Page 75 of Blinding Light

“I said, am I clear?” Moargan growled.

“Y-yes, Imperial Zephyranth,” the man whimpered.

“Good.” Moargan let him go, and Ludo slid down to his knees, clutching his own throat as he coughed and spluttered, face red. “Come with me,aeon.”

Moargan’s arm was firm as he pulled it around Cyprian’s shoulder and walked them both toward the exit.

“What the hell did you do to those babies anyway?” Ludo taunted.

“Ignore him,” Moargan’s words were muffled against Cyprian’s temple. “He’s just trying to rile you up.”

Ludo smiled devilishly behind them. “Look at this freak with his yellow eyes. Look at the way—” The rest of his words were caught off by another storm of coughs. “You arenotmy son!”

Cyprian knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. He turned around into Moargan’s hold, fast enough to see how Vandor landed an array of punches on the man who was now crawling on the floor in an attempt to escape the attack. Hisfather. Though his face was twisted into a grimace, Ludo still cackled a sharp, broken noise that clawed at Cyprian’s insides. It tore the wound open and shredded him apart.

“I hate you!” Cyprian cried out. He felt his insides crumble. “I hoped you’d be a good man, a man who wanted me. But you’re an animal, a filthy pig.” His eyes leaked with tears.

“He’s out of it, lover. It’s the drugs. Come on, let’s go home.” Moargan pushed him through the door.

But behind him, Ludo shouted. “You are not my son! You’re a monster! Amonster!”

Those words played on repeat like a broken record.

Not my son. A monster.

Cyprian felt…thrown away.Hadbeen thrown away. In exchange for money. This man, his father, had not wanted him. Still didn’t want him.

His mother, a mystery.

Was Celia Fandi his mother? Or was it some random stranger who had left in the obscurity of those slums in the north of Zephyr, never to be found again?

Did he want her to be found?

“Cyprian…lover.” Moargan stood in the doorway of the guest room. He didn’t enter, as if waiting for Cyprian’s admission. “Do you want to talk about?—”

“No.” His voice was a cracked whisper. He looked at his palms. “Not yet. I—” Moargan was connected to him now, it was overwhelming. He had to open up to him sooner or later. But the pain was too raw. The disappointment was too much for his brain to formulate words. He turned over his shoulder and forced a smile. Moargan looked formidable in black and gold, strong and fierce. So handsome. Cyprian swallowed a sob. And this man was his? He turned back and eyed his canvas. “I’m not a great talker.” He bit his lower lip. Even admitting that was hard. “I’ve never learned to do so.”

There was a moment of silence, before Moargan answered, “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

That was…Cyprian’s heart ruffled in his chest. His stomach tightened but in a good way. It made him feel warm in a moment of despair. Thrown away by one, taken in by the other. And how he wanted to belong here, to Moargan.

“I have somewhere I need to be. Are you going to be okay by yourself for a few hours?”

Cyprian nodded.

“If you need anything, Aviel’s in the kitchen. Or you ask any Luminary. The house always has at least five guards around. They all serve you.”

Cyprian took in a wet breath. “Thank you.”

Footsteps, followed by a strong arm around his throat, full lips that found his for a punishing kiss. “He will pay for this,” Moargan mumbled against Cyprian’s mouth. It took him a lot to not bury himself in Moargan’s embrace and fall apart. To let go of those tears that clung to his insides, begging to come out.

“My biggest nightmare came true,” he whispered.

“I know.” Moargan’s arms tightened around his frame and Cyprian shuddered, overwhelmed by warmth and strength. “But your journey has only just begun, lover.” He pulled back, and their eyes met with an unspoken promise. Moargan smiled and swept away a lonely tear from his cheek. He hadn’t realized it had dropped. His face felt hot, his mind was tired. “Get some rest,aeon. I’ll be back before you know it. Unless you don’t want me to go?”

Cyprian shook his head. “No. Go. I need to—” He gestured to his canvas. “I need time to process everything that happened.”

“Alright.” Moargan left him a final peck. “And if you need anything, go to Aviel.” And then he was gone, and it was just Cyprian.

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