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Stifling an annoyed huff, Saren twisted in his seat at the desk and explained, “The abilities Telex possess are called masteries. Did no one teach you that?”
He shook his head.
“Were you taught anything?”
Ryx snapped his head up, a glare piercing through his messy black hair. “Not to die,” he hissed. “Not taken. Not eaten.”
“Eaten?” Saren questioned. “Who would eat you?”
The boy clenched his jaw and didn’t answer.
“Look, we are friends, right?” Ryx stared at Saren for long seconds before giving a tiny nod. “Friends share secrets. You can tell me anything, and I’ll keep it right here.” He patted right above his heart.
“You are mindeater,” Ryx seethed, shaking now as his fingers contorted and spasmed. “Eat.”
Saren scrunched up his nose. “Ew.”
“It true! You…you…” The boy struggled to articulate what he wanted to say again. Saren’s eyes softened. After growling under his breath, Ryx tapped his head with his thumb and said, “Eat inside.”
“We do not eat your mind.” Saren couldn’t believe people spread lies like that. It simply wasn’t true. Telex fed from things most people wouldn’t even know were gone. That was hardly the same thing. A misunderstanding, certainly. “All power comes with a cost, Ryx. Telex have to replenish the energy spent to use their masteries. For example, when I use mine, I have to…” He stopped. He didn’t know how to explain it without using a word that implied eating. “We have to supplement,” he settled on after too long.
Ryx’s eyes narrowed.
“It’s not the same thing,” Saren insisted and returned to his notes.
They lapsed into silence for a while. A slimy feeling had worked under Saren’s skin.
Patryn told him that the rebellion out in the Barrens spent every waking moment trying to undermine and discredit Telex rule. That they’d rather suffer and die than accept the sanctuary being created for everyone. Telex had taken the bits and pieces of the world and reshaped it. Made it inhabitable again. Some parts were still contaminated with the fallout—the air so toxic it melted flesh from the bone and bore holes into your soul. The pestilence was born from such places. Without Telex, everyone would’ve died.
But the way Ryx seemed so certain he was a monster clung to him like tar.
He didn’t know how to wash it away.
It hurt to be viewed so negatively when all he wanted was for the boy to like him. Was it truly that hard?
“S-saren.”
“What?” he snipped, then bit his cheek.
“Why you…smell…wrong?”
Huh? He thought and faced the boy again.
Ryx grunted and balled his fists. “P-pher— smells. Smell like…” He blinked rapidly, lips thinning. “Me alpha.” He slapped his chest. “You?”
“Oh,” Saren whispered. “I’m…” He hesitated. Only the council knew he was an omega. The rest of the community assumed he was an alpha with a defective scent. It was easier than the truth. But as he grew, it would become obvious he wasn’t an alpha, especially whenever he had his first heat. A terrible blush crept up and over his cheeks. Shoving those thoughts far from his mind, he cleared his throat.
Could he trust Ryx? He certainly wanted to. And, if what he’d said earlier was true, if he didn’t come clean, he’d be a hypocrite. Saren was no hypocrite. “I’m an omega,” he said carefully, studying Ryx’s reaction.
The boy frowned. “No smell?”
Sighing softly, Saren nodded. “I do not have a scent.”
Ryx looked like he wanted to say many things, but all that came out was: “Why?”
The air siphoned from his lungs. His mouth went dry as cold sweat beaded on his forehead. Those white lights flashed. Matthias’s violet eyes lit up like corrupt stars. The sounds. The pain. “I just don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “I have to study, Ryx. We can talk after supper.”
***
