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The thought made him slide down the wall, his legs useless.

“Oh no, you aren’t done,” Daven growled, stepping in close and pinning Ryneth between his body and the tiles as he caught him by the hair and tipped his head back. “Open up. Finish what I started.”

“No.” White panic flared.

Ryneth parted his lips anyway. Daven didn’t wait. He grabbed the back of Ryneth’s head and pushed forward until Ryneth gagged, tears springing to his eyes as the pressure took his breath.

Panic surged in his chest. He’d never done this. He didn’t know what to do with his tongue or how to breathe around it, and by the time his shaking hands caught at Daven’s thighs, it was only to stop himself from choking. The taste in his mouth was thick and unmistakable, and the humiliation of it made his head spin.

“That’s it,” Daven hissed, his grip tightening in Ryneth’s hair.

Ryneth’s teeth grazed him by accident, and Daven only laughed, his grip tightening in Ryneth’s hair instead of pulling away.

“Take all of it. Use that mouth, aethera. Suck me like you’re starving for it. Show me how good you can be.”

Ryneth tried to copy the rhythm, his mouth working around him with clumsy focus while shame burned under his skin. He should have hated this. He should have hated how easily his body answered, how every touch made something inside him lean closer instead of pulling away. His mind still fought it. The rest of him didn’t.

“Fuck yeah.” Daven’s hand tightened at the back of Ryneth’s head, pushing him deeper until the blunt pressure hit the back of his throat and made him gag. “You’re a natural at being mine.”

Daven pushed deeper, his hand locked tight in Ryneth’s hair, and the pressure in his throat turned sharp so fast it made his eyes sting before his mouth filled and instinct screamed at him to pull away. He couldn’t. Daven held him there.

“Drink it, aethera,” Daven murmured. “Swallow it all.”

Ryneth swallowed because fighting him felt impossible now, and because some ugly part of him wanted the praise too much. Daven kept him there a moment longer before finally easing back, leaving Ryneth breathing hard on his knees.

“What a way to wake up,” Daven murmured. He licked a stray drop from his thumb and stepped out of the shower.

Ryneth didn’t move. His mouth still tasted of Daven, and his pride felt scraped raw. “Good Light,” he rasped under his breath. His throat hurt, and the worst part was that he didn’t entirely hate it.

“Let’s get dressed.” Daven bent and gave Ryneth a last peck on the lips. “Then we go to Moargan’s.”

Ryneth looked up at him.

Steam curled between them as Daven reached down, wrapped his fingers around Ryneth’s forearm, and hauled him to his feet in one smooth pull.

Then he leaned in, his mouth brushing the shell of Ryneth’s ear. “You swallowed every drop like a perfect little addict,” he whispered.

Ryneth stood there for a second after Daven let him go, skin still hot where he’d been touched, listening to the sound of him leaving the bathroom.

None of it felt real. Concordant had wanted him there. Lysa had walked away wearing a bomb like she’d already accepted she was dead. The Luminary had stepped in like he mattered. And Daven…

Daven had gotten under his skin so fast it made him feel sick.

Ryneth still should’ve been looking for a way out. He still should’ve wanted to run.

Instead, he stood there in the steam, aching for the same man who kept pulling him closer, and didn’t know what the fuck that said about him anymore.

17

DAVEN

Where Daven loved living high up in the heart of Zephyr, not far from Umbral park, which sat close to the Academy, Moargan lived more on the outskirts. Still, Daven couldn’t ignore that his cousin’s mansion was impressive.

And crowded.

Guards lounged outside the front door, drinking coffee and chatting. When they saw Daven appear with Ryneth by his side, they straightened and murmured a greeting.

Daven ignored them, too caught up in the moment.