Page 6 of Distant Heart (Vicious Valentine)

There were two buildings of equal distance from the great hall where the main part of Cor Night was being held. Rexton’s feet hesitated as soon as he stepped out into the chill night. Did he head for the sports building, or to the dorms? Neither choice was good.

Chances were, the sports building would be empty, which was like inviting Illya to continue what he’d started in the game room. But the dorms…

Which dorm building was it, anyway?

Rexton didn’t know the layout of the university and most of the stone buildings—especially in the dark—looked the same. He only knew the sports building because he’d seen photos sent from his cousin, who was on the swim team.

Fuck.

His ass stung, his dick was leaking all over his boxers, and he was freezing. He’d stupidly left his jacket slung over one of the leather couches in the game room, having taken it off earlier due to the warmth inside. He regretted that now. Regretted a lot of things…

He shook his head sternly.

Running would not be one of them.

No matter what, he’d teach Illya a lesson. He’d teach Illya that people like him—people like Flix Fulmini, that damned Devil back on Vitality—couldn’t always get exactly what they wanted exactly how they wanted it. The Black Harts and the Devils of Vitality were stupid.

Cor Night was stupid.

Rexton headed toward the dorm building, figuring he could probably find somewhere better once he was there since the building had more lights on. Even if he couldn’t get off campus, there had to be somewhere he could hide. All he had to do was make it until morning and then—

His multi-slate started to ring and when he checked the caller ID he almost didn’t answer.

“What?” not bothering to hide his mood, Rexton left the device on speaker as he trudged through the snow, more than a bit annoyed that no one had bothered to pave the pathways. Almost as though they wanted to make it more difficult for people to move about…

Shit.

They probably did.

Sick motherfuckers.

“Why am I just hearing that you’re off planet?” Aneski’s voice echoed around him.

“Probably because you’ve been too busy with your boyfriend for me to tell you anything.”

There was a moment of silence and then, “Seriously, Rex?”

He sighed and came to a stop beneath the entrance of the dorm. The sign over the stone awning was covered in ice so he couldn’t even make out the name of the building and he moved up onto the porch. “Sorry. I’m just feeling…weird. I needed some time away to collect my thoughts.”

Logically, he understood that was all it was. That he couldn’t really blame Aneski for falling in love or moving on to bigger and better things. Especially when Rexton had firsthand knowledge of the trauma his best friend had been enduring all these years. It was a good thing that Flix and he were together.

But that didn’t change the fact Rexton also felt like he was losing him.

“Let’s take a weekend trip when you get back,” Aneski suggested. “Remember that cabin in Hu’Ottel? That place was cool.”

“Yeah.” They hadn’t been there in ages. “We—”

“There’s a problem with that plan.” Illya stepped out of the dark suddenly, seeming entirely unaffected by the cold weather. He stopped at the bottom of the landing, keeping the three steps that led up to the porch separating them, but there was no mistaking what he was doing.

Blocking the exit.

“Who’s that?” Aneski asked, his concern ringing clearly.

“Rexton isn’t going anywhere this time,” Illya stated in a clipped tone, leaving no room for argument. His steely gaze held Rex’s prisoner as he spoke. “He’s staying here. With me.”

“I’ll call you back.” Rexton hung up. There was no reason for it, but he felt a bit guilty.

“Is that why you’re here? Because you had a fight with your friend?”

Oh. That was why he felt guilty.

“Illya.” Unsure of what to say, Rexton found himself shifting on his feet, going quiet instead. The wind whistled around them, bringing with it the sound of laughter and music in the distance. It was too cold for people to be hanging around outside, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be moving about the same way the two of them currently were.

“I meant it.” Illya moved dauntingly up the steps, using them to punctuate his words as he spoke. “I’m not letting you go, xa’us.”

He retreated instinctually, his head hitting the closed wooden door a second before Illya’s left hand wrapped around his throat and applied enough pressure it had him gasping. Rexton tried to pull him off, tugging on his wrist, but the other man wouldn’t budge.

“Maybe I should have had you run straight into the fray of the party after all. I could have taken you on the dance floor in front of everyone. Made them watch you scream my name. You couldn’t leave then, not with such a public claiming. You’d be branded mine in every sense of the word, with nowhere to go. No rights left to you unless I allowed them.”

Rexton recalled the dangerous subject they’d danced around earlier. Since his mother was originally from Usurn and they sometimes visited his cousin’s family, Rex wasn’t a stranger to the darker customs of the planet. Cor Night was a joke in more than one sense.

The Black Harts didn’t need an excuse to take someone. They could do it in broad daylight any time of the year and their government would be on their side.

“I’m a Vital,” Rexton reminded.

“Do you think your Emperor would fight for you?” Illya scoffed. “My family shares close ties with the Imperials on your homeworld, xa’us. For me, gaining ownership of you is as simple as signing another business deal.”

“You’re taking this too far.” Rexton hoped the other guy didn’t see the way he’d shivered at those words instead of recoiling like he should have. A part of him was disgusted by the fact he reacted at all, but the other part…

Who didn’t want to be wanted? Plus, hadn’t that been why he’d come here in the first place? Because he’d felt left out and forgotten on Vitality?

“I let you have your fun,” Illya growled, “now playtime is over.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Get inside.”

Rexton shook his head. “No.”

“I’m not asking.”

“Not so you can lock me up.” He shoved as hard as he could, sending Illya back a step, but before he could even try to make an actual escape, the Black Hart was back on him.

Illya slammed his palm against the keypad at the side of the door and caged Rexton in while they waited for the locking mechanism to unlatch.

Which was how Rex realized what dorm building he’d ended up in front of.

A curse was on the tip of his tongue when the door unlocked and he was pushed over the threshold, stumbling into the dark. It was only like that for a moment before the sensors kicked in and a bright golden hue lit up the entranceway he was now standing in.

Rexton glanced up at the high ceiling and the dark wooden walls. The entire campus was polished and screamed money, but this…

“I’m curious,” Illya stepped in after him, closing the front door shut with an audible click that had Rexton’s heart skipping a beat, “how did you know this was my building?”

Castle Black, as it was called, wasn’t a castle at all, but an exclusive building on campus where the Black Harts were allowed to reside—if they didn’t opt for private residences off or around the rest of campus. It was probably one of the few buildings inaccessible to the rest of the partygoers, so shouldn’t have been a threat.

Rexton should have realized the organizers of the event would place it as close to the Black Harts lair to make it as easy for them as possible.

“Dumb luck,” Rex muttered. The second Illya stepped forward, he moved back, grimacing when the end of the railing to the curved stairwell dug into the middle of his back suddenly. “Wait!”

When he threw up a hand, Illya paused.

“Let’s at least make this interesting.” Rexton was grasping at straws and they both knew it.

“You’re stalling again, xa’us.”

“I’m not.” He so totally was. “I just didn’t come all this way—”

“No, you came all this way because you had a fight with your friend.”

He bristled. “It wasn’t a fight.”

Illya quirked a brow, silently urging him to continue.

Rexton ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “My best friend has a new boyfriend and I don’t like the guy, okay?”

“Not really. Why don’t you like him?”

“Because he’s got Aneski eating out of the palm of his hand.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes!”

“Because?”

“Forget it.” Rexton glanced away. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Illya probably hadn’t felt alone a day in his life.

“You’re acting like you don’t have any other friends,” the Black Hart quipped.

“I do…” He sighed. “Look, do you know what it’s like to spend all of your time with someone, getting into that routine, and then all of sudden they just leave?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Oh.” Rex deflated some. “I must sound really pathetic to you, huh? Bet you’re wishing you’d picked someone else after all. You could, you know? The night isn’t—”

“This is the one and only warning I’ll be giving you, Rexton,” Illya cut him off, the sudden anger in his tone impossible to miss. “If you ever say something like that again, I’ll lock you up for real. Got it?”

All he could do was nod. He felt pathetic right now. Everything Illya had mentioned about Aneski and Flix was true, after all. It was a good thing that his best friend had finally found happiness, and, if he were being honest, it wasn’t exactly like Aneski was the only one playing to the other man’s tune.

He had Flix wrapped around his finger every bit as much as Flix had him.

Really, they were a good match, and Rex wanted to feel happy for them but…

“It’s not even about Aneski,” Illya boldly stated. “You’re feeling restless. You’re bored, baby. Things back home just aren’t doing it for you like they used to.”

Rexton frowned, wanting to argue, only…He wasn’t entirely wrong about that either. Ever since Aneski and Flix started dating, things with the Shepards had smoothed out. They weren’t working any shady businesses anymore or trying to pretend to be something they weren’t. Rex and the rest of the guys no longer felt like they had to watch their backs whenever they were in Brumal mafia territory.

He pretty much traveled between the house he shared with his friends to school and back. Sometimes they’d hit up one of the local bars, maybe a club if none of them had an upcoming due date on a project. His family was long gone, so all he had was school, his art, and his friends.

“There’s only a year left before I graduate and I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do with my life after that,” he admitted. There were plenty of galleries he could try for, companies he could attempt to get work from. But either way, freelance was sort of his only avenue at the moment. Was he good enough to get his own showings? Yes. But still.

The prospect didn’t excite him like it once had.

“Some days I wake up wondering why I wanted to be an artist in the first place.” His parents had cheered him on before his dad had accepted another job off planet. Now they only saw each other once or twice every other year if they were lucky, and just the thought of calling them up to confess he’d maybe made a mistake choosing sculpting made his stomach churn.

“You didn’t make a mistake,” Illya said suddenly, smirking when Rexton’s head snapped up and his eyes widened. “What you’re thinking is written all over your face. Don’t be so glum. You just need some inspiration, that’s all. Some excitement to help reignite that passion you’ve always carried. For that, you’ve come to the right place.”

The air around them seemed to shift, and all at once, Rexton remembered what it was they were both actually doing here.

He angled his body to avoid bumping into the stair railing again but froze when the look in Illya’s eyes darkened.

“Let’s at least make this interesting,” the Black Hart parroted his earlier words, laughing when Rexton grimaced. “You seem like you’re in dire need of getting your heart pumping. How about I help you with that?”

Rex lifted his hand a second time, but Illya merely shook his head.

“I gave you a moment to prepare, and now the moment has passed. Here’s the new game, baby. Run. If you can stay out of my reach until morning, I won’t insist on holding you here. But the second I catch you, you’re mine to do with as I please, even keep.”

He shouldn’t agree to those terms, but it became apparent he didn’t exactly have a choice when Illya started randomly counting down from ten. For a split second, his mind blanked and he stood there dumbly, mentally scrambling to catch up with what was really going on, but then sense returned to him.

Turning tail, Rex made a run for it for the second time that night.