Chapter 8
JUNE
I’ve kept my distance from the town square since my encounter with the local mean girls three days ago.
I had hoped this kind of behavior was restricted to humans, but apparently the universe is filled with every variety of asshole.
It would’ve been nice to have a few local girlfriends, but if their main source of entertainment is gossiping about newly settled refugees, then I’d rather have no friends at all.
I’m too old for this high school bullshit.
But after Akkal finished his dinner tonight, he begged me for a frozen fruit stick, so here we are, returning to the scene of the crime.
Having him by my side keeps things in perspective, thankfully, because it’s hard to be upset about friendship drama when this cutie is saying hello to all the plants we pass.
“What’s his name?” I ask when he pats the top of a thick bush with butter-yellow leaves.
“Her name is Rustafereesa,” he says, “and she’s been here as long as the shore itself.”
“Oh, well,” I say with mock remorse, bowing my head to the plant. “My apologies, madame.”
“She forgives you.” Then he takes the black rubber ball I brought along with us out of my rope bag and starts throwing it up in the air.
He’s all over the place. I love him.
There’s a commotion ahead, and it only grows louder the closer we get to the frozen stick stand.
There are sirens and yelling and the sound of something else I can’t decipher.
It isn’t until we round the corner to the center of town that I realize it’s a fire coming from one of the taller apartment buildings right above a noodle restaurant.
Black smoke is billowing out of a broken window on the second floor from the top, where a tall ladder is leaning against the bricks.
The firetrucks here are a bright orange instead of red and their sirens sound more like a ghost with whooping cough than the “weeeeee-hoooooo” I remember.
A crowd gathers around the firetruck as they watch the windows, and I can’t help but follow their lead.
What if Zivren is trapped inside? I’m sure he’s a skilled firefighter, but you never know when it comes to smoke inhalation.
Oh god.
What if he’s passed out somewhere and the rest of his crew can’t find him?
Did I just bring Zivren’s son to witness his potential death?
My mind reels as I start to guide Akkal away from the scene.
I’d never forgive myself if Akkal was forced to watch his father’s dead body being pulled out of the building.
That kind of trauma would completely rewire his growing brain.
“Come on, bud. We shouldn’t watch this.”
“But it’s a fire,” he says, tugging on my hand. “Vatra might be here.”
This is a small island, so it’s very likely he is here. Which is the point. I don’t say it, though. Instead, I pull Akkal’s warrior toy out of the rope bag and wave it in front of his face as a distraction. “Hey, what flavor fruit stick do you think Soppo would like? Let’s get him one too!”
“Vatra! Vatra!” he shouts back, pointing over my shoulder.
I brace myself as I slowly turn around, hoping whatever I’m about to see isn’t too graphic.
If it is, I’m officially the worst nanny in history.
When I lift my gaze to the apartment on fire, I spot Zivren using his back two arms to climb down the ladder, and his front two are carrying what looks to be a large lizard.
The lizard is draped across the wide expanse of Ziv’s chest, princess style, as he takes one hand off the ladder to wave to a now cheering crowd.
“Oh my…” I swallow as I join in on the applause.
“God.” He hops down the seven or so feet from the top of the truck and lands with the smoothness of an action hero, where he hands the lizard off to a short elderly male with thick gray fur covering his body.
The elderly male wipes tears from his cheeks and pats Ziv on the arm as a thank you. The crowd erupts even louder.
I hear whispers nearby and look over to find two of the mean girls a few feet away, fanning themselves and gawking at my fake mate.
I’m inclined to walk over and let them know who he’s coming home to later, but I’m too distracted by the warmth pooling in my belly.
Two other firefighters emerge from the window with survivors, but I can’t pay attention to that either because Ziv is taking off his thick coat to reveal a snug orange T-shirt beneath his yellow-and-black suspenders.
The black triangle markings around his wrists and forearms are on full display, and they get bigger the closer they get to his elbow.
I’d like to trace every one of those triangles with my tongue at some point.
Fuck. What am I doing? I can’t bring this energy back to the house with me.
I’ve been attracted to him the entire time, but this is a new level.
This is raw, unfiltered, feral need. My pussy is pulsing at the thought of him yanking that shirt over his head, slowly crawling toward me on the bed, and fucking me within an inch of my life, and if I don’t put a lid on it, I’m going to have trouble acting like a normal person around him.
“Okay, I’m sure Vatra has a lot more work to do here to make sure everyone is safely out of the building, so let’s not bother him,” I tell Akkal. “Why don’t we grab our fruit sticks and head back home?”
Akkal laces the fingers of his front hands together and presses them beneath his chin. “Soppo can have one too, yes?”
Huh. I didn’t think he heard me offer that. Little stinker. “Yes, Soppo gets one too.”