“I mean, I wanna punch him. Hard. Right in his stupidly perfect jaw.”
Molsi makes an encouraging noise, clearly delighted.
“But also, God, is he sexy. And it’s infuriating.”
Decca outright cackles.
“And I don’t even know if he has an arsehole!”
Dead silence.
“What?” Decca asks, breathless with laughter.
“I’m just saying! I don’t know their anatomy! It’s not exactly polite conversation to ask, is it?”
Molsi wheezes. “Hey, Kael, do you shit?”
I groan. “Shut up.” But I’m not done. Oh no. I keep talking. “I bet he has a giant cock. It’s always the broody ones.”
Molsi is barely holding it together.
“Like, he could probably fuck me sideways with a smile. I’d come for days.”
More silence.
I pause. Molsi and Decca are suspiciously quiet. Too quiet. A terrible feeling creeps up my spine.
Slowly, like a man who knows he’s just walked into his own grave, I turn around. And there, standing with all the grace and amusement of a predator who has just caught his prey doing something deeply humiliating?—
Kael.
Fuck.
I want to die. Just right here, on the floor. Let the luminescent veins in the stone swallow me whole.
Kael, to his credit, doesn’t look angry. If anything, he looks entertained, which is almost worse. “I came for food,” he says smoothly. “Didn’t expect a full performance, though. Do continue.”
I open my mouth. Then close it. Then open it again. Nothing. Why is he even here?Howis he even in the main community? And when the hell did he start speaking so casually and inappropriately? Fuck, am I rubbing off on him?
Kael tilts his head. “Oh, don’t stop on my account. I was particularly interested in the part where you were determining my… anatomy.”
Molsi makes a strangled sound that might be laughter but is probably their soul leaving their body in second-hand embarrassment for me.
I am going to set myself on fire. That is the only way out of this.
Decca, ever the traitor, smirks. “Well, Sonny? Got anything to add?”
I clutch the pack of food to my chest like it’s my only lifeline. “Nope.”
Kael’s lips twitch. “Pity.”
And then, as if this couldn’t get worse, he leans in—just slightly—and murmurs, “For what it’s worth, you were right about one thing.” He takes the second pack of food, throws it over his shoulder, and walks off.
I stare after him.
Molsi sucks in a breath. “Sonny.”
I shake my head violently. “No,” I say, voice hoarse.
