Chapter 21
twenty-one
DANTE
My desire to not have—what are they, rodents, marsupials? I have no fucking clue what possums are classified as, but my desire not to have one in my home is warring with my need to make Cielo happy. And he looks like if I take away his little creature, he might cry.
And if he cries, I will literally die. I will perish on the spot.
So, I watch carefully as he cradles the little animal against his chest and try not to think it may be the cutest thing I have ever seen in my life.
I don’t know Zane well. I know he’s Everest’s friend. I know he’s a fucking bigot against monsters, which makes his being here with Cielo far too weird. I know that Everest thinks his best friend has a good heart and he’s worth trying to help change, and so does Quilliyn.
It’s the only reason I’m not booting his ass out of my place and flipping him off as I slam the door.
Instead of that, I get beer, which Zane takes, stares at, then sighs and shakes his head. “Actually, better not. My parents have already threatened to cut me off twice this month, and if I get a DUI, they might actually follow through.”
Well, that’s concerning. He’s more worried about keeping his trust-fund money than he is about driving safely and, you know, not killing someone.
I need to talk to Everest again and ask why we like Zane. I mean, maybe it’s the floppy curls or his biceps, or the abs I can see through his tight t-shirt. Everest is a good guy, but he also seems like the kind of man who would be distracted by cut abs.
“Alright, so,” Zane says, tapping away on his phone. “I’m sending all the possum care links to Cielo’s phone. I mean, it seems kind of straightforward, but everything I read also says they can be stubborn little bitches.”
Cielo holds the thing a little closer to his chest, like he’s trying to protect it from Zane’s insult.
Fuck, it’s cute.
“That’s fine. I’m pretty stubborn, and I think Cielo can be pretty convincing,” I answer.
Zane’s eyes cut to Cielo and linger for a moment. “Yeah. I bet.”
I want to put myself between Cielo and Zane and hiss at this guy like the little possum did, but that would not go over well. So, I take a deep breath and remind myself that Cielo is mine, and I am his.
Inasmuch as we can belong to each other.
And I don’t need to worry about Zane.
Plus, Cielo hasn’t looked at him even once. Though he hasn’t looked at me once either.
“Can I ask why you’re hanging out together and—”
“He’s nice,” Cielo interrupts quietly. He must have heard the rest of my question in his head. “He’s frennnd.”
I really need to talk to him about the concept of friends and how we can’t just accept anyone who seems nice into our lives.
But that seems patronizing. And also, I do trust Cielo’s judgment.
Maybe I can give Zane a bit of a break. My vibes have never been wrong before, but maybe today is a new start.
Maybe I’m entirely wrong about him.
“Listen, you’ve been really good to Cielo, so thank you, but if I’m not mistaken, you’re part of the group of people who hate the Vyastil here.”
Zane swallows very heavily, then shrugs. “I’m not part of anything. My parents are more intense about it than I am. I couldn’t give a fuck.”
“But Everest told me you’ve spent your entire life helping petition to have the portals closed,” I point out.
Cielo’s gaze flickers up just once, but he doesn’t seem bothered. It hits me that maybe Cielo wants that, too. Maybe he wants to go back to life without humans in it. Back to his world without all this.
Without me.
“Never, my Dante.”
His voice is like a balm, and I take a breath before realizing Zane is talking.
“…think that there’s something weird about this whole thing.
I mean, what they require is basically sexual assault.
Not giving people a choice? Or giving them the illusion of a choice, but it’s really built on a fucking guilt trip and fines and prison sentences? How is that ethical?”
I can’t argue with him. I like the Vyastil I’ve met. But I think their government is shady as fuck. Two things can be true at the same time, though. I have proof of this because Cielo, Quilliyn, and even Rathyn are good and kind, but I’ve seen what happens when their own people get punished.
It’s fucking medieval.
“I’m not saying you’re wrong. But I am saying hating an entire group of people for what their leaders have done—”
“They’re not people,” Zane snaps, then he closes his mouth tightly and casts a look over at Cielo, who isn’t paying any attention to him. Thank fuck. “Sorry. I, well…you know what I mean.”
“I don’t.” That’s a lie. I do know. But I want him to sit in the discomfort of having to explain it to me.
Of course, he doesn’t. He just sighs and stands up. “I should head out. Cielo, see you at the gym?”
“Gymmm,” Cielo hums, still not looking up.
Zane hesitates for a second, then looks at me. There’s something in his expression—something quiet, hidden. Something I don’t trust. I see it because I’ve spent most of my life using a language that requires understanding the most subtle nuances and shifts on a person’s face.
But before I can get any idea what it is, it’s gone.
Zane squares his shoulders and gives me the typical bro-nod before tossing his keys up in the air, catching them, then leaving the apartment like he was never here at all.
A few moments after the front door slams, I hear him revving his truck, and then there’s silence.
“You’re annngery,” Cielo says.
I shake my head. “No.”
‘Lie,’ Cielo signs, one hand still on the possum.
Sitting back, I eye the little creature sleeping against his chest, and I feel a tiny pulse of jealousy. I want that to be me. I want to be the one curled up against his chest, being soothed by his gentle purring. But that isn’t fair.
I’m not a pet.
I’m a person who has big feelings and no idea what to do with them. I grab Cielo’s phone and click on the first link Zane sent, reading through the beginning of the article.
It does ease my mind a little.
“Well, looks like they rarely ever get rabies, so that’s a plus. Looks like they don’t carry many diseases at all.”
“Diseaaseeee,” Cielo repeats.
“Illness,” I tell him. “It just means it’s safe to have in the house.” I lean over and, after psyching myself up, drag two fingers down the possum’s back. The hair is wiry but still soft like a baby’s. With a bath and a brush, it’ll probably be fluffy and even cuter. “What do you want to name it?”
Cielo sighs and stares down at it, then back up at me. “Niaus.” He says the word partly how it would sound in English, but there’s a humming, melodic trill that I doubt I could replicate.
I don’t even try. “Niaus,” I say.
I know I’ve got it wrong, but Cielo smiles like I’ve just solved the theory of gravity.
“What does it mean?”
He hums, then I hear his voice in my head, not aloud. “It is something we are called when we are young. A term of affection.”
“Like from your parents?”
He shakes his head, then shrugs. “No parennnnsss.”
“You don’t have parents, even ones who adopted you?”
Cielo bows his head again and shakes it.
Then he’s speaking inside my mind once more.
“Not like humans do. We are created during the breeding season. Some of us are selected to be raised in the capital. The rest are placed in the Outerlands. We are given to a village for rearing, and are nurtured, fed, educated, and trained for work.”
My head’s spinning. No parents? No cuddles, no affection? I shouldn’t be surprised, of course. Cielo was entirely unfamiliar with what a hug was, and I think he’s still figuring out cuddling.
I reach out, cupping my hand over his cheek, and wait until his eyes find mine. “That sounds lonely.”
“Lonnnnely,” he tries on his tongue. “Lonnely,” he says again, this time better. He nods. “Yes, my Dante. Is lonnely. I did not unnnderstannnd lonnely befffrrr. I do now.”
I stroke my fingers over his jaw, my heart twisting in my chest. “You don’t have to be lonely now. You know that, right? You have me. You have Everest and Rath. Quilliyn. The guys at the gym.”
“Brody,” he says with a tiny grin. “Tyler. Chadweeek.”
I hate that they can make him smile, but I also know he’s mine, and I need to manage these feelings better. “Maybe even Zane, if he’s not being a fucking dick about the Vyastil.”
Cielo frowns. I don’t know if he doesn’t understand me or if he disagrees. He doesn’t say either way, and I don’t get anything when I probe into his head.
“Look, you have family here, okay? And I meant what I said before. You have us. You won’t be alone like that ever again.”
“My Dante,” Cielo says very slowly. His hand comes up to curl around my wrist, his claws poking against my skin. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s a sharp reminder of what he is. Of who he is. Maybe it should terrify me. Maybe I should think a little deeper about what Zane said.
But then I look into Cielo’s eyes and think about everything he’s endured, I know I can’t. I don’t care what it takes. I won’t ever let anyone—human or Vyastil—ever hurt him again.
Scrubbing both hands through my hair, I sit back, my eyes a little crossed from how long I’d been reading on the monitor. For the last several weeks, I’ve been exploring every inch of Cielo’s body, making notes on the things he likes—and the things he doesn’t.
I’ve gotten info from Everest, too. And feedback from Quilliyn. Luca seemed a little reluctant to work with me on the designs for the Vyastil sex toys, but in the end, he gave in to my borderline bullying, and we got them done.
He’s spent the last week looking for a financier for our project, which I knew was going to be tricky. Even humans who tolerated and even enjoyed the presence of Vyastil didn’t seem overly on board with wanting to make their stay more comfortable.
The Vyastil already got mandatory human cum.
Why did they need to take up space in sex shops?