just made his skin crawl and his mind stutter.

Shuttle personnel were passing by the numbered rows of seats, checking if safety rules had been applied.

Cyprian’s stomach fluttered as if he was nervous. “Is the Axe supposed to make me feel all jittery?”

Bekn shrugged. “I'm not sure. This new recipe is still in the experimental phase.”

“ What ?” Cyprian fisted his hands, annoyance sweeping through him. Bekn gave him a sinister smile. Cyprian wanted to say something, but when the glass doors slid open once more, revealing a new travelling party, he fell silent.

Everybody fell silent.

Three burly men in military combat uniforms swaggered inside the metallic ship, hands loosely on the rifles they kept sideways against their collarbone, a stern look on their faces.

Captain Delaine came marching towards the soldiers, his shoes clicking on the floor as he lifted his knee and put his feet together in a salute. When he bowed, Cyprian’s stomach tightened, and he tried to swallow away the rising bile. Bekn had mentioned an elite presence during this trip, which is why he had shown him the compartments on the first floor. He just hadn’t realized it was that kind of elite.

The Devils…they’d found him. Cyprian felt like he was going to be sick. But then, what had he expected? That he could just turn his back to the grand opportunity he had been given through the ties of his foster parents?

No. They wouldn’t miss him.

Still, it was too soon. He wasn’t Cyprian Creighton anymore, but he wasn’t officially Xander Devers yet, either. He was in between lives and in a vulnerable situation.

The voice of the captain sliced through his thoughts. “It is an honour to have you on board, Imperial Zephyranthis.”

Imperial Zephyranthis? He was the Imperial Prince of Helion. Cyprian didn’t know whether he should be relieved or afraid that the royal entering the ship was not one of Tulniri's Essentials. Around them, people were still quiet, unlike the churning wheel in Cyprian’s mind.

When he decided to investigate his roots on Helion, he had read all about the Imperial family who ruled the smallest planet in the Crystal Sea. Famous for its forests and horticulture, both biologically and artificially planted, the place was traditional and had been led by the same family for decades.

“Helion’s Imperial Moargan Zephyranthis coming through. Step aside,” one of the soldiers boomed, breaking the tense silence.

Cyprian’s hands started to sweat as they approached, his stomach coiling, pumping nausea. The data chip sat hidden down in the quarters for employees, far away from here. But what if they somehow knew that he had obtained illegal information from their planet? What if they knew he was a refugee traveling under a false name?

In the corner of his eye, he saw passengers shifting aside, and it felt like the temperature was dropping. As if they’d already taken off.

His common sense was slipping with each approaching step the travelling party made. It must be the effect of the Axe. He wanted to ask Bekn, but his lips felt stitched.

If the Imperial decided to do an identity check on all boarding passengers, he was busted.

“Recruit…”

They would execute him. And he would never be able to find out where he was from or why he had been given up. Perhaps his biological parents hadn’t wanted a baby with yellow eyes? Cyprian wanted to brush his hand through his hair to soothe himself from his rising panic, but he didn’t want to bring attention to himself.

“Recruit!”

He flinched when a hand grabbed his shoulder and forcefully pulled him back. Stumbling on his feet, his lips parted in shock that quickly morphed into humiliation.

Everyone else was looking at him.

“Step aside for the Imperial Prince. Now .” It was Captain Delaine.

“I apologize,” Cyprian stumbled, realizing he was standing right in their path. His tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth, but awareness crawled through him, causing the skin on his cheeks to burn. Quickly, he took steps back so the three soldiers could make their way through, walking side by side, practically swallowing up the metallic arrival hall.

It had to be the drugs. Cyprian watched them pass, heart thrashing in his chest. He shouldn’t have trusted Bekn.

His skin warmed as if being pulled out of the shadows and into the spotlight. His stomach rolled, and if it wasn’t for Captain Delaine, who still had his fingers dug in his nape, he would have stumbled.

Cyprian righted himself. Flicking his gaze up, he found himself caught in a pair of unfamiliar, piercing, violet eyes laced with cruel intentions. They stared right back at him. Their owner, dressed in a white cape with the hood cascading over his nape, approached.

Cyprian’s heart thundered at the realization.

He was staring right at Imperial Moargan Zephyranthis.

Moargan looked young, no more than a few years older than Cyprian, with smooth skin and flawless features. He was so different from the drawings Cyprian had seen of him in the library.

As they stared at each other, Cyprian noticed a straight nose and lips that turned into a smirk, showing off a set of white, jewelled incisors.

Cyprian dipped his gaze, staring at his feet, trying to slink back into the shadows. His entire body felt hot. From embarrassment or the Axe. Or perhaps it was from the imperial who had now appeared in his personal space, their chests nearly touching. It took all of Cyprian’s efforts to stay still and not run away.

Moargan leaned forward, humming, “Look what landed in my lap.” His nose skimmed the overheated skin where Cyprian’s ear met his neck. He inhaled deeply. “How I love an unhealthy portion of fear.”

Cyprian kept his gaze on his old, brown leather shoes, unsure what to say. He breathed in the faintest scent of soap and mint, and the touch of lips on his flesh made goosebumps tickle his skin. He swore he heard a low, throaty purr, and then Moargan pulled his face back with one final, violet flare before heading for the stairs, leaving him a trembling mess.

“Hold your head up and pretend nothing happened,” Bekn murmured in his ear, holding a tray in his line of sight.

“Is he gone?” Cyprian whispered after what felt like a light year, grabbing the cool metal with sweating hands.

“Yeah. He went upstairs.”

People were staring; Cyprian felt their eyes on him. Following Bekn through the throngs, he kept his expression blank, pretending he didn’t notice all the whispers.

Inside the kitchen, they started filling their trays. “Why didn’t you just step back? You don’t want to be on the Imperial's radar.”

“It was your Axe,” Cyprian growled, glancing down at his full tray. “It made me slow.”

“Maybe.” Bekn started to head out of the kitchen, then hesitated. “Just…you really don’t want him to notice you. And I would know. I’m originally from Helion, Xander. We have a complicated relationship with the Imperial family. They are loved and hated at the same time. They are all attractive, fierce, and loyal to their people. But like everything in this world, fortune comes with a price.”

Cyprian let out an uncomfortable chuckle. That man is gorgeous, with his purple eyes, his blond strands, and matching cape.

“That family is known for being cruel. Aside from the weekly Aureates—they’re like contests they organize in the arena—they are known for searching for their own private conquests. Those teeth look pretty and all. But I've heard stories. They are predators. They love to hunt .” Bekn shivered. He opened his mouth to say something else, then changed his mind.

“They use them.” Cyprian heard him whisper as they made their way to the second class.