Chapter 61
Sixty-One
Sylis
For the first three days I lived with the Dragons, they asked nothing of me.
I was told to rest - sleep if I could - and recover from my ordeal.
Oddly, that didn't mean I was locked away.
When I'd stayed in my new room too long on the first day back, the smaller green Dragon had come to check on me.
Omden was hard to look at. The man's skin was so vividly green, my eyes kept wanting to see rainbows shimmering on his skin. Instead, the color was just plain green, except for his eerie red eyes and the lines that trailed from them to his hairline.
Then there was Drozel. He was massive - easily as tall as Tobias, if not more. His skin was mostly tan with black markings, but there were green sections on his sides. Both men had sandy-colored chests and bellies, and I was sure of that because they rarely wore a shirt inside.
Not that the Dragon woman, Lessa, was any better.
Her clothing was such a mixture of vivid colors and confusing pieces I didn't know what to make of her.
Half the time, her arms were covered but her cleavage and belly were exposed.
If she covered those, then her legs were hanging out well above her knees! And yet, everyone here accepted it.
Meri dressed better, but even her clothing was shocking to me. She often wore loose pants and tight-fitting shirts. All of her outfits were either in garish colors or bold patterns. And yet, seeing her like this? It felt right for her. Overwhelming, sure, but right.
The best part was the laughter. I'd never heard people so willing to laugh about things as these "evil" Dragons.
But they did! They made jokes that didn't seem proper.
Granted, I could only guess that from the expressions on Meri's face.
They also enjoyed the smallest things - especially their food.
Because of my wound, the black-scaled man they called a doctor had said I had to be on a restricted diet.
I'd expected that to mean small portions and fewer meals, but I was wrong.
It meant more! Breakfast was a concoction made from milk called yogurt.
It was flavored with syrup from a tree and a spice called vanilla.
Drozel apologized for the bland food, but it was amazing!
Then there were the soups. I was given two of those during the day, and each was from a different meat and filled with so many vegetables, I hadn't finished a bowl yet.
Dinner was closer to what I'd had in the compound.
Meat, fungus, plants, and tubers were all mixed together into something called stew, but they added more as well. Spices. Butter. Small rolls of bread.
Then, yesterday, Meri had informed me it was time to start learning Vestrian.
She'd handed me a book with a cover I could read.
It said "English to Westrian Translation" on it, and that was how I got my very first lesson.
Evidently, a man named Kanik should be teaching me, but I was sure Meri was doing an amazing job.
Even better, the Dragons continued to speak my language around me.
Occasionally, they slipped and used their own, but those were for conversations I wasn't a part of.
Considering I was supposed to be a prisoner here, proving myself so I could be released, I was starting to wonder if I wanted out, because this was amazing!
Never mind the question of where I'd go.
And every day, my wound healed. No redness showed up.
I never got a fever. On the fifth morning I was in this new place, I woke up and stretched without thinking, surprised to feel only a minor pinch in my waist. Thrilled, I sat up - and could do it.
Yes, there was still discomfort, but I was healing!
I climbed out of the wonderfully soft bed, found some clothes, and crossed the hall to use the facilities. This house had two, I'd been told, and this one was for Meri and me. The men had another in their room, and when Lessa visited, she used theirs as well.
Finding the door open, I not only did my business, but cleaned myself better than I had in a while.
I had to use the sink and a cloth, and the hair on my chin was now long enough to be visible, but I was sure I wouldn't be allowed a razor to fix that.
I did borrow Meri's brush to finally put my hair back in place.
When I left the bathroom, I felt good. Human, even. Less than a week ago, I'd been sure I was about to die. Now, I was dressed in crisp cloth, presentable, and a "captive" in a house where I was more free than I'd ever been before. Maybe I could do something nice to show my appreciation?
I was thinking about that as I turned into the kitchen - and stopped hard.
Drozel's back was to me. His arm was pressed against the wall, and a green tail was twined around his leg.
That was what I noticed first, but a split-second later, I realized the tail belonged to Omden, and it wasn't the only thing wrapped around Drozel.
Omden's hands held the man in a way that should not be done!
And their mouths were connected, moving, and passionate.
I turned so fast my shoulder clipped the rack by the door. A plate clattered. Something else fell, and one of those men sucked in a breath, but I was ducking out the door just as fast as I could.
"Sylis!" Drozel snarled.
"I'm sorry, sir!" I yelped, trying to decide if I should go back to my room or hide in another.
The living room seemed like a bad idea. I certainly wasn't going to enter anyone else's private chambers, but the bathroom? I could use that! They wouldn't disturb me in there, and they'd forget I'd been in the wrong place in a few seconds.
But Drozel's next words crushed my half-formed plan. "Come here! Now!"
"Sir..." I tried
Softly, Omden said, "Be nice, baby."
"No," Drozel said before raising his voice again. "I don't hear you walking, Sylis."
My heart was pounding in my chest. They told me it was okay. They'd admitted they all did it, but that was vastly different from having a stranger burst into the middle of it! Such things were meant to be kept private, but I hadn't known. I'd thought the kitchen was a public area.
"I didn't realize I should knock," I said as I rounded the corner, keeping my eyes on the ground.
Drozel closed the distance between us, then hooked a finger under my chin, lifting my face from the floor. I could feel the tip of his claw denting the soft skin there, and the way his thumb touched my jawline was gentle. It was his weird Dragon eyes that made my heart trip.
Green. Not bright green, but the muddy sort we found growing on trees. Lessa would know the name of it, but to me they looked similar to Tobias's. Light, but not pale. Not blue. Not like the Righteous.
Drozel ran his thumb along my jaw a second time, making the hair there crackle. "Growing a beard?"
"I didn't think I'd be allowed a razor."
He murmured. "The beard makes you look older. I like how it defines your jaw." Then he let my face go and dropped his hand down on my shoulder. "And if you catch me kissing my partners?"
"Lessa's just a friend," Omden countered.
"I'm trying to use terms he'd understand," Drozel explained.
Which made Omden grin. His eyes were on me, acting like that smile was meant for me, and it made a little curl form on my own lips. Immediately, the fear I'd been fighting began to evaporate.
"We should start at the beginning," Omden said, moving closer - and leaning in to kiss Drozel's neck as he passed the man. "Come, Sylis. You need to be sitting instead of standing. Baby, we both are going to need a tea. The warm kind."
Drozel's tail flicked once. "Only because you asked nicely."
Omden chuckled as he guided me to the couch, and then sat down beside me the way Meri always did. "Why did you run?" he asked.
"I didn't realize the kitchen was a private space, sir."
"It's not," Omden said. "And the sir thing isn't necessary.
" He leaned in, resting his hand on my knee and met my eyes.
"For Dragons, our entire home is a sort of private space.
See, we have a level of privacy between the complete public masks Moles are expected to wear and the atrocities that happen behind closed doors which you people call 'private. '"
"I don't know what that means," I admitted.
"It means," Drozel said as he came into the room carrying three cups of tea - and then he paused.
It wasn't to set down the cups. No, his eyes dropped to where Omden's hand rested on my leg and stayed there a little too long. It was almost as if the entire man had simply frozen in time for a heartbeat. Then his tail flicked again and the man began passing out the warm tea he'd just made.
"It means," Drozel tried again, "that when we're in public, we speak a certain way to not upset anyone around us. It's different from how Moles do it, though. Mostly, we try not to say adult things where children can hear, or cruel things about someone else."
"Then there's a level of public that's for friends," Omden said, taking over like the pair shared their minds.
"You probably felt it when you were with Tobias.
You could say improper things and know he wouldn't tell anyone.
You had secrets. You could scratch your ass if it itched and not worry about being yelled at for it, right? "
"Yeah," I said, knowing exactly what he was talking about.
"That's the level of public for this house," Omden said.
But Drozel made a little noise, cutting him off.
"The difference, Sylis, is that for Dragons, showing affection is expected.
I hug my friends. I kiss my lovers - and yes, I have more than one.
That's also allowed. I use profanity, I fart, and I say rude things without thinking.
" He glanced at Omden's hand again and smiled.
"Other things are completely private, like fucking my partners. Changing clothes. Bathing, even."
"Not kissing," Omden said.
"But..." I looked between them. "You are both men." And I didn't really know what to say after that. I only knew my brain wanted a hard stop right there. They were men. It wasn't done. To show respect, I shouldn't look - and I couldn't get past that part.
"I kiss women too," Drozel said.
"I don't," Omden told me.
I leaned forward for my tea. "I.." Nope, I still couldn't figure out what came next, so I took a sip, yet they kept watching me. "I want to say it's not allowed," I admitted. "You said it's not a problem. I remember that. I just can't..."
"Believe it," Omden finished for me, nodding to show he understood. "Sylis, have you ever done more than kiss a man?"
"I..." My face was heating up. "It was only that once!"
"What was?" Drozel asked.
"I thought Tobias didn't want to be married either, so I... And then I just... And he didn't..."
"Him kissing Tobias," Omden told Drozel. "That's all he's done."
"Mm..." Drozel murmured. "Well, explain a few things to him, Ommy. I'm going to find the man a razor. I'm sure Lessa has one somewhere." Then he stood and headed straight out the front door.
Omden chuckled the moment it closed. "He's so bad with these talks," he told me. "Droz tries, but he's a little rough around the edges. It's part of his charm, though. I happen to like my men big and strong."
"Why is he going for a razor?" I asked, deciding that was safe.
"Because you are growing a beard, Sylis. We don't. Scales don't grow hair like that. And this is his best attempt to do something nice for you when he's a little embarrassed."
"Because I caught you two kissing?" I asked.
"No," Omden said. "Because I want to know if you even understand how sex works with men."
"I... But... That's to create children!"
"And fun," Omden said. "You see, when a man likes another, there are so many things he can do to feel good with him.
We're going to start easy, Sylis. The first thing you need to know?
I will kiss that man. I don't usually do it with strangers around, but I don't think you're a stranger anymore, are you? "
"I don't know, sir."
"Omden or Ommy," he corrected. "Lessa gave me the latter, and I'm starting to like it."
"Sounds like something a man should be angry about, like a child's name."
"Or a term of endearment," Omden countered.
"And up here, there's not a single thing wrong with wanting someone to care about you.
Sylis, falling in love is one of the most powerful things a person can do.
It makes you more of a man than taking a life.
It lifts you up, makes you realize who you are, and gives you a purpose like nothing else.
" And he gently rubbed my leg. "That means it's not something to be ashamed of. "
"But you can't have children with him."
"I can't have children with Lessa either," he pointed out. "Tailed women can't. That's why our people don't love like yours. We don't hoard it, Sylis. We certainly are never ashamed of it, and in this house, you're allowed to look, to ask, and to stop trying to hide it."
"Okay," I agreed.
"Even when my partner cups your jaw and makes you want to lean in."
And my face began to burn all over again, but I didn't deny it. He'd just said not to be ashamed of it, and this was me trying. Maybe I couldn't meet his eyes, but I also wouldn't tell him a lie.
So I simply said, "I think I like the big ones too. The problem is all Dragons seem rather large, and muscular..." I had to swallow to keep my voice working. "And beautifully colored."
"Only the men," Omden assured me.
"Those are the ones I seem to notice," I admitted.
"Good," he told me.