“Last nyyyyt,” he says.
“What? Why didn’t you wake me up?”
He makes an irritated, impatient noise. “Sleeeep. You neeeed rest.”
I want to roll my eyes, but he’s not wrong. The pain, the treatment, all of it took it out of me. I was fucking wrecked, andas good as I feel now, it wouldn’t have been the same if I’d been dragged out of bed last night.
“Alright, fair enough. So, what happened? Was Rathyn pissed off?”
He quickly shakes his head, then I feel that pressure in my temple telling me he wants to speak that way. I know it’s easier for him, so I relax my thoughts and let him in.
“I wish to return to Erethar and bring my brothers home.”
“Home?” I say aloud, startled. “Here?”
He ducks his head a bit but nods. “Hooome.” He reaches a hand out and presses it against my chest.“You are my home. They are not safe. Rathyn said he will assist, but I must speak with Quilliyn to see if he can find a place for them to stay.”
I vaguely remember his brothers. I was in agony when I shuffled toward the village, but now that I’m thinking with a clearer head, and with the images Cielo is projecting into my mind, I see how bad they are.
They’re tired. Dirty. Almost emaciated.
They’re suffering, and once again, I refuse to believe the punishment fits the crime.
“Okay. We can do that. I—oh fuck. I have to open the shop!”
Cielo curls his hand around my wrist and holds me tight, shaking his head. “Luca. Werrrk shup fer you.”
I could kiss him for knowing to ask my brother, but that seems patronizing. Cielo is nothing if not observant. I kiss him anyway, but that’s just for the pleasure of doing it. “Thank you,” I whisper.
He nods and tips his forehead against mine for a brief moment. I’m coming to understand this gesture as one of not just affection, but respect.
“Okay, let me eat something, and then we can head over to the gym and see if Quilliyn can help you out.”
Cielo looks pleased and releases me so I can dig into the fridge for everything I need to make a sandwich. Considering how bad the pain was, I’m now ravenous, and I could damn-well eat a horse if that wouldn’t be nasty as fuck.
“Tell you what,” I say as I smear mayo on both sides of my baguette. I grab the turkey and lettuce next and begin to assemble my lunch. “After I eat this, you can hop in the shower with me and have your breakfast.”
Cielo’s eyes cut to the bowl of moss that he has left over, then back to me, and he frowns. “Breaaakfasss?”
I reach over and take his hand, pressing it to where my cock is just starting to harden. “Yeah. Breakfast.”
His eyes widen with understanding, and he sucks in a breath before grabbing my arm by the wrist and pressing my own palm to his slit. “And medicinnnnn.”
I stare, then burst into laughter before dropping my knife and surging into a heavy, hard kiss.
The shower takes longer than I anticipated. The entire time Cielo was on his knees with his long tongue milking my cock and balls for everything they were worth, I could feel the slight anxious feeling coming off him.
It’s an urgency to leave, to speak with Quilliyn, and to save his brothers.
But he took his time taking his cum, and then took his time spreading himself out on the bed so I could take mine.
I have no idea if his cum alone will help me, but I feel a little more bounce in my step as we leave the apartment and slide into the car. The sun is out, so it’s a little warm, but I put downthe windows and crank some old EDM that Luca left on the player.
He loves club music because the bass is so heavy, and if I listen to anything, it’s usually my Spotify playlist of ’90s alt-rock and riot grrrl bands. But Cielo seems to enjoy the electronica melodies, and I kind of get why.
They sound a lot like the hums and tones Vyastil make when they’re speaking to each other. He leans his head back, strands of his hair whipping around his face as he taps his tail on his leg to the beat.
In this moment, I’m so happy it’s almost terrifying. And I know a lot is coming. This is far from over. There’s a feeling in the air—like there’s something just over the horizon that’s going to change life as we know it.
