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The memory dragged him backward before he could stop it.

He was standing at the Ward in the black before dawn, boots soaked through, fingers numb around a cracked pulse-lamp while the older boys laughed at anyone who shook. Guarding the wall wasn’t service. It was what they made you do if you were poor enough to be useful.

The wall cut the city in two. On one side was the Ward. On the other, whatever they were all told to fear.

When his shift ran long, he went home cold and hungry. And when he stumbled back at sunrise, there was no comfort waiting for him. Just another day to survive.

There was only one rule at the wall: don’t fail, because nobody will come to save you.

Ryneth had learned early that fear didn’t matter. Only whether you were still standing when morning came.

But here, on Helion, everything was different. And somehow he’d gotten himself caught up in the web of the Imperial family. What had his fellow Dürens said on the spacecraft? Something about the Imperial family being as cruel as they were just?

Still, he held his chin high and kept his eyes on the other man.

Daven smirked, all sharp amber eyes and lazy arrogance. He knew the effect he had on him. Knew that he was standing too close and didn’t give two fucks about it.

He also looked like he’d been pacing outside the door, waiting for permission he didn’t need. His collar was unbuttoned, his blond hair mussed, and when he reached out a ringed finger and nearly traced the shape of Ryneth’s lips, Ryneth couldn’t help but shiver.

Something was not right when Daven was near. It wasn’t just fear. It was worse than that, because some treacherous part of him felt the man coming before he even touched him.

“Touch me and I’ll bite,” he snarled.

“Yeah?” Daven tilted his head, gaze dropping to Ryneth’s mouth. “Do it.”

“I’m serious.” Ryneth tried to speak around the fingers Daven now pressed to his mouth. Asshole. “If you don’t⁠—”

He couldn’t finish, because Daven dipped his finger past his lips, the rings heavy and cold against his mouth.

Ryneth’s stomach dipped with something that felt awfully close to arousal. He hadn’t been lying. Closing his teeth around Daven’s fingers, he bit. Hard.

Daven curled his lips, nostrils flaring. “You’re going to regret that, aethera.”

But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned impossibly closer, like the bite had only made him want more.

Ryneth didn’t care. He wouldn’t let go.

Even with his teeth sunk into Daven’s fingers, his insides still gave that awful, traitorous pull, like his body had mistaken danger for relief.

The air changed. That was the only warning he got before a cool sensation slid over his spine, up his nape, then down his throat.

Daven didn’t even move his hands.

It spread over his skin, cool and present, making Ryneth’s cock stir. When it slipped inside his mouth, tickling his lips and tongue, Ryneth moaned.

What the hell?

He jerked his head back, tried to let go of Daven’s fingers to shut the invading air out, but he wasn’t strong enough.

Never strong enough.

Ryneth hated it. Hated him. For leaving him open like this, his own venom used against him, together with this cruel hush that left nothing good in its wake.

Daven grinned like he’d been waiting for it. “Oh. Now you’re listening.”

He slowly pulled his finger back, only to push it in again. And out. Daven fucked his mouth with his ringed finger, and Ryneth lay there, paralyzed by the air Daven held tight around his wrists. He couldn’t move. Could only take it.

“You’re furious,” he murmured, sliding his finger in and out of Ryneth’s mouth. “But you need to understand that you don’t get to start things with me and then pretend you’re in control.”