The zitha. I almost forgot about it.
But he remembered, of course he did. He wants me cured, wants to offer me a part of him to help me heal.
I swallow it down, consuming him and the Eretharian herb.
And as I lie there, Cielo’s tongue lapping at my skin, cleaning up the mess he made on my chin and neck, I feel it. The first tingles of something being stitched back together within me.
And for the first time since the pain started, I feel a fresh wave of hope wash over me.
twenty-six
CIELO
In the cave, Dante sleeps while I lie beside him. The xinhar cradles us both, formed against our bodies as Dante sways gently in its ever-moving grasp. It has been so long since I have felt settled, though I cannot feel entirely at peace knowing that my actions have hurt my village.
Dante is safe now, but what must come next?
With Sabik gone, I have put out the fire, and a collection of githyn have entered the cave, lighting up the space above us like so many human stars. We do not have those on Erethar—a view of many stars. What lies beyond us is only accessible through the portals.
What the humans call their universe is vast and overflowing with so much light and planets and life. But I do not know if that exists in our realm.
We have several different species living here. So many that I cannot name them all. But after stepping through the portal and seeing Earth and what lies beyond its skies, this place feels very lonely and small.
Like we were an experiment gone wrong, and now we are being left to slowly fade into nothingness.
The ache plagues me as I sit up, and Dante groans, his small human hands reaching for me. His eyes open, the light from the githyn glinting off the white parts on the sides, and he sits up halfway.
“Pain?” I ask.
He shakes his head, wobbling a bit from the unsteady ground beneath him. The xinhar keeps him from falling, though, and aids him as he lifts up and climbs onto my thighs, cradling himself in my arms.
His body feels sweet against mine. I never want to give this up. His head tilted to the side is tempting me again, and my fangs ache to taste him. To seal our bond.
To make him truly VySytheh.
But I do not believe he understands this concept, and right now, I cannot make him the promise my VySytheh would deserve.
“What are those things?” he murmurs, pointing upward.
It is novel that I can share parts of my world with him. As terrified as I am of being caught, the fear is not greater than my need to keep him here as long as I am able.
“Githyn,” I tell him, speaking somewhere between English and Eretharian. He attempts to repeat it, his voice failing to reach the proper harmony, his tongue too thick and stiff to get the sounds right.
And yet, his attempt is still beautiful.
‘Insects,’ I sign. I don’t trust myself yet to try the word aloud. ‘Lights.’
He nods, then reaches down beside my thigh and touches the moving ground. “This?”
“Xinhar.”
He does not attempt that word, and even that makes me smile. His face turns up to mine, and I can no longer resist him.Leaning down, I kiss him deeply, tasting myself and the fresh-grown zitha on his tongue.
He hums and arches into me, though I can feel through our connection that he is not looking for more. He does not wish for climax. He simply wishes to touch, and that is something I will always give him.
It is something I will always crave.
“Do we have to stay in this cave, or is it safe to go out?”
