Page 20

Daven shrugged. “He was at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“He had orders not to let anyone in.” Milanov’s amethyst eyes flashed as he looked at Daven. “Orders you disobeyed. Tell me, nephew, does your spontaneous stay have anything to do with your sudden desire to spend more time at the Green Mansion?”

Daven snorted, but his mind was racing. “They were painting my penthouse, I told you. I needed somewhere to stay. Besides, you have more than enough space.”

Milanov rumbled at that, but Daven could feel the Imperial’s eyes on him as he slid his fingers down to Ryneth’s long, slender ones, icy blue veins throbbing at his wrists. “That I do. And I like having the company, even though I’m probably a terrible host at the moment, with a busy agenda. By the way, Kylix said you did well on your first mission.”

Daven didn’t know what to say to that. With Milanov it was never clear if the man was being frank or being an asshole. That was probably a family trait.

Slowly, unwillingly, he let go, leaving his hand suspended in mid-air when Ryneth’s breathing broke into a hitch.

Was he waking up?

His head rolled on the pillow. A gasp tore from his throat. Then his eyes snapped open, his gaze unfocused with pain.

“Zimeon, the patient’s waking,” Daven heard the Imperial bark through his multi-slate, but all he could do was stare at those silver eyes. How could he have missed those thick, light lashes that flashed pale against his skin?

Ryneth tried to move, but a groan escaped him as his muscles cramped against the sheets.

“Stay still.” Milanov rested a hand on the bed rail. “The doctor’s coming.”

Ryneth didn't listen. Panic flared in his eyes before it vanished again. He tried to sit up, but his frame shook with the effort. “Where… Where am I? Please⁠—”

“You’re safe,” Milanov soothed. “You’re in my home. The Imperial residence on Helion.”

Ryneth’s eyes widened, looking far from reassured. The sheets twisted tight in his grip. “Helion?” he croaked. “Imperials? Why⁠—”

“You were taken by criminals when you came to Helion,” Milanov said. “We brought you out.”

“What about the others?” Ryneth asked, the words dragging out of him.

“We found them.” Milanov adjusted the blanket higher over him. “They were removed before we reached the place where they kept you, but we recovered them afterward. You were the only one still inside.”

Daven watched the man struggle for air, his chest barely moving under the sheets as he listened to his uncle’s words. Did he remember what had happened to him?

“We need to know who did this to you,” Milanov continued, “so we can catch them. Any information is good information.”

Ryneth shook his head. His mouth trembled in a way that made Daven both horny and annoyed as fuck. What was it about this man that had him panting like a dog?

Ryneth’s gaze dragged over the sheets, then finally up, to stare at his uncle. “The men… ship…visors… they… C-Con… Concordant.”

At that moment, the door opened and Zimeon came bursting in with two nurses. Within seconds, Milanov and Daven were both edged gently toward the wall as the medical team took over.

“Concordant,” Milanov mused. “I’ve never heard that name before. You?”

Daven shook his head, frowning.

If Kylix had hit the skyscraper for Attica and Ryneth was naming someone else, then this had never been just Attica. Absentmindedly, he watched as Zimeon and his team tried to restrain Ryneth, who had grown more agitated and was trying to climb out of the bed.

Daven let his air circle the other man, pinning him with invisible force to the bed, rendering his limbs heavy and unable to move.

Next to him, Milanov spoke into his multi-slate, issuing orders to Kylix, but Daven barely heard any of it as Zimeon pumped Ryneth full of sedatives until the man’s head fell back on the pillow.

His eyes glazed as he stared at the ceiling, his breath coming in shallow hitches.

Milanov lowered the multi-slate. “Let’s talk to our boy before he falls asleep again.”

Zimeon stepped aside, giving them space at the bedside.