Page 43 of Blinding Light

Why? Moargan had a reputation for enjoying his conquests. To chase his prey down in Aureates, to bring them back to his lair and play with their fate. Theo was a living example of that. That poor guy. Cyprian still wasn’t sure about the punishment he’d witnessed. The branding, the torture. It should be enough for him to run and hide. But where? And what would happen to Theo now?

Those were valid questions too. But not the ones he wanted answers to.

No, right now he wanted to have his chip back. He needed those addresses. One of them would give him the result he so desired. Ithadto be.

Multiple planets appeared to have people with yellow eyes. And multiple planets had reports of adopted children who had been shipped off-planet. But while other planets also performed adoptions, there was a small detail that had brought his attention to Helion's deep space in the first place. Before, he’d felt this strong physical pull to come here. A detail so small hewouldn’t have noticed had it not been pointed out by his online contact.

The motivation for adoption.

On other planets, most babies were shipped away because offamily circumstances. A few were labeled underclaimed by father, which was dubious. Others were bought.Financial transaction.

But all babies that left Helion, were labeled underresearch purposes.

He’d worked for months to be able to buy that full list of dates on which these babies had left Helion. There hadn’t been any names, so there was no certainty that he was onto something other than his gut feeling and a need to discover the full truth.

And now the chip had been taken from him and he would never know.

Worse,theymight use it against him.

The sound of rain pattering down on the window brought him out of his reverie. He’d have to find a way to get his hands back on his property.

Cyprian got out of bed and quickly got ready for the day. It didn’t take him long to collect his bag and school utensils, but as he walked down the corridor, his pace faltered.

The smell of cooked bacon and scrambled eggs, of simmering coffee and casual chats, brought him toward the kitchen, where he hesitated, wishing for his usual reservations to push him toward the front door. His curiosity won.

He took a hesitant step inside the kitchen, his school bag clutched against his shoulder.

Aviel stood behind the stove, laughing at something Yure said. Next to Yure, on another stool, sat Moargan. Dressed in his satin, low-rise sleeping pants, he sipped from a mug of coffee and smoked a red cinder cigarette. His blond hair was swept to one side, revealing his decorated ears.

“Good morning,Cyprian.” Aviel waved at him, a smirk on hisface. He’d caught Cyprian staring at Moargan. “I trust you slept well?”

Cyprian flushed and pulled the straps tight. “I did.”

“Sit down, I’ll cook you some breakfast.”

“No, don’t bother.” Cyprian fisted his hands until the straps stung in his flesh. “I am meeting Archer for breakfast.”

“Are you now?” Moargan drawled. “Vandor!”

The junior general kicked himself off the wall and headed for the door.

Cyprian watched the scene unfold. “I don’t need anyone to bring me to school. I’m perfectly capable of going by myself.”

Yure snickered over his coffee, and Aviel let out a low whistle.

Moargan’s smile was wicked. “I’m sure you can. Now, Vandor will take you to campus. He’s got classes as well. Don’t want to reject a friendly ride, would you?”

Cyprian’s gaze turned to the junior general, who stood tall, dark, and stoic. “Uhm, no.”

“I’m glad that’s cleared up.” Moargan slid down his stool and came his way. “Have a great day, littleaeon. Don’t forget to watch the television.” He flashed another smile, then brushed his lips over the sensitive spot on Cyprian’s throat. Then he swaggered off and all Cyprian could do was watch him glide through the corridors and back to their bedroom.

Turning back, he caught the junior general’s gaze and cleared his throat. “Shall we go?”

The ride was swift,the driver polite. Even the security control didn’t cause any problems, and before he knew it, he stood in front of the many campus restaurants.

“Cyprian.” Vandor stood behind him. His voice was low, with a faint rasp. He probably didn’t use it much. “I have two guards protecting you when I’m in class.”

“I don’t need any guards,” Cyprian snipped, then turned toface the junior general. “I have lived a life in the shadows and did just fine.”

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