I pull Dante close and lean down to kiss him harder and deeper. “Thank. You,” I say very slowly, measuring the human words with my lips and tongue.
Dante touches my jaw, then traces a touch over my cheek. “Your speech is getting better.”
It is. And I do not know if it is the cum, or him, or the fact that I am feeling more unburdened than ever before, but the changes are noticeable.
‘I still like this,’ I sign.
He grins wider and goes up onto his toes to kiss me. When he pulls back, he signs between us, ‘Same-same.’
Before Dante leaves, he pushes me to my knees, pulls out his cock, and feeds me his cum. For a moment, I think about protesting, but the scent of him and the taste of him are too tempting. I drink him down once more, sucking him dry, as though it’s the only thing I’m capable of doing.
He kisses me again when it’s over, whispering in my ear that he will see me soon. And then he’s gone, and the apartment is quiet.
I don’t like being on my own. It’s lonely. It reminds me of being in the dark, in chains, in agony. The memories of my experience are getting stronger now.
When I first arrived—when Everest pulled me into his lap after I was thrown through the portal—I didn’t remember much. Now, when my eyes close, I relive it, and the pain is overwhelming.
It’s easy to forget when Dante is here, but in these moments on my own, it’s too much.
I only last a few minutes, wandering around the room Dante prepared for me, testing the cushion—then trying and failing to work the Ness machine Dante set up for me. In the end, I put on my coat and leave, locking the door behind me and taking long strides toward the gym.
I do not know if my friends will be there. Or perhaps Quilliyn will be working. But even if I’m alone, the noise is enough to distract me. It makes the ache go away for a little while, and I can keep myself together until I’m with my Dante again.
The weather is warmer today, but the Earth’s air is a little thinner, and it makes drawing breath harder than it is on Erethar. The taste of the wind is not as sweet.
But Earth has so many things Erethar does not.
The trees are different, and the sky is pale. And I have not seen them yet, but I have read that there are vast bodies of water above the surface, crashing on the shore.
Water is not so precious a thing here, and I hope that one day, perhaps Dante will take me to see it all for myself.
For now, the freedom of moving around on my own is enough to keep my spirits up. I enter the gym and immediately spot Quilliyn wiping down one of the rowing machines.
“Cielo!” Quilliyn calls out. He drops the towel he was using to clean and bounds over. His gaze takes me in, a slow up and down like he’s assessing me.
Can he tell what I’ve done?
“You look well.”
I bow my head. “I…am well. Thank you, sire.”
“Cielo,” he warns.
“Forgive me.”
With a small sigh, he leans forward and touches his forehead to mine. It is not a greeting I have ever earned before from a royal, but Quilliyn gives it out so freely, and the comfort is like a human hug.
“Are you here to work out?” he asks.
I bite my lip and shrug. “Yes. I do not know what else to do with myself. Dante works, and I have no means to assist him with money. Humans pay so much to live.”
Even the Outerlanders do not want for basic needs. Not food. Not shelter. Not medicine.
It is cruel to know how some humans suffer for no reason at all.
“Yes. It’s…different,” Quilliyn says. “But Dante seems like he’s doing okay.”
I shrug. “Yes. But he is tired. And often unwell.”
