Chapter 19
nineteen
DANTE
As Cielo sits down on the couch, my mind is reeling. Half of it is being bombarded by feelings from him over the betrayal of my lies. The other half is still reeling from what happened last night.
It’s a miracle I was in any way functional this morning, and I felt like an ass for just going off to work after what we did, like nothing happened. But I was still coping.
Processing.
Trying to figure out what the hell happened and why.
And how. The idea that it was a reaction to the zitha was terrifying because so far it is the only thing that has been able to stop the pain in its tracks.
But after Cielo told me that it was something else—that I’d ingested the wrong thing—I felt better.
Then I panicked.
Luckily, Everest was available and immediately rushed over to the shop after he heard the tremble in my voice. He found me in my office just before we opened and immediately dropped into the chair beside my desk.
“I took those herbs last night and—”
“I fucked up,” he interrupted breathlessly.
I stared at him.
“The herbs…I left the wrong bags in your satchel.” He sounded very, very sorry. “How bad was it?”
I swallowed heavily. “It was…rough. And kind of terrifying. You take those?” I couldn’t help but ask. “On purpose?”
He burst into laughter. “Yeah. I mean…I take the ruenox all the time. It helps me make enough cum for what Rathyn needs. The other one is…more for fun. How much did you take?”
“A lot,” I confessed. “I was in pain, and I thought they were all zitha, so I grabbed a handful. I was kind of fucked up for hours.”
His eyes widened, and he bobbed his head. “Okay, right, well, I took oyen by accident with Rathyn, too. It was…a lot. Kind of scary but also…”
My face warmed. “Unbelievably hot. Unbelievably good?”
He laughed. “Something like that, yeah. We use it from time to time. I ah…I wanted to run by your place to swap it out, but I can leave you some, if you want to try it again?”
It took me a moment to decide, considering Cielo and I hadn’t talked about it. About how it made him feel. About the rules he’d broken for me.
But there was only one answer I could give, and that answer was now nipping at my conscience as I stare at Cielo across the small divide as we lounge on the couch.
He’s waiting patiently for me to say anything. To do anything. I can feel his trepidation, almost like he’s afraid of me.
I hate it.
“What are you thinking right now?” I ask.
He opens his mouth, closes it, lifts his hands, then drops them back into his lap. I push into his head as best I can—I’m still new at this, and I don’t want to invade his privacy too much. I didn’t get the chance to ask Everest what this is all about or how any of it works.
Or if it’s the same for him.
But Cielo doesn’t fight me. He opens up, and I can feel fear inside him, and there’s still a bit of lingering anger.
And then there’s shame.
“I do not wish to be upset with you,” he tells me in my head. His words are perfectly clear, but they’re not really English. They’re not really anything I can describe, but it makes communication with him so easy.
“Are you afraid of being upset with me?”
His ears droop, and he bows his head, and the ache in my stomach gets worse. I did this. I fucked up. Everest was right about keeping this from him. I should have told him before. He shouldn’t have found out this way.
“I do not wish to cause you pain, my Dante.”
I shiver at the way he refers to me as his. I fucking love it. I love how possessive he is. And how much he wants me, even if he’s afraid to take everything I can give him.
‘You were crying,’ he adds in sign.
I feel my cheeks. They’re dry, but he’s not wrong. It’s just anger and shame. And with the fatigue from last night, my defenses are low.
“I’m just so sorry. I never want to ruin the trust you have in me. You’re important to me, Cielo. Baby,” I add, and I can’t help it. I shift closer, and his tail immediately curls around my waist. The pressure of it is soothing.
Comforting.
Fuck. It’s everything.
“Trussst,” he says.
“Yes.” I reach up and touch the side of his jaw, then brush my fingertips over his mouth. His lips part for me, and I feel a rush of his warm breath. “Trust. I need you to know I will never hurt you. Not again,” I add.
He bows his head, and his ears flick before he nods, then looks at me again. ‘Did I hurt you last night?’ he asks in sign.
I quickly shake my head. “I’m a little sore, but in a good way.
It was…I liked it. But I also know that it might have pushed you too far.
The herbs I took were meant for Everest. He left the wrong bag for me.
It was supposed to be zitha. I know you didn’t want to take cum directly from me, and I feel like I forced you—”
“No,” he says aloud. His hand moves to my throat and holds me there. The pressure isn’t hard, but it’s enough to remind me that he’s powerful. “No forrrrce. No. I want. Not yourrr faullllt.” His thumb strokes over my pulse. “I wannnnted.”
I lay my hand over his wrist and squeeze. “Would you want to do it again? All of it again?”
He stares at me for a long time, then dips his head low, and his forehead touches mine. I’m suddenly bombarded with images, feelings, words, and song. It’s too much of a jumble to make sense of for a moment.
And then everything begins to clear, and I hear his voice. It’s Eretharian, I think, but I know what he’s saying.
“I want you, but I’m afraid to hurt you. I’m afraid seeing you in a heat will send me into a rut. I do not wish to be too strong for you.”
“You won’t be,” I send back. “I just need to know what you want. What you truly want.”
“You. To keep you as mine. To fuck you. To breed you—”
I laugh. I can’t help it, though I’m not mocking him.
The truth is, I get it. The feelings that herb created in me were…
strange. Intense. Somewhere in the back of my head, while he was filling my ass with his cock, I felt the inexplicable urge to beg him to fill me with his seed.
To show me off to the world, fat and heavy with an egg.
“I know we can’t, but I wanted it, too,” I tell him softly.
He hums, which turns into a purr, and before I’m really aware of it, he has me on his lap, legs spread over his. I can’t help but rock down over him. I’m hard again.
Maybe it’s the last bits of the herbs leaving my system.
Or maybe it’s just that I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone before.
But it’s not a feeling I chase. Not yet, anyway. I close my eyes as his hands ghost up my spine, claws dragging over my skin gently until they reach the side of my neck.
I tip my head sideways and lay my temple on his shoulder as he draws nonsense shapes over the beat of my pulse.
“Wannnnt. To biiiiite,” he whispers.
“Bite? Me?”
“Yes.” He presses one single claw to my skin. “Here.”
“Is that…does that mean something?” I ask him.
“Claimmmm. Mine,” he says.
I lift my head, and my gaze meets his. I hold it for a long time before I say, “Yes. I want that. Next time we…” I stop and take a breath. “Next time.”
He nods, just once, and I drop back down against him so I can feel his beating hearts against my chest. His tail slides down until it’s curled around my ankle, and I realize in this moment I’ve never felt so safe.
“Dante,” he murmurs. I say nothing. I’m not sure if he’s saying my name just because, or if he has more to tell me. After a moment, I feel another pulse in my head—a deep, intense ache of missing someone.
Something.
Tears well in my eyes, and my throat goes thick. “Cielo,” I gasp. There’s more to it than just being homesick. This pain is deep and intense.
I lift up again. “You’re hurting. I can feel it. You have so much grief.”
‘Miss home,’ he signs with one hand. ‘A lot. Family. Village. Want to show you. Take you there.’
I want that too, more than anything, but I don’t see how it’s possible. I hate that I can’t help take that pain away. I drop my forehead against his one more time.
“Show me. Like this.”
He lets out a little surprised trill, like he hadn’t thought of it, and then his massive hands curl around my waist. His fingertips meet over the small of my back as he holds me, and then he takes a breath.
I follow because I know what’s coming is going to be a lot.
And just like before, songs, images, and feelings overwhelm me. They pour out, heavy and intense, from his mind into mine. It takes me a moment to understand what I’m seeing behind my closed eyelids.
A pink, purple, and orange sky with four huge moons. A capital with pristine streets and pearly white buildings made from stone that seems to glow from the inside out.
The land beyond is sprawling, green hills, herbs, flowers, and bizarre animals I can’t make sense of. Some are on the ground, and some are flying.
Off in the distance, I swear I see an island in the sky with winged, humanoid creatures flying around it.
And then there are mountains covered in vast, rich trees with pink trunks and a canopy of gorgeous leaves. The sky changes to dark—a royal blue, the moons bright, and there are no stars.
There’s fire in the distance, and then I see a village. Little huts with Vyastil gathered—some smaller like young ones, some old with bent backs.
They look nothing like the Vyastil I’ve seen before now. They’re frail. Fragile. Overworked and tired. But they smile around the heat of the fire. And they sing.
The feeling rushing through me is love.
Then comes the woods—dark and shrouded, but the feeling I get from this space is safe.
There’s a cave with a wide, yawning maw that leads to something—water, I think.
There’s a flickering glow in the distance like fairy lights, but then I realize they’re moving.
Insects flying in the pattern to a song that seems to be coming from the cave itself.
I feel safety but also fear. And a deep, aching sorrow from missing it all.