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“ Y ou said you wouldn’t bite,” Cyprian pouted. He was laying snug between Moargan’s thighs, side pressed into his firm chest.

“I’m not.” But Moargan kept a possessive hand wrapped around his lover’s neck, reveling in the way Cyprian swallowed against his fingers.

“But your teeth?—”

“Are scraping your skin, beautiful. Not hurting.” Claiming .

Cyprian’s hand shot up to his own throat, but Moargan shooed him away with his teeth, snagging a finger with his mouth on a low growl.

“That tickles,” Cyprian giggled, yanking his finger back. “Stop it!”

But Moargan chased his hand again until he finally had one of those fingers back between his teeth.

“Your gems—they change colour.” Cyprian pointed toward Moargan’s jewels. “I saw it before. With Theo, and with this prisoner. And sometimes when we make love.” He smiled bashfully and lifted his hand to touch Moargan’s ear, gingerly tracing his fingertips over the line of silver jewelry. “Just like now. They shine the colour of your eyes. So pretty. Are they proof of your status? Or are they linked to any of your enhancements?”

Moargan released Cyprian’s finger. “Because I’m a show-off, lover. And they’re proof of my connection to the throne.” His mouth brushed over Cyprian’s jaw down to the delicate skin on his throat.

Cyprian let out a content sigh. “That feels good. It’s been sensitive ever since you first touched it.”

That…Moargan liked that. He lapped over the patch of pale flesh and looked down, capturing Cyprian’s stare. His aeon looked a bit dazed, but content.

“Does your brother have the same enhancements?”

Moargan hummed against Cyprian’s warm, trembling flesh, loving the way Cyprian’s heart beat fast. Was he aroused? Afraid? He needn’t be. Though Moargan would gladly keep him in that state of mind, just for the way his heart thumped wildly in Moargan’s own chest. “We’re family, lover. We are very similar. Same enhancements and, same physical appearance. Same love for beautiful jewelry, for sweet and sexy men.”

Cyprian tensed at those final words and Moargan grinned against his neck.

“That doesn’t surprise you, does it?”

“No.” Cyprian shook his head, his locks brushing past Moargan’s skin. There was something sad about the way he just accepted that. As if Moargan would ever be intimate with anyone else, now that he was bonded to Cyprian.

“For me, there’s only you, Cyprian,” he said, just to be sure. His lover smiled, and couldn’t hide his relief. “And for you?”

“Only you,” he said hastily. Then he smiled too. Cute.

“That makes me happy.”

“Me too,” Cyprian whispered.

Morgan tangled his finger around a lock of raven hair. “Just me and my lovely aeon . I can think of so many ways of having you. Slow. Rough. Gentle. Hmm… Tied up, drugged, desperate, and begging for my cock.”

“Moargan,” Cyprian pulled his face back with hot cheeks. ”I have more questions.”

“Of course you do.”

“Did you choose those diamonds yourself? Or were they given to you by the laboratory?”

Moargan’s hand tightened around Cyprian’s waist as he pulled him closer. “These are gifted by my family. The two in the back come from my grandfather. The one in the middle comes from my mother. I chose the ones in the front when I was thirteen.” He dipped his chin and pressed a kiss on Cyprian’s nose. “Touch them.”

Cyprian grimaced, though his fingertips slid down over Moargan’s cheek to his lips. “Why do I get the feeling that this is the part where you’ll end up biting me after all?”

Moargan chuckled. “They are made to hurt.” Baring his teeth, he rolled his eyes at Cyprian’s cute frown. He couldn’t really think that Moargan would hurt him.

Slowly, carefully, Cyprian traced the shape of the sculpted jewels that adorned Moargan’s incisors. His gaze flicked up. “They are silver once more.”

Moargan nodded, swallowing with unexpected feelings. His body trembled in delight at Cyprian’s gentle discovery, his fingers gingerly tracing the shape of the sources of Moargan’s power. It made him feel…vulnerable.

“Such pretty gems for such violence,” Cyprian mused. “These things make you crave violence, right?”

Moargan nodded. He couldn’t really answer any question with his mouth open. Right now, Cyprian’s fingers were still probing, a sense of wonder glittering in those mesmerizing eyes.

“So, if I’d take them out, would you lose your appetite to hunt? ”

He shook his head, then bared his teeth just to hear him squeal once more. He kept his fingers in place though. Fast learner.

“No? And it wouldn’t stop you from hearing other people’s heartbeats?” Cyprian’s index finger skidded over a gem.

Moargan shook his head.

“No? What other superpowers do you have?” Cyprian smiled at his own words, then finally retrieved his finger, watching Moargan’s mouth before dropping a kiss on Cyprian’s fingertip.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, lover? My teeth were a great gift. Our secret to being the strong leaders we are. I don’t often bite my prey with them if that’s what you’re afraid of.” He grinned. “But they inject me with desire. Desire to hunt and catch and kill.”

Cyprian shivered.

“But you’re right, there’s more. I also have night vision. I thought that perhaps you did too with the intensity of your irises, but when I chased you down in my house that night, you seemed lost.”

“I don’t think I have night vision.” Cyprian slid his hand up to feel Moargan’s hair. “You’re right. For me, it’s quite the opposite. I often get blinded by the lights.”

“What do you mean?”

Cyprian let out a soft hum when his fingers brushed through his blond strands. “I love blond hair,” he whispered instead. “Nikkie had—has—blond hair. I used to comb hers.”

“Do you miss her?”

“Yes.” Cyprian’s fingers moved up to the top of Moargan’s head, to where his hair was fullest, and he sighed. “As for the light, I don’t really know what to say.”

Moargan said nothing but waited for what was to come.

“I mentioned to you before how the light on Helion is different. I don’t know why or what, but perhaps that’s what arouses these visions I’ve been getting. Or maybe—” Cyprian stopped himself and cleared his throat, leaving Moargan to wonder why he felt uncomfortable. That big mind of his was a mystery. Talking with Cyprian often felt like dancing around a flame. Cyprian let out a soft chuckle. “Maybe it’s our bond.”

“My beautiful lover. It’s because you’re Dariux, give it some time to build up. You were made to be powerful. You were made for destruction and beauty.”

“At least I can make light bulbs explode.” Cyprian rolled his eyes. “Wow.”

Moargan smiled too, mostly because he loved Cyprian’s smile. “You’ve got to start somewhere. Why did you want to keep this from my father when he asked about it?”

Cyprian shrugged, wiping off non-existent dust from his shirt.

“You don’t know? He won’t be upset, you know, if you need time to develop your skills.”

When his lover still didn’t answer, Moargan just pressed him close, eyes fluttering when he felt his puffs of air against the exposed skin of his throat. “I wish I could teleport this Waltr to our place so that we don’t have to move.”

Cyprian smiled in the crook of his neck.

“Hmm. Now that would make my father upset, removing my old room. He’s sentimental like that.” He dropped a kiss onto Cyprian’s head. “Let’s go before we fall asleep. Go home and get warm.”

They climbed off the bed and Cyprian followed him out. He slipped his hand in his and gave him a little squeeze. “Thank you,” he murmured. “For showing me your room. It means a lot to me.”

And such honesty, coming from Cyprian, meant a lot to Moargan too.

W hen they got home, they found the kitchen filled with Luminary. Vandor and Yure sat at the bar, sipping from their beer, and Aviel stood behind the stove, cooking. More Luminary stood by the window, half in position, half casually hung back as they chatted with each other.

“What the fuck’s going on here?” Moargan called out when they entered. “Some house party you forgot to invite me to?”

Vandor barked an order and two uniforms vanished immediately. “Sorry, you came in when we were switching shifts,” he said sheepishly.

Moargan snorted and headed for the fridge. “Yeah, right. Well, you’re lucky, because we wanted to get the fuck out of here anyway. Want a beer, lover?”

Yure came up, a folder in his hand. “A word before you do?” He drew his gaze to Cyprian. “Hi, Cyprian.”

“Hi, Yure.” Cyprian leaned in and snatched the beer from Moargan’s hand, taking a provocative sip. He grinned. “I’ll see you in the bedroom.”

Fuck, when he said it like that…Moargan growled, unable to swallow his desire away. This guy was going to be the end of him.

Yure cleared his throat and Moargan whipped his head around realizing he’d been staring for way too long. Cyprian was gone, but his friends were still here. Smirking. Glowering at each one of them, he finally dragged his gaze to his best friend. “This better be good.”

“Stop thinking with your dick,” Aviel called from the stove. When Moargan stared at those golden eyes, they flashed in a silent challenge. Always a challenge. A gift from his upbringing in foster care. “He’s found something.”

“More contracts,” Yure confirmed. He placed the folder on the bar. “It took them a while to collect all the information, but here it is.”

“What else could there be? I even got a photo of baby Cyprian.” His chest fluttered at the memory of that tiny baby.

“The siblings.” Yure slid the folder over the bar and waited until Moargan flicked through the documents. “Check the bottom of the last page. We finally have the name and signature of Cyprian’s mother.”

“So she agreed to the adoption.”

“She did,” Yure confirmed. “Of all her children. You’re looking at all four adoption contracts. All four babies had the same parents, meaning that Celia Fandi is also Cyprian’s mother.”

“What about these other women Fandi mentioned?”

“ Liar liar liar, ” Aviel sang. He was cutting carrots.

Moargan let out a heavy sigh. He’d hoped Ludo Fandi had forced his wife, and the missing signature on Cyprian’s contract had been a good sign. Turned out she had signed the document regardless. Cyprian would be devastated. “So Cyprian has three full-blooded siblings? Why the fuck would that asshole lie about such a thing?” Something throbbed in his chest at the cruelty of it.

“ Filthy liar’s going to get in trouble. Trouble. Trouble. ” Aviel’s eyes were a golden flame, ready to shoot.

Moargan stared back at the documents. “Do we have any information on these siblings? Any current whereabouts?”

“No,” said Yure. “That’s impossible to know, Moargan. I’m sorry. They were shipped off-planet.”

“Can we at least see which planets they were sent to?”

“That’s not how this works,” Aviel said. Moargan stared at the way the knife slashed the rest of the carrots, glittering in its rapidity. “They’ll need to return by themselves. If they survived the injections, the Dariux in them would call them home. To Helion.”

“The Dariux will call them home?”

Aviel dropped the knife and dried his hands on the towel he’d slung over his shoulder. “Remember what your father said the first time he met Cyprian? Those who were injected with the Dariux enhancements are supposed to return to Helion by themselves. It is the power in them that creates that pull. If Cyprian’s siblings survived all those years, they will come home. When they’re ready.”

Moargan blinked, frowning. “Or they have already returned.”

“Possibly,” Yure agreed. “Regardless, we have no way of checking. Nameless babies were randomly sent off Helion all those years ago. Their destinations aren’t marked on the contracts I got a hold of.”

“You know what I believe?” Aviel left the stove and joined them at the bar, leaning on one of the stools. “I believe that Cyprian came home to you, Moargan. And I believe that your body and mind chose Cyprian in return before you even knew he was Dariux. Hell, you claimed him during your first encounter. Your instincts knew. Your heart knew. Your body sings for him.”

“Fated mates.” Yure frowned. “Are you sure? I mean, does that still exist?”

Aviel huffed. “Clearly.”

“Is that how you think you’ll marry one day?”

Aviel scrunched up his nose. “Me? Nah.”

Moargan looked at his beer as if it was a foreign drink. His thoughts tumbled. This whole concept was starting to get a little overwhelming. “I mean, Cyprian is—” Special. Undeniable. “Mine.” He settled with. He cleared his throat. The word missed the true meaning. “Just to clarify—you called him ‘brother’. Cyprian’s been wondering.”

Aviel slowly shook his head. “I don’t have a biological brother, unfortunately. But if I would have had any, it would have been him. He’s had a lonely journey.”

“Yeah, well.” Moargan got up from his stool and smoothed out his pants. “He’s reached his destination. Now we’ve just got to get to the good stuff.”

“Something else before you go.” Yure looked up from his multi-slate. “You’re not going to like this, but I’ve just got confirmation on Celia Fandi’s whereabouts.”

“Fuck me,” Aviel muttered under his breath.

“Where?” Morgan snarled, suddenly impatient.

Yure’s mouth opened, then closed. He looked away, then looked back at Moargan.

“Well, come on then.”

“She’s at the Helion University of the Living.”

If possible, the room quieted even further.

“ What ?”

“Her file is sealed, but she seems to have vanished from Helion records many years ago.”

Aviel whistled. “Could she have been in there for that long?”

Yure’s gaze was on his multi-slate now, busy typing out a message. “I’ll see if I can find out who classified her file.”

“Don’t bother,” Moargan said, scooping up the documents from the bar. Tipping his head with the documents, he left the kitchen and strolled toward his sleeping quarters, night vision kicking in.

How was Cyprian going to react if he knew where his mother was? He entered the bedroom, not surprised to find his lover already buried under the sheets. Part of Moargan wanted to tell him they knew where his mother was, that his search was nearly over. But Celia was in a hospital. And not just any hospital.

That was unexpected.

What was she there for? And why the fuck was her file sealed? Moargan lit a red cinder cigarette, slumping back against the windowsill. He glanced at his lover, peacefully asleep— fucking finally —then turned up to look at the sky.

He couldn’t just overwhelm Cyprian with news like this. Only yesterday he’d been presented with the shock of his life. His biological father rejected him in public, calling him a monster.

No. Moargan would visit the facility himself tomorrow to check it out. He stared at the circle of red smoke that left his mouth and floated off into the dark air. He couldn’t possibly ask Celia if she knew about a son named Cyprian. She hadn’t named him like that, after all. He contemplated bringing the baby photo for recognition but decided against it. She had signed her agreement to have those babies taken away.

The University of the Living was a notorious hospital. It wasn’t the establishment most victims were taken to. It was a place with history. Unfortunately, Moargan and his family knew that all too well.

It wasn’t a place you could easily get out either.

Moargan sent a quick message to Helianth. He didn’t expect his younger brother to reply, but at least he would know that Moargan was thinking of him. That he was proud of him, regardless of the stupid mission he was on. Once Helianth was back, he’d tell him exactly what he thought of it. For now, he just wanted him safe.

This was unexpectedly difficult. To see his baby brother as the man he had become, and let him go and make his own decisions. When Helianth had wanted to become a Luminary general Moargan had been the only one to vote against it. Of course, that had been overruled by the massive support the others had given him. And he was proud of his younger brother, he was. But losing someone was painful, and the family had already gone through it once.

She wasn't gone. She just wasn’t with them.

And that was so fucking hard.

He took another few drags and felt the drugs kick into his system, nerves relaxing. “Okay, Mama, tonight’s a favorite,” he hummed into the darkness. “This is the story of Taita, the magician of the Circus of Tryst, a planet far, far away from here.” Moargan’s lips curled up in a slow smile as the words brought fresh memories. Of a different time, a different voice. “I know this is your favorite story, Mama. But especially for Helianth, I will give you a different version tonight.”

Moargan lit up another cigarette as he let the words flow. Tonight he had a date with the night. Every now and then, his gaze flicked to the bed, to where Cyprian was sprawled out on the bed, silken comforter blanketing his divine skin, dreaming sweet dreams. And fuck his body and mind for betraying him like this, but Moargan hoped those dreams were of him.