The Naga (The Sanctuary: Forest #1)

One

Khush

After years of thinking it would never happen, I was finally in the human world. It'd taken a dwarf's ingenuity, a sorcerer's permission (and a little magical assistance), and the help of a half-troll and a human, but I'd made it. They'd created a device—a wheelchair, of all things—that could hide my naga lower body, so I could visit human spaces without revealing the big secret.

Silas (my half-troll best friend) and Bellamy (one of the two humans I lived with at the Sanctuary) had come with me since it was my first time and I didn't really know my way around the city, and I was grateful. I'd never been around so many people before, and it was as exciting as it was terrifying.

The coffee shop we were currently in was cute, with dark wood and bright, cheerful decor, soft music playing in the background as humans rushed about.

Silas and Bellamy couldn't settle on what to order, so now they were both standing near the counter, arguing as they stared up at the menu. Silas had a mask covering the lower half of his face, something he wore even at home to hide his small tusks that stayed no matter which form he was in. His dark hair fell into his eyes, and he pushed it back as he gestured with his hands. Bellamy was the complete opposite. He was still, with barely a muscle moving as he refuted whatever suggestion Silas had made. The diagonal scar bisecting the right side of his cheek gave him a dangerous look, and people seemed to give him a wide berth, which was funny since he was the only human between the three of us.

I wasn't quite sure what the fuss was about. I mean, coffee was coffee, right? The looks I'd gotten from both of them said otherwise.

"There's a sitting area outside, you know. You could've sat there instead of blocking the way in here."

It took me a moment to realize the man was talking to me, and I glanced up at him, puzzled. Had he really just said that? Was this how humans who were actually disabled treated in public places?

When we picked this table, Silas had made sure my wheelchair wasn't in the way, and I could see that there was more than enough space for the man to walk through.

Before I could say something—not that I'd figured out what I was going to say—someone stepped up beside me, a tiny little human dressed in shorts and a flowy, deep red top, their wavy brown hair falling into their eyes.

"Well, he clearly left more than enough space for us mere humans. How was he supposed to guess a bull was going to be charging through?" the tiny human said, and the man's nostrils flared as his cheeks went red.

Huh. He did actually look a lot like a bull.

The barista called out a name, and the bull-man huffed loudly before turning around and walking toward the counter.

I glanced up at the tiny human, and they shot me a wicked grin. "I know that was a low blow, but I'm a firm believer in an eye for an eye. I don't think it will make the whole world blind, but I sure think losing an eye just might make the second person realize the pain the first person went through."

A surprised laugh slipped past my lips, and their grin widened. They stuck a hand out, their nails painted a bright orange, blue eyes twinkling as they watched me. "My name's Dustin. Pronouns he/him. Gemini."

I blinked, then gingerly took his hand. The moment our skin touched, I almost jerked my hand back out of shock while my instincts urged me to never let go.

That was… how was that possible?

My first time leaving the Sanctuary to go out into the human world, and I stumbled across him ? Fate couldn't be that gracious, could she?

Exhaling softly, I shook his hand, returning his smile. "I'm Khush. He/him as well. And I…don't know what my star sign is."

Dustin blinked, as if he couldn't possibly imagine someone not knowing their star sign, and then shook his head. "It was nice to meet you, Khush."

I nodded at him, then watched him walk to the counter, my eyes sliding to his nicely swishing hips before I jerked my gaze away.

When I looked back at the counter again, I spotted him talking to Silas. They were smiling, and if Silas wasn't already happily mated, I'd have thought they were flirting.

I made myself look away, focusing instead on tracing the pattern on the table. I only looked up when I heard Silas and Bellamy's footsteps near the table, and my eyes narrowed at the smug look on Silas's face.

"Here. The pretty boy asked me to give you this," Silas said, sliding one of the coffee cups toward me. It was one of those foam cups Silas—and his human mate Touya—always brought back whenever they went out to run errands.

I picked the cup up and took a sip, surprised at how different the coffee tasted from the one we had at home.

"Turn it around," Bellamy insisted, and I shot him and Silas a suspicious look before doing as he'd asked.

On the other side of the cup, written in pink, glittery ink, was a phone number. Below it were the letters H M U, followed by a smiley face.

"Is that some kind of code?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at the cup. Was Dustin in danger and trying to send a message?

Bellamy made a weird, choking sound as coffee somehow snorted out of his nose, and Silas broke into loud laughter. Have you ever heard a half-troll laugh? It was loud , even with the mask covering his mouth.

Suddenly, every pair of eyes in the coffee shop was on us, and I glared at the two assholes until they shut up.

"What the fuck was that?" I was surprised at their reaction, since as supernatural beings, we were always required to keep a low profile in human spaces, clearly too hard for my dick of a best friend.

"You are," Silas gasped out, "just too precious . My sweet boomer."

I felt like he was insulting me, but I wasn't sure.

"Are you gonna tell me what it means or not?"

"It's an abbreviation. People use it when texting. It means hit me up. He wants you to text or call him," Bellamy explained as he dabbed at his face with a napkin, giving up on saving his shirt entirely. The shirt was a pale brown color—apparently, Bellamy translated keeping a low profile to just disappearing into the background—and I thought the coffee actually might make it look better once it dried.

I hadn't realized I'd made any kind of impression on Dustin. I'd been too stunned to do anything, but now I realized that I'd almost missed my chance with him. What if he hadn't left his number? I had no way of tracking him down, and it might've been the one and only shot I got.

Thank God Dustin had more sense than me.

I had a feeling I was going to be thinking that again soon.

"Oh, okay," I said, then pulled my phone out, ignoring Silas's face—I just knew he was sporting a stupid-ass look—and saving the number.

"Cut it out!" I scowled when I glanced up at Silas's smirking face. God, he could be such a pain in the ass sometimes. He was lucky I loved him.

Dustin

"I'm home, Scrappy!" I called as I stepped into my apartment, and my ginger tabby hellcat raced out of whatever corner of the apartment she'd been hiding in. She was a stray I'd found close to a year ago, and I'd adopted her—and named her Scrappy—because she'd taken on a dog and won. She'd gotten hurt, though, and I took her to the vet because I'm not a monster, and then she suckered me in with those big black-and-yellow eyes of hers, and now I was her servant.

Scrappy rubbed her head against my leg, and I leaned down to pick her up, carrying her in my arms as I headed to my workstation.

"Scrappy, you wouldn't believe how hot the guy I met today was. He had dark hair and soulful brown eyes and muscle for days. Days , Scrappy! And that stubble, mmm. He had this whole grumpy vibe going, and I totally thought he was straight and I'd get my ass kicked—or, well, smacked, since he was in a wheelchair and all—but then I kinda made him laugh and damn, girl. You should've seen his face. It went from Krampus to Prince Charming in a second." I settled on my chair, placing her in my lap.

Of course, she got up instantly, and jumped onto my desk before taking a nice little walk across my keyboard. Luckily, I hadn't turned on my computer yet. The last time she took a walk like that, I ended up sending a bunch of gibberish to a customer and almost got fired. Such was the life of a cat dad.

Checking my watch, I realized I had some time before I needed to be 'at work,' so I made my way to my bedroom. The best thing about working from home? I could work in my PJs, and no one would get mad.

I pulled my favorite pair out of the closet before removing my top and shorts. The last to go was my chest binder, and I quickly slid on the PJs, admiring myself in the mirror for a moment. It was a onesie type of thing, with a zip at the front. The whole outfit was made of a fluffy, baby-pink material, and the hoodie had a rainbow-colored horn sticking out of the top. It was cheesy and comfy, and I adored it.

Throwing the outside clothes in the laundry, I made a pit stop in the kitchen for Scrappy's pre-pre-lunch snack, then booted up my computer and signed into work. I worked in customer support for a big online store, and while I used to take calls before, I was switched over to chat support after an…incident. There might have been a bigoted old man and a few sparkly swear words involved, but that was all I was going to say on the matter.

Stretching my arms above my head, I exhaled loudly, then whispered my mantra: Today is never too late to be brand new , by my Queen Taylor. Then, I got typing.

Every day, I thought I couldn't come across a dumber human, and every day I was proven wrong. Sometimes, customers had honest questions and real problems, but more often than not, there were people like this one:

Customer : The shirt I ordered doesn't fit.

Me : What size did you order, sir?

Customer : 38

Me : What size do you usually wear, sir?

Customer : 42

Me : May I ask why you ordered the smaller size?

(It took every cell in my body to force out that level of politeness.)

Customer : I thought it would fit. The material looked like it was stretchy.

I screeched so loud that I scared Scrappy.

It took me another five minutes to deal with the customer, and I ended up promising them a full refund when they refused a replacement in a larger size. I didn't understand people, honestly.

Since I worked from home, I used my lunch breaks to eat quickly, and then take a power nap/cuddle session with Scrappy.

Usually, I dreamed of things like getting stuck in a zombie apocalypse, or world domination. You know, fun stuff.

But this time, I dreamed of a certain grumpy guy whose name actually meant happy (yes, I Googled) and all the fun things he did to me.

My luck in love was pretty much nonexistent, and there were a bunch of reasons why.

First of all, very few men were into femme trans men. I was not-enough-dude for some men, too femme for others, and then there were the straight transphobes who were convinced one night with them would 'remind me' why I should go back to acting like the woman I supposedly was.

Then there's the fact that I had a habit of latching on too fast. " date and I was dreaming of our wedding day" kind of fast. Most people couldn't deal with that, and I didn't blame them. My friends said it was because I was unreasonably afraid they were going to leave once they got to know me better, but I was still single, so just how unreasonable was my fear?

I gave Khush my number after barely talking to him for more than two minutes. Now that I thought about it, the only time I even let him speak was when he told me his name. I bet he'd never call or text. He probably threw the cup in the trash the moment he finished his coffee.

Successfully bringing down my good mood after that sweet dream, I got back to work, and if I got a little snippy with a few customers, I hoped it went unnoticed.

It was nearing six o'clock, the end of my work day, when a ping on my phone drew my attention. My phone was synced up with my computer, so I pulled up my messages, and Scrappy jumped off my lap with a hiss when I squealed loudly.

Unknown : Hey, Dustin. It's Khush. From the coffee shop? You left your number on my cup.