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“Don’t touch him, Daven,” Vandor snapped.
“Shut the fuck up,” Daven replied, stepping forward like he meant to block Vandor out completely. Then he stopped. Just for a second. His eyes flicked over Ryneth’s face, something strange and sharp flashing there before his jaw locked. “Just shut up.”
Vandor wasn’t impressed, turning to Ryneth instead. “Kylix wants to speak with you, Ryneth. It’s important.”
“Why?” The words came out small.
He couldn’t trust anyone. After all, he was just property.
Dressed up.
But for who?
His gaze drifted from Vandor to Daven, and his heart clenched.
Daven stood there watching him, broad and still, like nothing in the world could move him unless he chose it.
He didn’t look like a buyer.
That was the problem.
Daven had taken him from the hospital with a doctor’s approval and a prince’s smile. Whether he’d bought him or not, he was still part of the same machine.
And somehow that felt worse.
What had Ryneth thought anyway? He should have fought harder that night in the cage. He should never have come here.
Maybe he should jump those two hundred floors and be done with it. That seemed easier than being given to a stranger. Or perhaps Daven was his stranger.
“We go now.” Vandor was already moving, the guards falling in beside him.
“Can’t you see he’s upset?” Daven stepped in close again, and it took effort not to lean into the warmth of him.
But no. He couldn’t be trusted. No one could be trusted.
“Back off, Daven.” Ryneth curled his fingers into his palms, his nails drawing blood. He felt snappy, pent-up, afraid. “If Kylix wants to talk to me, I will talk to him. Lead the way, Vandor.”
Ignoring Daven’s nearly childish complaints, he followed the tall guard out of the Academy and toward the waiting hover cars.
Shoving past Daven’s outstretched arm, he climbed into the vehicle, his boots echoing like gunfire on the metal floor. He stared at his wrist, the amber notification fading into the shadows of the car.
He didn’t look at Daven.
He didn’t look at the guards.
For me.
The words wouldn’t leave him alone.
Something was wrong. And somehow, it was already closing in.
11
DAVEN
“You look familiar. Have we met before?” Ryneth asked when Kylix walked into Milanov’s office.
Daven caught him staring at Kylix’s black-and-gold Luminary uniform and immediately hated it. “I have one of those too,” he muttered. He wanted Ryneth’s eyes on him, not on Kylix. The man had been tense as a leaf ever since they’d left the Academy.
