The Reborn Sovereign of Ruin, Bound by His Star

Arik did not move.

The comm rang a third time.

Liam’s smile grew despite the fact that Arik still had one hand at his waist and the other tangled loosely near his hair and that the entire chamber smelled like warm temple stone, caramel, saint’s breath, and bad decisions delayed by technology.

"That," Liam repeated, "sounds important."

Arik opened his eyes.

The look he gave Liam should have been illegal in several diplomatic jurisdictions.

"It is Noah," he said.

Liam blinked. "You know that from the sound?"

"No. I know that because fate has a tedious sense of humor."

The comm rang again.

Arik exhaled slowly through his nose and lifted one hand from Liam’s waist, though the movement seemed to offend him on a spiritual level. He did not step away. He stayed between Liam’s knees, close enough that Liam could still feel the heat of him through the thin space left between their bodies.

That was, apparently, how far the Crown Prince of Agaron was willing to compromise with interruption.

He touched the comm at his wrist.

"Noah," Arik said.

His voice was calm.

Liam, still sitting on the rail with his fingers buried in Arik’s hair and the faint ache of Arik’s mouth beneath his jaw, watched in fascination as an imperial prince attempted to sound composed while visibly considering murder.

There was a brief crackle.

Then Noah’s voice came through, strained enough to cut through even the lingering heat in the chamber.

"Answering after the fourth ring while inside an illegal underground ether facility is generally considered poor leadership."

Arik’s eyes darkened.

"Careful."

"Oh, good," Noah said. "You’re alive and threatening me. That’s why you are my favorite cousin."

Liam lowered his forehead briefly toward Arik’s shoulder to hide the laugh that tried to escape him.

Arik’s hand tightened in Liam’s hair immediately, drawing him closer until Liam’s face was buried against the side of his neck.

The movement was possessive enough to be insulting.

It was also warm.

Liam’s breath caught against Arik’s skin before he could stop it. Warm temple stone and caramel surrounded him at once, thick and grounding, cutting through the cold metal tang of the chamber and the clean bite of the Vanguard’s ether.

Arik’s voice remained perfectly calm when he answered Noah.

"That is a very poor survival strategy."

"Loving family rarely is," Noah replied. Then his tone shifted, the humor thinning. "It’s about Amara."

Arik went still.

Liam felt the change before he saw it. The hand in his hair didn’t let go, but the pressure lessened. As if the name had pulled an old door open somewhere inside Arik, and he was deciding how much of it to let Liam see.

Liam lifted his head slightly.

Arik allowed it, though his fingers remained at the nape of Liam’s neck.

"Amara?" Liam asked quietly.

Arik’s gaze flicked to him.

Then, to the Gate.

Then back.

Noah continued over the line. "Kamal told me enough to be concerned. Felix’s poison, accelerated aging and corrupted ether channels. I asked whether stable white-grade ether might help."

Liam’s attention sharpened instantly.

Arik’s grip tightened by a fraction because, of course, he noticed that too. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"Noah," Arik said, warning low in his voice.

"I know," Noah answered. "But before you decide to execute my curiosity, listen. I’m not asking Liam to treat her. He’s an engineer, not a physician. But if a physician tells him what Amara’s channels can tolerate, could the Vanguard provide a controlled exposure field?"

Silence.

The Vanguard hummed below them.

Liam pulled back enough to look at Arik fully.

Arik looked displeased, not with Noah, exactly, but with the nature of the problem.

"With the right medical data," Liam said slowly, before Arik could answer for him, "maybe."

Arik’s eyes narrowed.

Liam lifted one hand immediately.

"I said maybe. I don’t have a medical degree. I can’t diagnose poisoning, and I’m not deciding treatment for a woman I’ve never seen. But if a physician gives me pressure limits, exposure duration, intake tolerance, and contamination thresholds, I can design a system to deliver stable white ether safely."

Noah exhaled audibly through the comm.

"That sounds better than Kamal’s expression."

"Kamal has expressions?" Liam asked.

"Barely. That’s how I know it’s serious."

Arik did not look amused.

"Amara is not to be moved until I return," he said.

"She’s isolated in the side wing," Noah replied. "Sella is arranging staff. Kamal is making a list of old names, but he thinks for now one person for Amara is enough."

Liam heard it then.

The quiet concern beneath Noah’s voice.

He looked at Arik again.

"Who is she?"

Arik did not answer immediately.

The Gate pulsed behind him, gold veins breathing through dark steel.

Finally, he said, "A distant blood relative."

Liam’s eyes narrowed.

"That was carefully phrased."

"Yes."

"Arik."

His name landed between them differently now, still roughened by the kiss, still intimate enough that Arik’s jaw tightened before he answered.

"She was poisoned by Felix’s pheromones," Arik said. "The corruption damaged her ether channels. She is aging faster than she should."

Liam’s face changed before he could hide it.

Felix again.

Always Felix, somewhere behind the locked doors, the missing blueprints, the old poison, and the people damaged and hidden long enough for history to pretend nothing had happened.

"She should look like a woman in her thirties," Arik continued, quieter. "She doesn’t."

Liam’s fingers curled once against Arik’s shirt.

Then he looked toward the Vanguard.

White ether rose in clean streams through the relay spine, powerful enough to ease the strain of Wrohan’s owl brooches, powerful enough to make the Gate wake, and powerful enough that everyone around it seemed to forget clean did not mean gentle.

"A direct intake field would be dangerous," Liam said.

Arik’s expression hardened immediately.

"No."

"I’m agreeing with you."

"You sounded interested."

"I am interested. That is not the same as reckless."

Noah made a faint sound.

Liam looked toward the comm even though Noah could not see him.

"Do not comment."

"I was breathing."

"Suspiciously."

Arik’s mouth shifted faintly despite himself.

Liam turned toward the nearest projection panel without fully stepping away. Arik let him move, but the hand at his neck slid down to the small of his back as if distance had to be negotiated inch by inch.

Liam noticed.

He also did not object.

"That yellow zone is for trained arcanists," Liam said, pulling up the Vanguard’s secondary output map. "Mezos and the Shadows can absorb from it because their channels are strong, regulated, and only strained by suppression. Corrupted channels are different. If Amara’s internal pathways are fragile, white ether could stabilize them or tear through the damaged lining."

The line went quiet.

Then Noah said, "That is not comforting."

"It wasn’t meant to be."

Arik stood close behind Liam now, heat at his back, warm temple stone and caramel folding over the sterile bite of the control interface.

"What would you need?" Arik asked.

Liam’s fingers moved across the projection.

"Her physician. Not just medical records. A physician who knows her current condition and can tell me what her body can tolerate. I can build a filtered exposure field, not a treatment. Lower pressure, diluted concentration, timed intervals, external cutoff, isolation glass, and physician monitoring."

"No direct contact?" Arik asked.

"No direct intake," Liam corrected. "At least not until a physician says her channels can regulate. If this works, it would be environmental saturation. The Vanguard provides the clean field. Her body takes in what it can."

Arik was silent for a moment.

Then, into the comm, "Noah, tell Kamal to gather every record he has and locate the physician."

"Already doing that," Noah said. "Kamal is terrifyingly efficient when emotionally inconvenienced."

"He always was," Arik murmured.

Liam looked back at him sharply.

Arik’s expression closed a fraction too late.

Interesting. Very interesting.

Noah, apparently deciding self-preservation was optional, continued. "Also, Kamal wants to know whether old staff should be contacted. He started a list."

Arik’s gaze lowered.

"No."