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C yprian sighed against warm skin, burying himself as deep as he could in the most intoxicating scents—pine tar, opium, and the remainder of their lovemaking. Arrogance. Home.

Mate.

Moargan was snoring softly in Cyprian’s ear, one of his heavy arms draped around Cyprian’s midriff, a heavy thigh wrapped around his waist. He must have fallen asleep sometime during the night. Cyprian had seen him sitting on his spot by the windowl, smoking and texting, for hours. Only after he’d heard the Imperial bark that he needed to get some sleep, his voice so loud that it had reverberated through the entire room, did Moargan come to bed.

Memories of last night started flicking through his mind. He’d been on his way to Archer. Cyprian blinked. He remembered Archer laughing during their call, but he didn’t have any recollection of being at his house. Had they met at campus? “And how did I end up here?” He whispered to himself, still feeling dazed.

Archer. His gaze shot to his wrist, and he reached out to check for messages. His friend had texted him, asking when he’d show up. Three, four messages, the final one just before five yesterday afternoon. He’d left and gone home from the underground parking.

So, he hadn’t been at Archer’s.

Theo. The blond-haired guy had been there. But where? Black Mohawk. The press conference. Cyprian’s eyes widened as his memory flooded back.

His eyes popped open. “Moargan?” He didn’t want to wake up the Imperial Prince, knowing that Moargan needed more sleep if he was going to search for his brother the next day, but this was important. It could change everything. And after what had happened yesterday, after all the things Moargan had gone through, he owed him clarity.

The room was covered in pitch-dark, which Moargan preferred. But Cyprian needed his attention. “Moargan, please.”

A light flickered.

The Imperial prince rumbled something in his sleep, mind still far away, though his hand blindly reached out to find Cyprian’s. “Helianth?” He jumped up. “Brother!” He brought his gaze to his multi-slate and started scrolling. “How long was I asleep?”

“Not much. You need your strength…”

“Good light.”

Cyprian watched as Moargan climbed out of bed and headed for the door. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Orders from the Imperial, I’m afraid,” came the muffled sound. There was a growl, followed by the unmistakable slap of skin hitting skin. And then Moargan was shoved back into the room by two uniforms. He looked furious.

“You can’t just keep me here when my brother is missing!”

“Three hours more is all your father asks.” Cyprian recognized Zimeon’s voice, the Imperial’s right hand. “You need your rest, Moargan. Then a car will pick you up and you can boss them around for as long as you want.”

“You fucking—” The door shut and Moargan punched the wooden panels, growling.

“Angel?”

Moargan stopped banging and shuddered visibly. He turned to face Cyprian, his gaze wide and filled with a sadness that made Cyprian’s eyes burn. “I love it when you call me that,” Moargan whispered.

“Come back to bed, please.”

“I need to find him.” Moargan swallowed but stumbled back. “What if he needs me? What if they’ve left him out there to rot like they did Kylix? What if he’s already dead? My father doesn’t understand. He—he—” His voice was ragged, and he seemed lost. He didn’t finish the phrase.

“Come here.” Cyprian’s arms squeezed Moargan’s broad frame, pulling the warm sheets around them. “Your father is protecting you. A break, that’s what he’s giving you. Nothing more. Let me take care of you, let me talk to you, then we’ll wash, and you can go out there again. We will bring him home.”

“Home.” Moargan’s nostrils flared, and he shook his head lightly. “Yes.”

Cyprian grabbed Moargan’s hand and pressed their palms together. “I woke you, because I believe—I believe I’m ready to embrace my Dariux.” As soon as the words had left his mouth, what felt like a tornado rumbled through the pit of his stomach, strengthening in power with each thorough wave. “Look at me.”

Moargan did, opening his eyes, and gifting him with an amethyst glow that stole his breath. A glow that set everything aflame.

“Good light.” Cyprian stared at their connected hands. “Look at that.”

Silver threads showed through Cyprian’s skin, running from his palm up his arm. Moargan’s mouth fell open, and he looked up at his arm, only to see more of the brilliant glow, all the way up to his shoulder.

“Take it off,” he growled. He helped Cyprian get into a sitting position. They pulled up his sleep shirt, gasping at the way Cyprian’s entire body seemed to radiate with the silver thread.

“It’s the Dariux,” Cyprian whispered in awe, licking his teeth. “I know it is.”

“What is it?” Moargan asked.

“I don’t know. But it’s really cool. I think you do that, through our bond.”

“It’s incredible.” Moargan traced the thread with his fingertips, his expression unreadable. “Is this why you woke me?”

Cyprian’s skin warmed with pleasure. “No. But memories are coming back. About yesterday. And I thought, maybe, hopefully, it can help us find Helianth.”

“Tell me everything.”

Cyprian cleared his throat. His flesh radiated. “After you left, Archer called about this great place for our assignment. We agreed to meet up.”

Moargan hummed, fingers playing with the fading light on Cyprian’s skin, until the glow had entirely vanished. His own eyes had also dimmed to a normal shade of purple.

“I—there’s something I haven’t told you,” Cyprian admitted. He took in a deep breath, then continued, “I told you about the visions, but there’s more.” Moargan didn’t speak, just kept on caressing Cyprian’s skin. They sat, cross-legged, across from each other on the bed. “There’s this voice. It keeps on coming back. It’s like it tries to connect with me. I know that must sound stupid, that’s why I didn’t?—”

Moargan’s finger pressed against Cyprian’s lips. “Not stupid. Keep on talking.”

Cyprian shivered, then gave him a faint nod. “So, when Archer told me about this place, I just…I just felt the need to go there. It was like—like it was calling for me. ”

“Where was this place?”

“At the port.” Cyprian shivered as more recollections came back to him.

Moargan ushered him back onto his back and slid the sheets over them. When they were huddled up and warm, he asked, “And? Was there something for you there?”

Cyprian shook his head. “No. I never got there. I mean—I did, but—I saw Theo.”

“Theo?” Moargan growled. His eyes flashed. “What did that fucker want?”

“He drove by when I was waiting for the bus. He gave me a lift.”

“He gave you a lift ? You got in Theo ’s car after what happened here in this very, fucking bedroom? Have you lost your mind?”

Cyprian’s hackles rose. “Something that you did to him, you mean. You burned him, not me.”

“He stole from you,” Moargan reminded him.

“They are using him like a puppet.”

Moargan huffed. “Who? His little friends?”

“Yes. They call him Runt.”

“Why did you decide not to go there after bumping into Theo?” Moargan asked instead.

“That’s where my mind gets a bit blurry,” Cyprian admitted. He squeezed his eyes shut to bring the memory back. “There was the car ride with Theo and his obnoxious friends . We all watched the press conference. I’m so sorry about your brother. We will find him.”

Moargan huffed, but his eyes turned dark. “Whoever’s responsible will be punished.” He turned his gaze back to Cyprian. “Then what happened?”

“Then nothing. They dropped me off at the port.” Cyprian frowned. He was missing something, the memory only returning in slow flutters. Theo’s warning. “ He is watching , is what Theo said.”

Moargan’s lips pressed into a fine line, nostrils flaring with fury. “Did he threaten you?”

“No,” Cyprian rushed. He didn’t know why he felt the need to protect Theo. “It was more like an admission.”

“Which made you decide to go home.”

Cyprian pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m—I don’t remember.” Had he gone home? “No.” He had collapsed against Theo. They had left him there, mind fogging.

Moargan shook his head, eyes hardening. “No, indeed. You never made it home. Instead, you were found at the station. Medics found traces of the same drugs as we found in Kylix.”

“Drugs?” Cyprian frowned. “Yes, I remember feeling weak. But drugs? How?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. Anything, lover. Any detail will do. Could they have injected something into your system?”

Cyprian shook his head.

“Did they give you anything to drink?”

“No.”

“Eat?”

“No.” He paused. “They gave me candy. Black Mohawk did.”

“Who?”

“That guy from college with this huge, black mohawk.”

Moargan was already typing away on his multi-slate. “Anything else?”

“Yeah.” Cyprian forced his mind to cooperate. “They told me what it was made of. Theo makes them, they said. Some typical, Helian fruit?”

“Kayde,” Moargan growled. “That motherfucker Theo.” He looked up, glare morphing into softness when he brushed away a raven lock from Cyprian’s face. “You did really well.”

“Is it helpful?”

“Very.” Their palms connected. “I was so worried about you. And now I’m so proud.” He smiled. “Turns out you were on a kick-ass mission that may give us the breakthrough we need.”

The words made Cyprian smile. “Well, I want to make a difference too. My strength might not be anything like yours, but I’m not some fragile puppet.”

“Is that how they made you feel back home?”

Cyprian bit on his lower lip. It was ironic how yesterday’s events were still blurred, but his childhood memories were clear. “Weak, inferior, unloved.” The words fell from his mouth, sharp and ugly. But this time, they weren’t accompanied by tears. Nor did his chest clench.

“Tell me,” Moargan demanded. “Tell me what it was like growing up the way you did.”

Cyprian rolled himself up until he was propped into a sitting position. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to share with Moargan until the Imperial Prince asked him for it. “Back home, there was no place to voice your thoughts. We were told what to do and we had to obey. If we didn’t, we were punished. We got the stick, or worse, we were sent to the attic. Back home, I didn’t have a room to myself. I had a bed. All my belongings were stuffed under the mattress.”

“It’s where you kept the data chip.”

Cyprian smiled. The data chip…that already felt like a lifetime ago. “When I turned eighteen, my foster parents wanted to climb the social ladder. They paid my college fees if only I’d find my way through the crowd and befriend the elite. I’d like to think I did pretty well, becoming friendly with the Demons of Foxglove Grove.”

“The Demons of Foxglove? I’ve heard of them but never been introduced.”

Cyprian snorted. “And you won’t be by me. Our friendship didn’t last. When I found out that my parents wanted me to become part of their club, I decided it was time to choose for my own life. My truth. I felt this unexplainable pool toward Helion.”

“And now you know what it is. Me.” Moargan dropped a kiss onto his nose, making Cyprian giggle. “And you aren’t fragile. Not to the world. But to me, you’ll always be, because I want to protect you, I want to keep you safe.” He climbed off the bed and returned with a black, velvet pouch. “This is for you.”

“What is it?

“For you.” He took out the white gem.

Cyprian gasped. “It’s beautiful.”

“Let me put it in. Open your mouth and show me your teeth. This is my way of protecting you when I’m not around.”

Cyprian felt his palm heat when Moargan reached for his incisor with long, deft fingers. His veins crackled with a need that settled inside his heart and made it tick fast.

“Hmmm.” Moargan leaned in, and Cyprian could feel him breathe in greedily. “Yes. Love how you pant for me, lover.” His mouth brushed over the sore spot on Cyprian’s throat, and Cyprian was disappointed when he didn’t do more than leave a small kiss behind. “This is the jewel I give you as your bonded. We will insert the other ones during the formal ceremony. We will show the entire nation that we belong together.” Moargan’s lips crashed on his, and Cyprian yielded when Moargan’s tongue swept over his mouth, demanding entry. The kiss was intoxicating, just like the surging connection that buzzed between them. “My kingdom,” Moargan murmured against Cyprian’s mouth. “My prince.” Another kiss, this one lingering until they both ran out of breath. “Come. Let’s shower.”

They padded toward the bathroom. Cyprian hummed in contentment when Moargan slowly started to undress him.

“ I t’s time.” Moargan brushed his lips over Cyprian’s and left the foggy bathroom. “There’s a car waiting for me.”

Cyprian felt the need to hold Moargan just that little longer. To feel his heartbeat under the firmness of his own skin. But now was not the time. A strike of their palm would have to do. “Good luck, angel. Bring him home.”

“I fucking will.” Moargan’s multi-slate dinged. When his dipped gaze lingered for too long, Cyprian frowned.

“Moargan? What’s wrong? Is it Helianth?”

“It’s Kylix.” Moargan looked up. “He’s finally woken up. He wants to see me.” His hands flew over his multi-slate. “I’ll go and see him first. Come with me?”

“You go.”

Moargan’s coat dangled in the air. “Is there something else you’re not telling me?”

“No. But I need to go back there, Moargan. I—” Cyprian licked his lips. “ I told you about this pull I feel. It’s like these voices are calling out for me. I know it’s dangerous on the streets right now. I know that you don’t want me to go?—”

“You’re damn right.” Moargan clenched his jaw. He looked like a wild animal, barely kept at bay. He reached out, cupping Cyprian’s chin and tilting him up so they could face each other. “Listen carefully. Do I understand why you want to put yourself in danger? No. Do I want to stop you from going? Yes, fucking yes. But I won’t. You know I believe in you. You know I believe that you will be powerful. And perhaps this whole thing is—” He gestured with his hands, then let out a heavy sigh. “Necessary. But…three things,” he added before Cyprian could open his mouth to thank him. “You take the guards and keep them with you at all times. You keep connected for my calls. And you stay safe. Because I will tear the world down if something happens to you. ”

“Thank you.” Cyprian wrapped his arms around Moargan and pressed a kiss on his lips, reveling in that unique scent of pine tar and opium.

The Imperial prince curled an arm around his nape and yanked him closer; their kiss was a promise. Their palms touched, the bond knitting together, fueled by desire and connection. “Keep me with you. Let me know where you are. And if you need me, I’ll be there.”

T his time, the ride to the port was more comfortable. The two guards in the front of the car sat in silence as they made their way through the endless block of colourful skyscrapers that was Zephyr’s upper side.

“Where do you want us to park the car?” One of the Luminary guards asked when they finally reached the parking area.

“Row twelve.” Cyprian peered outside the window. Three planets hung low in the clear skyline, their bright colours making it seem as if they truly were close by. “There.” Ahead of them was the building. “Stop here.”

The moment he got out of the car, Cyprian felt the familiar tension form in his head. He pushed the door of the building—already destabilized and off its hinges—and peered down.

His vision fractured, and he saw a different set of stairs. Steep as they led toward a voice, a single light lingering. Guidance.

Dariux.

Cyprian pushed down the stairs, the guards muttering behind him as they hurried to keep up, and his eyes had to adjust to the approaching darkness that made his stomach roll and his mind rattle.

“Archer?” The name echoed around the metal spiral staircase. His friend had already texted him. He was down here, painting. Cool air welcomed him once his feet hit the ground, and he shivered. As far as his sight could reach, he saw the underground parking lot. The space, once occupied by the city of Zephyr, is mostly abandoned nowadays. Vehicles were dotted around, looking forlorn in its obscurity.

“Archer!”

Can you hear me?

Down here, the voice felt closer. Cyprian’s teeth chattered at the sudden rush of cool air. “H-hello?”

Nothing.

“Archer?”

Hear me.

Cyprian reached for his head and fisted his hair with a pained groan as pressure built inside his head.

Hear me.

“I hear you,” he choked.

Good light. Finally.

He felt a click inside his head and the pressure became less, replacing it with a sense of awareness. A heavy silence that, if possible, made Cyprian feel even more on edge.

“Hello?” He whispered.

It took a few seconds. Then, as if an alarm had gone off, that voice repeated,

Help him. Help him, help him, help him, help him…

“Cyprian?” Archer lit up the path he’d come through with his flashlight. “Over here!”

He found Archer behind his canvas, a goofy smile on his lips. “At last! I thought you’d never make it here. Where did you go yesterday?”

“Moargan called,” Cyprian lied. “I’m sorry.”

Archer grinned. “Don’t worry. I only stayed for an hour afterward myself, I didn’t want to linger on the streets after five. Did you bring your gear?”

“Nah,” Cyprian’s gaze swept the place. Perhaps it was an interesting location, from a morbid point of view. “I need to find inspiration first.”

“Here. Have a candy.”

Cyprian froze when his eye caught the pink wrapper. He snatched it out of Archer’s hand, frowning. It was identical to the one Theo had handed him. “Who gave this to you?”

Archer shrugged. “Same guy as the one who told me about this place. He took Professor Dai’s class last year and is in my photography class.”

“It’s not Theo?”

“Theo?” He frowned. “No, but now that you mention it. He looked like him.”

Cyprian unwrapped the candy. On the inside of the pink paper, he saw curly letters. He’d missed those yesterday.

“ Attica . Good light, Archer, did you watch the press conference yesterday?”

His friend shook his head. “I was down here, painting. Waiting for you to arrive.” His gaze narrowed. “Why? You’re looking all funny.”

“Cyprian?” One of his guards called out. The heavy door banged shut behind them as their flashlights switched on. Cyprian’s stomach churned. They were making too much noise.

“This candy.” Cyprian showed Archer the wrapper. “See this?”

“Attica,” Archer read.

“During the press conference yesterday, they were identified as the killer.”

“What?” Archer’s eyes widened in shock.

“This guy, who gave you this candy, the one who looked like Theo. Was his name Bekn?”

Archer nodded carefully. “Yes, it was.”

Good light, Bekn. If it wasn’t for the physical similarity Theo shared with him, he would have already forgotten the guy who’d trained him on the space shuttle. I'm a known figure in the right places. Those had been his exact words.

“Have you eaten any of the candy?” Cyprian asked instead.

Archer shook his head. “I was waiting for you.”

“Okay, good. Just…don’t eat them. They contain drugs.”

“Are you saying…” Archer swallowed thickly.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this place.”

“Cyprian,” the Luminary guard boomed. What answered was the unmistakable sound of voices. People. Hushed whispers that were too loud, giggles and a scream, and then the sudden flare of light, directed at the silhouette of a man who stood between the parked hover cars.

Archer screamed.

There was another flicker of light. The stranger was close. Cyprian could feel him. “Archer, listen carefully to me now,” he whispered, his eyes still on the lurking shadow. “Things are happening. I can’t explain it. But the murderer is close. And this place…you need to get the hell out of here.”

Help him.

There was another flickering vision. Suddenly, Cyprian could see the stranger, could stare into those desolate, grey eyes.

“He’s watching.” Theo had warned him. Had he been talking about his own brother?

“Do you remember where the door is?”

Archer nodded.

“I’m here!” Cyprian called out. A flashlight shone in his direction immediately.

“Good,” a guard replied. “We’ll come your way.”

“No!” He pushed Archer toward the light. “We’ll come your way. Go,” he mouthed to his friend.

Archer frowned, realization dawning in his eyes. “Not without you.”

Before Cyprian could object, there was a popping sound, followed by a string of swear words. One of the guards went down. Archer screamed again.

“Cyprian!” The other Luminary guard shouted. His light flashed on both of them, and he headed their way, only to stop when he was a few steps away. Cyprian stared in horror as the man’s mouth opened, eyes wide in shock. A slither of blood trickled out of the corner of his lips as he stared into eternity. He’d been shot. He’d only been a student.

“Go!” Cyprian pushed Archer for the exit. “Please. Tell Moargan—” He couldn’t finish that phrase. A vision hit him with such ferocity that it took his breath away. He stumbled to the ground, groaning when the pressure once more ordered access. “I’m afraid,” he whispered into the darkness. “I’m afraid to let you in.”

This is your destiny, the woman whispered. Embrace your Dariux.

Cyprian’s vision blacked out. The gem on his incisor pulsed. He felt Archer holding on to him, pulling on his arm, forcing him to move. As they stumbled through the darkness, their lights were abandoned. Cyprian felt his palm heat and saw gold liquid flood his veins in search of him. His mate called out to him. Moargan was worried. And all Cyprian could do was blink as things slowly fell into place, not even surprised to realize that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness. His night vision had kicked in.

But his eyesight portrayed another scene. One of light climbing countless stairs. Down the brightness went, illuminating the darkness of the dungeons.

Then he saw him . Helianth. Prince of Helion.

“Archer!” He called through the fog. His eyes popped open. “Thank light, you found me.” Cyprian then understood. How Helianth had begged him to be saved.

His mind clicked back to the present.

“Helianth,” he called out, but he no longer saw the prince.

“Cyprian,” Archer sobbed. “I need you to walk. I can’t carry you myself.”

“No!” Cyprian tried to pull himself free. “They have Moargan’s brother!”

Slow clapping poisoned the tense air. Next to him, Archer sucked in a breath of air.

“Well done,” a voice said. “A bit slow, but at last, the puzzle is solved.” More clapping. Faster now, more hands. A mocking sound that grated Cyprian’s ears. There was the unmistakable whooshing sound of a whip slapped on the skin, followed by a pained wail.

“Oh yes, Helianth Zephyranth. The nation’s favorite Imperial Prince. He’s also…how do those Imperials like to describe their victims? A screamer .”

People laughing in the dark.

Cyprian’s blood ran cold.

Lights flickered to life, creating a flickering glow in the abandoned parking lot.

A man with platinum curls came forward through the shadows.

“Bekn.” His name fell off Cyprian’s tongue in distaste. It didn’t seem to waver the other man, who smiled a wide, menacing smile.

“Hello again, Cyprian.”