He’s not wrong. The problem is, I’m not allowed to tell him even a fraction of the things I’ve seen. I hate it with every fiber of my being because while I’m head over heels for Rathyn and wouldn’t change a thing, Zane is my person.
He’s my family.
He’s been my ride or die since I can remember. He’s the sole reason I didn’t fall apart under the not-quite-tender loving care of my aunt and uncle.
“Things are…weird. Different,” I tell him. “Being…” I stop. I almost saidbeing in love, and that is a problem. “Being Rathyn’s companion isn’t what I thought.”
Zane’s eyes narrow. “Has he hurt you?”
I almost choke on my next swallow. “Dude, no. I’m like a fucking pampered Pomeranian. It’s just…the Vyastil aren’t what I thought.”
“What does that mean?”
I can’t tell him that, either. But the more I’ve visited Erethar and the more Vyastil I’ve met, the more I’m starting to think their utopia isn’t exactly like they want us to believe.
The way they treat Cielo is suspicious as fuck. I haven’t even seen where he lives, and Rathyn obviously doesn’t mind having him around. He trusts him. But it’s obvious he doesn’t think much about him either, which I hate.
“I don’t know. We can talk about it later. I just—” My words are interrupted by a familiar voice, and I turn to see Dante from the sex shop striding over, looking hot as fuck in his Lycra, his pink hair braided down his back.
“Oh, hi there!” He’s not looking at me. His eyes are fixed on the Vyastil in the beanbag chair. “Cielo, right?” He lifts his hands and signs at the same time.
Cielo nods and responds with a flick of his wrist.
Then Dante turns his gaze toward Zane and me. “Hello. Nice to see you again.”
“Same.” I glance at Cielo, who’s watching us like a hawk. “Didn’t know you went here.”
Dante sighs. “Yeah, it’s a new thing. I’m trying to get into shape. For, you know, my health and extracurricular activities. My brother’s constantly giving me shit about my noodle arms, so…here I am.”
He peers over at Cielo and winks, making Cielo take a nervous sip of his latte, leaving a bit of frothed milk on his upper lip. I wonder if Cielo even knows Dante’s flirting with him. I wonder if he knows what kind of pleasure a Vyastil is capable of feeling.
I don’t imagine it’s more than Rathyn did, but then again, they come from very different worlds, and I haven’t asked.
Dante grins and leans down, brushing the foam mustache away with his thumb, making Cielo’s ears flutter, and his claws poke out. It destroys the paper cup he’s holding, and the latte immediately spills all over him, drenching his pink coat and covering his skin.
Dante lets out a huff of laughter as Cielo tries to catch it all, but it’s too late. The latte is gone, and he’s wearing it now.
“Aw, you poor thing,” Dante says as Cielo blinks up at him. “Come on. I’ll get you a towel.”
Cielo is staring at his coat with a devastated look on his face as he tries to wipe off the stains. He glances at me as if to say, “Help,” and makes a distressed noise.
“It’s okay,” Dante says and signs. “I know a great dry cleaner, and he’s right next door, so your coat won’t be ruined.”
Cielo stares. “Cleeeeen?”
“Clean,” Dante says, then shows him the sign for it. “I promise. You mind if I steal him?” he asks me.
I wave him off. “Go for it. He loves that thing.”
Dante grins. “He should.” He turns to face Cielo. “It looks amazing on you. We wouldn’t want it ruined.” Holding out a hand, he waits patiently for Cielo to decide if he’s going to get up or not.
After a short forever, Cielo sighs, then rolls to the side, falling onto all fours, and then pops up.
“There we go,” Dante says.
He’s still signing as he speaks, and I can see the way Cielo’s eyes follow. He’s clearly absorbing it all, which tells me I should probably learn more. I doubt Cielo will ever figure out a way to speak English, but if sign language helps him, I ought to brush up on my skills.
“I’ll have him back in two shakes,” Dante says, not letting Cielo’s hand go.
