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Of course he did, I think as I pet Gerald’s hard shell, my eyes on the waving trees outside. The sky is green, turning from a sickly yellow to something deep jade. I don’t know what that means here on Erethar. On Earth, I’d assume there was a tornado on the way, but here…I have no idea.

I inhale and feel the air in my lungs, metallic and sharp.

In the distance, I see the clouds pulsing, flickering on and off like a lightbulb. Beneath my feet, I feel the faint rumble of something deep and raw.

I hold my breath, my eyes taking in the horizon.

If this is a storm, then it’s different from the ones on Earth.

I watch it all, my eyes never wavering from the oncoming clouds, the way they move closer and closer, visibility becoming thicker with each passing second. I think I’m safe here.

Right?

Eissa wouldn’t leave me here to fend for myself if these storms were dangerous. But not knowing, not having any idea what to expect leaves me breathless.

He prods the outskirts of my mind, a small, cautious knock.

I let him in, just for a moment. Because I’m scared. Because I have no idea what is going to happen when it passes over me.

What’s wrong, my Luca?

I let him see it, the storm nearing me with each passing breath. I feel the rumble from his chest, almost vibrating within me. It makes me feel safe, like a cat purring against me.

But he’s not here, and all I have is the lumbering kradun with its antenna-like eyes swiveling this way and that before ambling off to rearrange more furniture.

It is safe. Do not worry. I would not leave you alone if it were not.

I don’t feel safe. I feel alone and afraid, but I can’t let him see that, so I shut him out, creating a barrier between us.

Gerald moves one of the chairs into the kitchen, and my gaze follows him before turning out to the green clouds growing nearer when suddenly the door swings open, and I see a familiar face appear. Bright blue hair, wind-swept and wild, long pierced ears, and eyes that are far too sinister to truly trust.

Jyrion.

‘You are here,’ he signs and then steps into the small foyer, his tunic billowing out as the wind sweeps by. His eyes take me in for just a moment, something in those rainbow orbs before he blinks and it’s gone.

My jaw tightens, and I lift my chin. He was kind to me the first time I saw him here, surprising me with his knowledge of ASL. He doesn’t seem like the type to embrace anything that’s human. The way he ensured the Vyastil humiliated their companions made that obvious.

But when he’s on his own like this, he seems…different. I don’t trust him, but I’m curious enough to play along.

‘I’m sorry for just appearing,’ he goes on when I offer him nothing. ‘I was on my way to see a friend, but the storm caught up with me. I have nowhere to take shelter. I did not think anyone would be around.’

The words he’s chosen in ASL aren’t quite right, but I understand what he’s trying to convey. I stand up and close the door against the wind that is trying to keep it open.

He swipes at his forehead and offers me a slight bow.

‘Of course, come in.’ My signs more formal than usual. He is a prince, after all. Just then, the house shakes, and my gaze is drawn outside once more, to the strange-looking clouds. ‘Are those dangerous?’

His eyes follow my finger, and he says, ‘They are called cyrathis. They are needed to replenish the water we have underground. They are not dangerous, but the storms can be violent.’

‘Why the clouds green?’ I ask.

He cocks his head, and I see his ears flutter. He turns to watch the swirling clouds approach, his shoulder brushing mine. ‘I do not know how to explain in human terms, but they are green from the…” his longer fingers flutter, and he adds, ‘pollen. It is Erethar’s way of reseeding the planet.’

I don’t understand it, but I nod, feeling my heart rate triple as the clouds pass overhead. The wispy windows grow hazy as the wind whips against them, and bits of green pollen flutter inside.

Jyrion draws me a little closer, his hand wrapping around my arm and tugging me toward the middle of the room. I hold my breath and feel the house shudder and shake—even Gerald stops what he’s doing, his antennae swiveling around as if sensing the possible danger.

For a moment, I think it will last forever. Seconds stretch into minutes, and the longer I am in Jyrion’s arms, the more I feel like I’m betraying Eissa. I begin to stiffen, to try to come up with a reason to let go, but before I can panic, the storm is done, leaving everything still once more.