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“ H elianth came back. Finally. I found him meowing by the window. Yes, you,” Archer scratched the brown cat behind his ears, making the pet purr and squint. “You poor thing. Now, you be a good boy and stay in today.”

Grabbing a final tigano from the plate, Cyprian slung his backpack over his shoulder. “I love Aviel’s cooking, but nothing beats yours,” he mumbled with a full mouth.

Archer rolled his eyes. “You’re just saying that to flatter me. Aviel’s cooking reputation is unbeatable.”

Cyprian snorted. “That’s because everyone’s afraid of him.”

They made their way through Umber Park. It was a cool, windy, autumn morning. “How are they treating you anyway? Is it true that the Imperial Prince has cameras everywhere?”

Cyprian slowly shook his head, contemplating. “I don’t think so?” But he’d have to check that out when he got back to the house. “They’re okay. I mean, I try to keep to myself most of the time.” His skin flushed to the tips of his ears at the lie, though Archer seemed to buy it.

A commotion outside the art building made them stop on the stairs .

“What’s going on over there?”

Archer stretched his neck to see over the crowd. “I’m not sure. There’s a bunch of guys there. I see Theo.”

Cyprian turned too, searching the crowd. He recognized Theo, who was pinned against a building by a large guy with a black mohawk. Two girls stood by them, giggling like nothing was the matter. “Poor guy.”

“Just leave it. Come on, they’re not our business.”

“Perhaps we can?—”

“No.” Archer pushed Cyprian inside the building. “Theo’s a weird one. So are his friends. Besides, your watchdogs are coming.”

Cyprian watched as the two Luminary security guards appeared. “Speaking of weird. They never talk to me. They always just stand there, glaring at me.”

“Well, that’s the whole point, isn’t it? And their presence keeps the others away. Aside from me, that is. You’re making me feel fucking special.”

“And you’re making me feel lucky,” Cyprian deadpanned. “At least I’ve managed to find you before they barged into my life.”

As they made their way to class, Cyprian could feel the guards hot on his tail. Moargan had assured him it was for his own security, but he wasn’t ready to accept that. Yes, there was someone out there who was killing foreigners. But deep down, Cyprian knew that wasn’t the only reason Moargan had him protected by guards. It was because the Imperial Prince was possessive as hell and wanted to know what Cyprian was up to every single moment of the day. That should be annoying. It should make him feel like he was living in a prison. But there was something else there too. Something that tugged at his heart, made it flutter. It was a precious feeling.

Moargan seemed to be as confused as he was about this whole physical connection. But both couldn’t ignore the change that had grabbed hold of them after their palming ceremony. It filled the air with a hesitant curiosity. Cyprian wanted to know more about the Imperial Prince. He had protected Cyprian from himself the other day. Sure, his prince was still cocky as fuck and as possessive as they could come, but there was a warmth to the way he looked at him. A tenderness in the way he fucked Cyprian.

He was there for Cyprian, Moargan had said. Whenever he wanted to talk.

Talking…

Cyprian touched his palm, only half surprised when something warm and comforting stirred in the pit of his stomach.

Talking was hard, and feelings confusing. Most of the time, he hardly understood what it was that consumed his thoughts. Let alone voice those. Cyprian hoped that Moargan would be honest with his words. That he’d be patient. This…bond…it was a challenge. Not because he didn’t want it. But because so far, his life had been nothing but deception, and it was hard to trust others.

Cyprian wanted to trust Moargan. But his fear was real. No one had ever wanted him. Not his foster parents, who had purely done the deed because of the money they had received. Not his biological father.

A monster! Not my son! A monster!

Those words had carved up his heart. They had destroyed him. All these years of searching, and for what?

For someone who never wanted you.

Now he was afraid to meet his mother.

That first day, he’d wanted to go right back to the apartment and wait for her to come out.

Celia Fandi.

Cyprian Fandi.

But fear had slid in the cracks of his heart. He was scared that she too, never wanted him.

The day dragged on and Cyprian spent most of it inside his head. Quiet and concentrated, he stayed in the back of the class, behind his canvas. When the final hour arrived, Professor Dai invited them to improvise and let their inspiration flow. Archer once more joined his group. He sat next to Cyprian, pencils dipped in water, his colours ready to mingle and form shapes. “You had a good day?”

“Yeah.”

Archer didn’t pry any further.

He didn’t have to either, because the moment Cyprian’s pencils touched the white sheet, his mind was once more in apartment C. The pull was so intense, it made breathing hard. Pressure rose to his head and his mouth fell open in a silent plea. Right when he thought his head was going to explode, everything stopped. He exhaled on a ragged breath, his body shuddering. And then he felt like he was floating as he went through the run-down place, in search of something— anything —that could place him there. A memory to confirm that the place had once been his home.

There was nothing there. Nothing…

But they were still going down. He was no longer in the apartment, but somewhere else.

Stairs . So many of them. His mind had shown them before. A chill ran through Cyprian’s body. Suddenly, there was a door, and it opened with a creak, revealing an inky-black space.

And a…there was a?—

“Cyprian?” Archer’s soft voice a gentle hum. A small shake on his shoulder. “Cyprian! Where…how?—”

Cyprian’s mind rattled as the image fractured, the black hole scattering into countless tiny pieces as it disappeared from his mind. Once the fog was lifted, Cyprian realized he was staring into Archer’s wide, grey eyes. “Huh?”

Archer frowned and shook him again. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” Cyprian brushed a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands, and blinked. He took in their surroundings. They were sitting in the classroom, tucked in the far corner, backs against the wall, hidden behind their canvas. “I?—”

I can’t remember anything.

He shook at the thought.

“You were very quiet.” Archer held out his bottle of water and watched as Cyprian took a few gulps. “What was that place?”

“What do you mean?” Cyprian shivered. “You saw what I saw?”

“Your eyes…they turned gold. But they reflected stairs? And then you started drawing.” He used Cyprian’s hand to touch his canvas, stroking his fingertips over the freshly made shapes. “There. I think you drew what you saw.”

He did that?

Cyprian stared at the drawing, astonished.

“Fucking amazing, right?” Archer smiled. “Is that something you guys do in Tulniri?”

“No,” Cyprian choked, eyeing his charcoal composition with horror. Awareness crawled through his skin, momentarily paralyzing him with fear.

“Hey.” Archer squeezed his wrist. “Are you okay?”

“I—” Cyprian swallowed. He’d once more created a small, dark room with a low ceiling and an obscure atmosphere. “I’m fine.” But his mind was filling with words. With this newfound belief that something was settling inside of him.

Could it be Dariux?

Cyprian glared at his drawing. He needed to find out why he kept on drawing that room. Squinting his eyes, he peered closer at the tiny, forlorn smudge of black that sat in the middle of the room. For the untrained eye, it wasn’t more than a smear of charcoal, but he knew what it represented. A person. And they were trapped inside that room.

His mother?

Ludo Fandi had stated that he hadn’t seen her for a long time, but it could have been an untruth. He could have lied, and Cyprian had believed him immediately. Had believed a man who had openly rejected him, had disgraced him, had broken his dreams.

A wave of anger spilled out. Perhaps it would have shocked him if it didn’t feel so good. Because Ludo Fandi deserved all of Cyprian’s anger. He had thrown him away. If Cyprian found out he had also lied about his mother, he would go after him.

Yes, he’d been afraid to go back to the apartment. Had been afraid to face his mother after what his father had said. And perhaps Celia Fandi had never wanted him either. But nothing would be worse than not knowing. Taking the word of that asshole.

Last night he had spoken to Moargan about closure. It had felt important at the time, though honestly, he hadn’t been sure what he meant with it. Everything still felt so raw. His disappointment. The pain of having been thrown away.

But he was going to face it. He hadn’t spent years of his life searching for the truth, only to back out like a coward once the first horrific facts were unveiled. No, he was ready to reveal every single disgusting detail. And perhaps he’d even find his mother in that run-down apartment. He just hoped it wasn’t imprisoned in that tiny, dark room.

A s soon as their improvisation class marked the end of the day, Cyprian headed for the bus. He could have taken the easy way and accept the ride his guards offered, but habits seemed to kick in at the most inconvenient times. The ride was long and a much needed one, clearing Cyprian’s troubled thoughts.

When he finally reached the same dodgy neighborhood as the one that had filled his heart with disillusions before, he walked toward the apartment. Everything looked even gloomier than it had that first time, making his earlier bravado falter. Whatever it was that he’d felt inside of him—strength and determination and maybe even some Dariux?---had entirely disappeared by the time he made it inside the apartment block.

The walls were still smudged with stains. The stairs still creaked. The first floor was still noisy with cries and fights and the sounds of tv. And when he finally had the courage to knock on the door of apartment 12C, he wasn’t surprised that nobody answered.

There was the sound of a key being turned, then another door opened, followed by the wrinkled face of an old woman. She peered at him. “Yes?”

Cyprian cleared his throat, pointing at the door behind him. “I’m looking for Celia Fandi.”

Astonishment flared through her eyes. “Celia? Oh dear, she hasn’t been here for many, many years.”

Are you sure? Cyprian wanted to ask.

The woman waved with her hand. “The apartment is for rent. The Luminary came and emptied it yesterday.”

“Where did Ludo go?”

The woman scoffed. “That disgrace of mankind you mean? He’s gone. Finally.”

Cyprian blinked rapidly. His mind was spinning, only to settle on a disappointing truth—there was nothing here. “Thank you,” he managed and turned back to the door of apartment 12C. This was it. There was no dark room, no prisoner. No mother waiting for him. Not even his broken dreams were scattered around here on the dirty street of this shabby neighborhood.

There was… nothing .

It was almost as if there never had been anything to begin with. That feeling drained all the energy out of him. And there he stood, still facing apartment 12C, when the tears finally came. Once they did, he couldn’t stop. His heart broke, the crack sending shudders through his entire body, making him stumble and grab the wall as he held on.

Celia Fandi. Wherever she was, wasn’t here.

Siblings? Not here.

Teardrops blurred his vision. Through his ringing ears, he heard his own desperate sobs. Cyprian wept. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think. His mind for once a peaceful nothing, while his knees trembled.

Strong arms encased him in a tight grip and then he cried inside the crook of Moargan’s throat. Cyprian inhaled desperately, needing his scent of pine tar and opium, needed his warmth to unfreeze his cold limbs.

“Let’s get you out of here.”

Moargan lifted him up bridal style and Cyprian didn’t have the energy to complain. He could only close his eyes and press his nose closer to Moargan’s skin as they descended the stairs. At some point he must have fallen asleep, because when he came to, he sat leaned back in the hover car, his head still pressed against Moargan who was scrolling through the news on his multi-slate.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired.” Cyprian stretched, taking his time to get the cramp out of his limbs. “Better. Good.” He turned to face the Imperial Prince. “Are you mad at me?”

“Which part are you referring to? For ignoring your guards, or for not including me in your wild plans?”

Cyprian groaned. Suddenly this whole trip sounded like madness.

Moargan’s gaze softened as he cupped his chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. “I can’t say I understand why you’d go back to that shithole after what happened yesterday. But then, I can’t understand what it’s like to live without knowing my family. You spoke of closure. I take it this is it? ”

Cyprian nodded. “I think it is. At least when it comes to Ludo. Things will take time, I suppose, but yeah…”

“Good.” Moargan’s gaze narrowed and his amethyst irises flared. “There’s something else. What is it?”

“I think, perhaps, I’m feeling something.”

“ Something ?”

“Yes. Dariux.”

What followed was silence.

“I’ve been having these…visions,” Cyprian admitted. He swallowed thickly when he felt Moargan’s burning stare. It was already confusing enough, and he didn’t need that glorious gaze watching him. “What happened last night was…intense. And then, today in class, it happened again. This dark room. This foul place. I don’t know what it is or why I drew it. There’s someone in that room, a person. I don’t know who they are.” Finally, he looked up at Moargan. Their palms touched. “I thought maybe it was my mother. Maybe Ludo kept her inside the apartment. Hidden.” Cyprian scrunched his eyes closed. “I couldn’t find closure without checking myself.”

“And now you found it?” Moargan asked.

“I’m getting there.” Cyprian gave him a soft smile.

“It will come.”

Cyprian nodded shakily, his chest tightening once more at the enormity of it all. “I want to talk to you about what happens inside of me. I want to let you in, but words will come slowly.”

“I will give you time, lover.”

“Thank you,” Cyprian breathed. Relief washed over him. “Can we keep this between us for now?”

Moargan smiled. “Just you and me. But you’ll have to explain to me how you burst those light bulbs. It’s spectacular.”

Cyprian snorted. “Pretty inefficient you mean.”

“That too,” Moargan agreed, grinning when Cyprian stuck out his tongue. “But you did manage to bring your point across a few times. ”

“I did.” Leaning back, Cyprian took Moargan in for the first time since the Imperial Prince had scooped him away from his misery. He looked disheveled. His uniform was wrinkled and his usually smooth, blond hair was a mess. A sexy mess, but still a mess.

“You were so scared,” Moargan whispered.

Understanding sank into the pit of Cyprian’s stomach. Gingerly, he reached out a hand and brushed away some of his fallen locks. “Yeah? And how did that make you feel?”

Moargan’s eyes fluttered.

Cyprian leaned in and planted a soft kiss on the corner of his lips. “Did you feel my heartbeat go thump, thump, thump ?”

Moargan shuddered, but stayed still.

Cyprian’s fingertips wandered from those beautifully carved cheekbones and rested on Moargan’s mouth before sliding down. Over his chin past the curves of his throat, down to his clothed chest. “I bet you felt that here.” He traced the outline of Moargan’s hard dick, then gave it a little squeeze.

Moargan inhaled loudly, eyes revealing a thin layer of purple and a lot of black. His pupils were blown with desire.

“What do you need, angel?”

Those dark pools flashed with something. Moargan seemed as surprised as Cyprian at the sound of the word of endearment. It had slipped out of his mouth, never been used before. Moargan was hardly an angel, although maybe…maybe that wasn’t true.

“I need you,” he rasped.

“Where do you need me?”

“I need you fucking everywhere, all of the time. But right now…” Moargan pointed toward his heated groin. “I need you here. On your throne.”

Cyprian whimpered at the words, fingers clawing at his pants. When they rolled down his thighs, Moargan wrapped an arm around him and hoisted him onto his groin. He’d already whipped out his cock, fast and efficient. It was leaking and felt hot to the touch. Moargan groaned when Cyprian curled his hands around it and started pumping him slowly.

Cyprian’s mouth brushed over Moargan’s. “Tell me about this throne.”

“Hmm. It’s big and warm.”

His cock throbbed in Cyprian’s hand, and Cyprian swiped his thumb over the wet slit to slick the rest of his thick shaft. He looked down. “Big it is. Let me try it. See if it’s warm.” He lifted his hips, but Moargan stopped him.

“Let me prepare you, lover. Let me—it needs to feel good. You’ve had such a big day.”

Cyprian huffed out a laugh. He felt fucking euphoric. “Please be quick.” His own dick was pulsing with need. He was enjoying this new role.

A cold, wet finger pressed against Cyprian’s crease. Moargan reached up, leaving a trail of kisses on Cyprian’s nape, and he sighed in contentment when he felt those lush lips tracing his earlobe. “Look at you, aeon .” He added a second spit-lubed finger. “Look at how you’re going to take me like a good boy.” They circled and stretched Cyprian’s hole, and Cyprian couldn’t help but gasp at the sting of his tight channel being worked. When they hit his prostate, he jolted. Moaning, he rocked his hips, seeking more friction. More ache. Good light, he needed the ache to soothe the other ache he’d felt today. He needed this to fucking sting .

“That’s it,” praised Moargan. He removed his fingers, slowly easing his cock in. “Just breathe, my aeon . That’s it.”

Cyprian panted at the intrusion. He felt so full, completely impaled now, slowly replacing his earlier feeling of loss.

“Fuck yes, I needed this,” Moargan rasped.

“I feel so good when I’m with you,” Cyprian breathed. “It’s like it’s meant to be.”

Moargan pulled back, eyes blazing with heat. “Well, you are my chosen one.” He rolled his hips in a slow dance that made them both moan. He leaned up and kissed Cyprian’s nape and throat. Cyprian tilted his head back, giving him more access. His toes curled when he felt him touch the sensitive spot on his flesh.

“So this new throne…you told me it’s big, but is it warm as well?” Moargan teased.

“Scorching,” Cyprian said, reveling in the heady attention his prince gave him.

“It makes me want to stay here.”

“Fuck, lover.” Moargan exhaled on a heavy shudder when Cyprian rocked his hips, increasing the rhythm. He lit a red cinder cigarette and leaned back against the seat. “We should make this your one and only private seat.” He brushed a lock of black hair behind Cyprian’s ear, then continued to smoke and stare out of the window with flared nostrils. His mouth parted, and a growl spilled from his throat, spurring Cyprian on in his efforts to make his prince come. White hot sparkles lit up behind his fluttering eyes when Moargan brushed a hand over his cock. The cigarette was terrifyingly close to his erection. It didn’t stop Cyprian from bucking his hips and moaning. Moargan’s arm curled around his waist, and the prince started guiding his movements, matching them with his own rolling groin.

“You’re falling apart for me lover,” Moargan rasped. “And it’s the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” With every thrust he hit Cyprian’s prostate, making Cyprian mewl and writhe in Moargan’s hold.

“Moargan…”

“You want to come, aeon ?”.

“Yes,” he whispered, head tilted back.

The cigarette was flicked away and Moargan let out a feral snarl as he lunged forward and went for Cyprian’s neck, sucking and nipping as he steadied Cyprian’s hips so he could thrust up more urgently.

Cyprian cried out when Moargan’s hold around his cock became firmer, stroking his slicken shaft faster until it matched the rocking of his lovemaking. He was so close, his balls so heavy, ready to spill.

“You see that, lover?” Moargan sucked on the spot on his throat, his voice a hum on shivering skin. “I can have you when I want you. I can have you all the time. Sitting on my dick like the delicious treat you are, fucking yourself on me. Because my body, too, craves you. My body chose you.” He sped up his hand, and Cyprian’s shaking in pleasure, eyes rolling back as he howled in ecstasy with his orgasm.

The tightness of Cyprian’s channel made Moargan climax, dick spurting inside Cyprian’s ass, filling Cyprian as he squeezed him tight and panted in his ear.

They stayed like this, enjoying the afterglow, before Moargan gave him a peck on his lips. “Beautiful. Now, let’s go. We’re here.”

“Where are we?” Cyprian gazed outside as he pulled off Moargan’s softening cock, accepting the towel to clean himself. They were no longer driving. “Is this your father’s house?”

“Yes. He wanted to see us.”

“Why?” Cyprian straightened his jacket and let a hand go through his hair. His stomach tightened with tension. “Is something going on?”

“Let’s find out.”

“Wait.” Cyprian grabbed Moargan’s arm before he could get out of the car. He stared into those amethyst eyes, insecurity and a sense of rejection battling inside him. Finally, he licked his lips, forcing himself to be strong. “Never mind.”

Moargan hooked his fingers under Cyprian’s chin and lifted it up so they faced each other. “None of that, lover. My father is a good man. You don’t have to be afraid of him. And I’m with you.”

Always.

The word lingered in the air.

Always.

They got out of the car.

Always.