Chapter twenty-eight
Just a House
Dex
Dazedandconfused,Dexstruggled to gather his scattered wits as Cya’s face went ashy pale. They lowered in the pool until water lapped at their chin, arms covering their bare chest as they stared at the older female Sypent. Cya didn’t look much like their mom; she was paler and shorter than them with muted brown scales and dark hair.
Shards from a vase littered the ground at her feet—er, tail—as she gawked at Cya, then at Dex. He waited for Cya to say something. Then he waited for their mom to speak. When neither of them did, he hesitantly lifted a hand and waved.
“Uh, hey, Mrs. Vysov. I’m Dex, Cya’s boyfriend.”
At the wordboyfriend, the woman covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a cry of dismay. Cya flinched, lowering their eyes when their mother turned to them, as if begging them to deny Dex’s claim. For a split second, he feared they would.
Judging from their brief glance his way, Cya must have thought the same thing. Maybe they even contemplated it. Dex would never know becausetheir mother’s tail swept in an arc across the patio, sending the pieces of porcelain flying in all directions, and Cya jerked their gaze back to her.
“Mother—” they started.
“What is this?” she interrupted, waving a wild hand at them both. “What have you done, Cylene? What in the deities have you done?”
They ducked their head, shoulders curling forward, like they were trying to shrivel into nothing. Dex reached for them, but they flinched away.
“Keep your filthy paws off her!” Cya’s mom hissed, and Dex stepped back in shock. “Róbyr! You must—ah, gods, Róbyr, I need you. There’s a—and he’s—and your daughter! He’s assaulting your daughter.”
“Mother!” Cya barked as Dex said, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up! The sex has always been consensual.”
“Dex!” Cya screeched as their mom shrieked in horror.
He inhaled through clenched teeth, grimacing in apology. “Sorry, not helping.”
Another shrill keen pierced the air as Cya’s mother slapped her hands on either side of her face. “What did I ever do to deserve such a senseless floozy for a daughter!”
Anger stirred in Dex’s chest as Cya winced, though they fought to hide it behind the icy mask he hadn’t seen them wear for months. “Mother, please, you’re being ridiculous.”
“Where are your clothes? Have you no shame, traipsing around like a common Lust whore?” She turned back to shout into the house. “Róbyr, for deities’ sake, get out here!”
Ashamed, Cya tightened their arms across their chest to hide their breasts, even as Dex moved to shield them from their mom’s judgment. He cupped their face, ignoring their instinctual recoil, and drew them close. At first, they resisted, then they curled into him, taking refuge in his body.
“I’m sorry,” they whimpered into his throat, and their voice was so small it made his heart hurt. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t have to be sorry,” he said as he cradled the back of their head.
An exasperated male voice spoke, turning Cya to stone. “Good gods, Cadynce! What in the deities are you carrying on about?”
Meeting Cya’s dad with his literal pants down was not how Dex wanted to make a first impression, but here they were. He half-turned, ensuring he was still covering Cya’s nudity, and audibly gulped under the piercing golden stare of their father. And he was definitely their father.
In all the ways Cya differed from their mom, they resembled their dad. The same bronze skin, green scales, and dark, emerald hair. Even the cold way he held his face and the haughty tilt to his chin. If he’d possessed any softness to his features—and been thirty years younger—he could have been Cya’s twin.
But there was no softness in him, no give, no warmth. Cya was shaped out of fragile ice, but this man had been sculpted from stone. Dex wanted to tuck his tail between his legs and bare his throat in deference. He didn’t, but it was a close thing.
Cya’s mother had been prattling on, a high-pitched whining that grated on Dex’s ears, but she must have been speaking Pentish because he couldn’t understand her hissed words. Cya’s father didn’t seem to be listening, but her yammering must have been grating on him as well because he held up a hand to silence her.
“What is this?” he asked, voice dropping several degrees as his eyes narrowed on Dex, then Dex’s hands on Cya’s shoulders, then Cya themself, still way too naked. His expression didn’t change, but his head tilted thetiniest bit. It made Cya’s breath catch, their fingers trembling against Dex’s chest.
“F-Father,” they choked out.
“You stupid girl,” he said, and both Cya and Dex flinched at the quiet cruelty.
It would have hurt less if he’d shouted. Judging from the satisfaction creasing the skin around his eyes as Cya shriveled, the calm coldness was a calculated blow.
