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Kylix grinned. “Oh, he’s definitely going to Archer’s.”

Moargan glanced over his glass. “That sounds like a bad decision.”

Helianth’s mouth curved. “That’s usually how I know it’s worth making, brother.”

Cyprian made a soft, scandalized sound. “Oh, he’s absolutely going to Archer’s.”

Ryneth smiled at that, but his head felt heavy. His whole body did after a day like this. He was tired. And though he was glad they’d all come to celebrate, he was ready for them to go home.

For him and Daven to be alone in the penthouse.

The thought sent a small flutter through him.

He pushed off the counter, gathered a few empty glasses, and carried them into the kitchen. He’d barely started washing up when Theo stepped in and held out two empty glasses.

Ryneth took them and set them down beside the sink. He didn’t know what to tell the other man.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Ryneth said quietly, “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Theo’s fingers tightened once before he let his hands fall empty at his sides.

Ryneth looked down at the counter. “I wanted him dead.”

Theo finally looked at him then, eyes red and wrecked, and there was no accusation in them. Just grief too large to point anywhere clean. “I know that too.”

“For what he did to Helion. And to you.” Ryneth swallowed. “When you ran to him… there was still current in him. I could feel it under his skin. How did you touch him?”

Theo stared at his hands for a second too long. “I don’t know.”

He was still looking down when Aviel came up behind him and caught him by the throat.

Theo jolted, then stilled.

“There you are. We’re going home.”

Theo stayed tense for half a second before he gave in to the hold.

“Thanks for having us,” Aviel said. Then he steered Theo out of the kitchen, and the conversation ended with them.

One by one, the others drifted out.

By the time the penthouse finally quieted, the bottles were half-empty, the plates abandoned, and the city below had thinned to scattered gold.

Daven touched the back of Ryneth’s neck and led him onto the quiet roof terrace. “Come with me, baby.”

The night air hit cool against Ryneth’s skin after the heat inside. Helion burned below them in scattered gold, the same city they had stood above before, on another night, when everything between them had still felt sharp and uncertain.

Daven closed the glass door behind them and stepped in close, his hand sliding to Ryneth’s throat, thumb brushing once over his pulse before settling at the back of his neck.

Ryneth searched Daven’s face and went still. “I thought it would feel different when it was finally over.”

Daven’s thumb moved once over his pulse. “And what does over feel like?”

Letting out a breath, Ryneth looked over the lights below. “Like something ended.”

Daven stepped closer and brushed his mouth over Ryneth’s once, close enough that he had to tip his head back. “It did.”