Taste (Feed and Feast #2)

Chapter 1

one

CIELO

Pain. It’s all I’ve known for what feels like an age, though it has only been one first moon since they took me into custody. The devastated look on Everest’s face followed me into the prison.

It kept me up at night. It was there behind my eyelids while they beat me.

He is blaming himself, and I cannot allow him to do that. This is not his fault. I disobeyed direct orders. I am at fault. I was given the chance to prove myself—to protect my family and village. To show the capital that the Outerlands are not a waste of Eretharian air.

And I failed.

The fact that Everest was there to wrap me in his arms was a gift I did not reject, but I probably should have.

And then he came.

Dante.

The kind one. The one who gave me a language to communicate when my tongue could not form human words. His hands flow like water over submerged rocks—a beautiful dance, like silent music.

And while the nightmares still follow me, even while I’m awake, as I leave the Foundry behind, my newly disgraced, banished identity nipping at my heels, I feel some measure of comfort.

I am injured, but I will heal.

I am lost, but with the humans I have learned to call friends, I will not stay that way.

I can smell the herbs Rathyn provided Dante to help me heal. Yet another kindness I do not deserve, especially from a Vyastil of his station. After all, he was the one I disobeyed. He gave me orders to protect Everest at all costs, and I allowed my friendship to cloud my judgment.

I put Everest in danger, and for that, I should have suffered more than this.

In my haze, we eventually reach the place where Dante lives. It is across the street from his shop, a modest home that smells like him, and I stumble through the door. The pain overwhelms any grace I might possess, and as he guides me to a long sofa, I collapse with a groan I can’t hold back.

The more cognizant I become, the more aware I am of the pain and how it will last. It is not just physical, it is a brand on my soul. I have lost my home and my brothers, and I will never get them back.

“It’s okay,” Dante murmurs, in an attempt to soothe me. He kneels beside me, digging around in a small bag before producing a container of herbs. My mouth waters at the prospect of some relief. “Rathyn says these will help.”

My mouth falls open, and he lays several on my tongue. They will not cure me, but the reprieve from the agony is almost instant. It fades into a dull throb, and that allows me to breathe easier for the first time in what feels like an eternity.

I lift my hand and tip my fingers from my chin. ‘Thank you.’

He laughs. “You’re welcome. You learned fast.”

I had motivation. He was my motivation. But I do not tell him that.

Not in signs, not in my poor attempt to speak his language.

Closing my eyes, I let myself drift as he pulls away.

I take comfort that I can hear him moving about the apartment, pouring water into a glass, the thick sound of his throat swallowing.

And then he returns to my side.

His light fingers explore my face, and I crack my one unswollen eye open to see him looming over me. His hair is still pink, braided at the sides and pulled into a low bun. His shirt falls over one shoulder, baring it to me. I enjoy this look on him very much.

I would enjoy it so much more if I were not so injured.

“So, ah…not to be, you know, indelicate, but I’m not sure how we do this.”

I make a questioning noise in the back of my throat and try to sit up. I do not know what he speaks of.

His cheeks turn a beautiful dark pink. It reminds me of the zyrlune flower when it blooms. Then he gestures down at where his human cock is hidden beneath his clothes.

It is still odd to me that their cocks are out in the open with no protection. I fear something so precious may become easily injured.

He points at it again, and I still do not understand what he means.

“God, this is…well, Everest said you need cum, and I have plenty of it. So, how does it work? You just, you know, suck?”

Shock races through me. Even at my highest station, I was not permitted cum from the source. In fact, I have only tasted it twice. The Outerlanders are denied such luxuries.

And now that I am banished? Such a thing would never be allowed. Not ever.

I quickly turn my face away, but he touches me again. “You need to heal, Cielo. Please. Please let me help you.”

‘Can’t,’ I sign, my hands trembling. It aches to lift them, but still I add, ‘Not allowed.’

He rubs a hand down his face and sighs loudly. “Like…at all? Or from my dick? Because I know there are factories, so…”

I close my eyes. The herbs are working, and the fatigue hitting me is so powerful, it’s almost worse than the medicine. My breathing evens out, and somewhere off in the distance, I hear Dante give up.

As he should.

It’s for the best.

I do not know how much time passes, but I wake suddenly to a scent that sends a craving ripping through me. My eye flutters open, and I sit up, gasping in pain as I look around. The pain is bone deep, an ache that feels as though it will never be fully satisfied.

As my eye takes in the room, I see Dante there. The light has shifted toward evening, and he’s staring at me warily, holding something in his hands. My attention settles on it.

It’s a glass bottle filled with something pale and opaque.

Clearing his throat, he takes a step forward. “Look, I don’t know what happened to you. Not entirely. I don’t know why you have to refuse me, but I promised Everest I would make you better. So…so I got this for you.”

He closes the distance between himself and the sofa, then drops to his knees beside me and pushes the bottle into my hands.

It’s oddly warm, and the scent is unmistakable.

I’m too afraid to ask what this is. I’m terrified of the answer, and terrified that I might find the courage to refuse what my body so desperately needs.

“Please,” he whispers. “I know this will help.”

I should not look, and yet I cannot help but stare at it.

The liquid inside is glistening, tempting.

My mouth begins to water, and I know then that I’m not strong enough to say no, even when I should.

Opening the top, I’m overwhelmed by the scent, and my tongue flicks out, dipping through the hole of the bottle as I taste it.

It is Elythuun—the blessed sky beyond this life.

I groan and thrymm at the same time and lose my ability to stop myself as I hold the bottle and lap it up. Big, lush, rich tonguefuls of cum pour into my mouth, and when the bottle is empty, I lie back and lick the inside until every drop is gone.

Relief hits me in ways I have never known. I feel my skin begin to knit together, the swelling in my eye reducing, the pain in my broken ribs easing into a fading ache. The scars will last, but eventually what I endured will become nothing more than a dwindling nightmare.

My gaze finds Dante still sitting beside me, watching with an expression I cannot read. I feel something like embarrassment mingling with gratitude pulse through me, and I set the bottle aside before tipping my fingers from my chin again.

‘Thank you.’

“You’re welcome.”

I would like to converse more, but I feel too tired to try. My body has much healing to do, and I slump over, shooting Dante an apologetic look.

“No, don’t,” he murmurs. “It’s okay.”

His hand passes over my forehead, and it may be the best thing I have ever felt. It is laced with kindness and care. I do not know if I have ever felt such a thing from another.

“Rest, okay? I’m going to prepare some of those other herbs, alright?”

I nod.

He stands, then turns back to face me. “Cielo,” he says.

I very much like the way he says my name. I give him a soft hum.

“I know I haven’t said it, but just know that I’m glad you’re here. And I’m glad you’re alive. I’m going to take such good care of you.”

I let my chin hit my chest and feel my tongue looser than it has ever been. I test the movement, then open my mouth and manage to say without much trouble at all, “Dahhhntehhhh.”

He flushes, and I find that I would like to see his cheeks stay that pretty color. “Yeah, that’s me.”

I want to say it again, but I’m fading quickly. I close my eyes and find myself dozing to the human sound of what is meant to be my punishment, but might actually be the thing that saves me.