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Kylix blinked. Then his lips twitched. “Is that what you think? Or what you fear?”

Ryneth huffed. “I don’t fear anything. I’m simply stating a fact.”

“Have you already taken a good look at my cousin? He’d turn the entire Velaryn Reach upside down to save you. Do you know what that means, Ryneth?”

Daven’s hand squeezed the smaller one tighter, his rings digging into Ryneth’s clammy skin. He didn’t reply.

“I thought so. Vandor, how far are we?”

“Five minutes.”

“And the other units?”

“They’re already on standby, sir.”

“Good.” Kylix scanned his multi-slate, then lifted his gaze back to Ryneth. “Now. How many?”

“I don’t know,” Ryneth snapped.

Kylix’s brow lifted. “How come you don’t know?”

“Because I was kept alone. I already told you. I caused an accident.”

“Yes. The static,” Kylix said flatly. “I remember. That still doesn’t answer how many.”

Daven tried to imagine what it must have been like for Ryneth. Locked up. Shackled. His static the only thing that had come to his rescue. The thought hit him like a punch to the gut, sharp and ugly.

He should have been there sooner. Should have torn that whole place apart before Ryneth ever had to survive it alone. He’d have burned the world down for him. He’d⁠—

But he had been there. He’d been the one to pull Ryneth’s battered body from that collapsing building.

Then his uncle had handed Ryneth to him, and him alone.

Anger replaced the earlier feeling of sadness.

He was not going to give up this man, who had been in his bed, whose body he had already claimed.

Daven let out a short, disbelieving breath.

“Are you all right?” Ryneth asked softly, squeezing his hand as if he wasn’t the one about to walk into a death trap.

Daven looked at him for a second, almost wanting to laugh. “You’re asking me?”

Ryneth’s mouth twitched. “Just answer the question.”

“No,” Daven said. “You?”

Ryneth just smiled, but his eyes, those silver eyes framed by impossibly long pale lashes, were full of terror.

Yes, Ryneth was terrified. Daven could feel it in the way his static snapped against Daven’s skin, leaving tiny sparks in its wake. And he had every right to be.

“Yure, talk to me.” Kylix kept his gaze on Ryneth as a voice crackled through his multi-slate.

“Head for the south sector,” Yure replied. “There’s still an old steelworks grid. That’s where you go.”

“Are we at the refinery?” Daven looked outside the window. He hadn’t even noticed they’d left the city.

He’d been too caught up in Ryneth. Always Ryneth.