He bristles, his shoulders squaring. “I am the commander of armies. I am not cute nor am I pretty.”
Gia cocks her head as Everest bites back a laugh. “I dunno. Youaredefinitely pretty.”
Everest can contain it no longer. He is like the popping orb, his laugh loud and sudden. Rathyn glances down at him, his tail possessively wrapped around his thigh.
“Do not laugh, my Everest. They mock me.”
“I mean, you are very pretty. All that velvet skin….” He bites his bottom lip, and his eyes trail down to the slip of fabric covering his groin.
Rathyn growls and leans down, nuzzling Everest’s neck.
I feel the same urge to do this to Dante, but we are not bonded. Not in the way that Everest and Rathyn are. Something inside of me twists, almost painfully.
I am jealous.
I turn my gaze away and seek out Dante. He is sitting next to his mom on the couch, long spears moving quickly between her fingers, something forming in her lap. Are those my socks?
I move away from Rathyn and Everest and their affectionate display, and step toward Dante. But before I can reach him, someone stops me.
I stare down at an older woman. Not Dante’s mother, but someone older. I can see the wrinkles of age on her skin. She is a wise one, I assume.
“You’re tall,” she says, her voice husky, low-pitched, and accented much like Dante’s parents. She is wearing a floral garment much like what I am wearing, and I can’t help but reach out and touch it. It is soft under my fingers. She does not seem to mind that I am near her. She is not afraid.
What is more impressive is her hair. It is sturdy on top of her head. I can’t help but poke at it. It does not move. It is mighty. Much like the irons I lift with Brody at the gym.
“Amara has some grappa hidden in here. She doesn’t want me drinking it, but she always buys the best stuff. I found it, and I want you to get it for me.” She reaches into her purse and pullsout a green piece of paper. I know what this is. Human money for purchases.
She holds it out to me, and I take the paper. No one has ever offered me such a thing before. I feel special.
“This way.” She strides toward the small hallway, and I follow, unable to say no to such a fierce and wise creature. Amara and Gia’s place is much like Dante’s, only everything is flipped. We move into a bedroom, and I see a large bed, much larger than Dante’s.
The wise human stops in front of the closet and points her finger up. “There.” She stares at me. “Get it. Please.”
I reach forward and do as she says, unable to say no. When she has the grappa in her arms, she opens the top.
“You want a swig?” she asks, putting it to her mouth and drinking from it.
I am loath to say no, so I take it from her and pour some into my mouth. It is strong and not delicious, and it goes down like lightning. It is like drinking fire. My respect for the iron-haired, wise elder soars.
She obviously enjoys drinking this.
She is stronger than I thought.
Taking the bottle from me, she takes another sip and then hands it back to me. I drink it again.
And again. The two of us are communing like old friends.
She is laughing, and I am as well, a high-pitched trill that makes her giggle.
I quite enjoy the sound of it. It reminds me of Dante and Everest when they are happy.
My entire body grows warm, and I find that my legs are far too big for my feet.
The entire room spins, and I now see double.
I sit down on the blue and green bed, the scent not right, but the firmness is just what I enjoy. It reminds me of home, of thesoft xinhar that I slept in on Erethar. It curls around my body, and I feel warm. Cocooned. Happy.
I am safe, and Dante is near.
