Chapter 4
four
CIELO
Ibreathe deeply, the air sweet, the sky a mélange of blue, red, and orange. In the distance, I see cyrathis clouds looming, green and angry.
A storm is coming, I think as my feet dig into the dirt, rushing home, back to my family, back to Alvayn and Zynath who are waiting for me to return.
I wasn’t supposed to be gone this long, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to see the portal, the opening that linked us to another place.
Earth, they call it.
I turn a corner and see the small huts poking over the horizon, and I move quicker, faster, before our charge arrives home, before he finds out that I snuck away from the fields.
I don’t want to live my life out here, and I won’t.
Soon, I’ll be registering for the service and will be able to travel through that portal.
Soon, I’ll be useful to Erethar and to Earth.
My eyes lift up to the sky, slowly covered by those dark, heavy clouds, and I see a Seymosi fly overhead, its wings flapping wildly, the sound it makes, a loud screech that has me covering my ears with my hands and wincing as it swoops toward me, its claws out and…
My eyes flick open, my hearts beating wildly in my chest. I glance around, seeing the four walls surrounding me, realizing the vision I had was just a dream.
A Seymosi isn’t going to attack me, isn’t going to leave me broken and battered like Rathyn was when Everest and I found him in that cave.
But it is dark out, the only light here coming from the ceiling in the kitchen.
Suddenly, a low groan emits from the hallway, and I sit up with a wince. I’m much better than I was when Everest pulled me from the portal, but it still hurts to move quickly.
“Fuuuck,” I hear, and I know that it is Dante, and he is in pain. I push myself up slowly, the room spinning as I go, but I steady myself with a long breath and step forward. My claws click on the cool tile floors as I make my way down the small hallway toward Dante’s room.
I’ve never been in there.
I don’t know if I’m allowed to enter, but when another moan comes from inside, my fingers can’t help but turn the doorknob. It opens easily, and in the dim light of the moon, I see Dante curled up on his bed, sweat beading on his forehead.
I can smell the distress emanating from his coiled, fragile body.
He is in pain. A pain I know a little too intimately.
I step toward him, and his eyes meet mine. “Dahhhnteee,” I attempt to say.
“Hey, hey. I’m fine,” he grunts, his hands on his stomach. “I’m sorry if I woke you. This happens sometimes, and tonight is a bad one.”
I stare down at him, unsure what is wrong. A bad one? I don’t understand.
In Erethar, there are plants you can eat that can give you the kind of pain he seems to be in, but we are not in my world. I do not know what is wrong or how to fix it.
“I’ll be fine soon,” he whispers. “Just need to wait it out. You can go back to the couch.”
I don’t like that option. I cannot stand the idea of lying in the other room while he’s in distress.
I glance at the other side of his bed. It is very small, perfect for a human. He offers me a strained smile, so unlike the ones he usually gives me, and I find myself moving toward him. I want to comfort him as he has comforted me in these recent days.
My tail unwraps from around my waist and curls around his ankle as I kneel down beside him.
He meets my gaze, his dark irises surrounded by bright white, so unlike the Vyastil.
I reach a hand out, my finger running across his forehead.
The beads of sweat collect against my skin, and he sighs at the touch.
“Oh. That feels nice,” he says, his eyes closing. I do it again, stroking my fingers down his cheek. He leans into my touch, and I feel my body respond. My tail tightens around him, and without really thinking, I begin to thrymm, the vibrations rumbling deep inside my chest.
“Mm, you’re cool.” He reaches up and brings my palm to his overheated cheek.
My thrymm grows.
“Are you purring?” he asks, and I feel my ears flutter.
Is that what humans call it? “Purr,” I say.
He grins and presses his hand to my chest to feel it. “Yeah. I like that sound. I like how it feels against me.” He sighs again as my thrymm grows louder. “Could you, like…lie down behind me? But don’t hurt yourself, okay? If it’ll be too much…”
I cut him off, my tail unwrapping from around him, and I crawl over his body, unsure of what he wants me to do. But when he scoots over, his back hits my side, and his arm reaches over to pull my hand against his chest.
I lay my palm where he wants it, feeling his weak, fragile heartbeat against it, and I allow my thrymm to soothe him. It’s not entirely voluntary. I want to make him better, and this is the only way I know how.
It is unexpected the way I am responding to him, but I cannot contain it. My desire for him is almost alive.
“That feels nice,” he whispers, and I gently wrap my tail around him once more, like a hug.
In my arms, he feels different than other humans do. I don’t know how to explain it. I care for Everest. He is my friend—a strange, human concept that still scares me a little. I am protective of him.
I will kill for him.
I will die for him.
And hugging him has always felt nice and comforting. But it’s not the same as it feels to hold Dante. The moment I met him, something shifted inside me. A need. A yearning. It’s everything we are told we’re not meant to want. Everything we’ve been told is dangerous for the future of our species.
I should run from it, but all I can do is pull him closer, letting my thrymm rumble louder through my chest. I can feel him relaxing against me, and it does something to me to know that I am bringing him peace.
Leaning my nose against his temple, I take a deep breath. His scent is familiar. Like home.
“Thank you,” he murmurs after a long, long while.
My lips and tongue work. Human languages have been almost impossible for me, but in this moment, my tongue no longer feels like it’s tied in knots, and I manage to respond, “Welllcommm.”
He laughs sleepily, then nestles back against me. “Will you stay? Tonight, will you stay? I know it’s small and uncomfortable, but—”
“Dahhnnnte,” I manage. He goes quiet, and I huff, holding him just a bit tighter.
He has no idea what uncomfortable and small is. Compared to where I’ve been, this is heaven.
When I say nothing more, he twists his head and looks at me, eyebrows lifted. I have absorbed so much of their signed language from dinner. Not everything, but enough for this.
I point to myself, then sign, ‘Me. Stay. Yes.’
His face softens, then he closes his eyes, lays his ear against my thundering hearts, and eventually his breathing evens and he falls asleep.
I wake alone. There’s pain in my body, but not nearly as much as there has been. And there’s a scent in the room which is the reason I’ve come around.
Cum.
I peel one eye open and find two small bottles sitting on the nightstand. It takes me a moment to realize where I am and why everything smells like Dante. I’m still in his bed, and the fact that I slept through him leaving is…
I don’t know what this feeling is, but I don’t like it.
I want to be aware. Alert. I want to protect him should anything threaten to hurt him. This is what I was trained to do, but how can I do that if I don’t even notice him shifting out of my arms and leaving?
I know it’s because I’m still healing. Everything the Vyastil guards did to me…
But no. I don’t want to think about that now. My people are fair, but when the need arises, they are brutal. And when it comes to enforcing laws, there is no room for interpretation or negotiation. The fact that I was released is a miracle.
I should have been sent to the mines to live and die a shortened life for my transgressions.
But I am here. I am torn from my family, never to see them or Erethar again. But I am alive.
And, against all odds, I am comfortable.
My fingers tremble as I take both bottles off the nightstand, and my tongue laps at them eagerly. The few times I had tasted cum before coming here were also from factories. Those bottles were old and stale, mixed with synthetic liquid to make them last longer.
They were not the same as this. Dante told me he procured this from the same place, and I do not believe he would lie to me, but I don’t understand why it is so different. Why is my craving almost unbearable?
I lick the bottles clean, then drop them on the nightstand as the cum courses through me. I feel a rush of energy, surges of clarity in my head. The pain eases, and I feel…strong.
Alive.
The fatigue that has plagued me for decades is nothing more than a ghost.
I turn my head and notice a piece of paper resting on Dante’s pillow. It simply says that he’ll be home after work and that I should rest. My gaze lingers on the swoop of his neat handwriting and the curves of his name.
Drawing in a deep breath and pushing myself to stand, I look down to inspect the wounds on my chest from the whips, but there’s nothing more than twinging scars left behind. I peel away the bandages completely, then wander into the human’s bathroom and stare at the shower.
I’m far too large to stand in there comfortably, but the thought of warm water washing away the last vestiges of my blood mingled with the healing herbs Rathyn provided is too tempting.
And I do not think Dante would mind.
It takes me a moment to work out how to get the water running, and it comes out so cold I almost give up. But eventually the temperature changes, and soothing steam begins to billow from the stream.
I drop to my knees to fit beneath the spout, the tiles unkind to my aching body, but that pain is nothing compared to what I’ve felt before. Dante has sweet-smelling soaps that lather with thick bubbles, and they collect the sweat, blood, and dirt left behind on my body.
It swirls down the drain, and as it does—as I feel clean—the grief from everything I’ve been through and everything I’ve lost starts to set in.