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At least, I found nothing to do with the portals.

But I did find him.

Luca. His name was whispered in my mind before I saw him. He was a heavy weight across the room, and I had no idea what I was looking for until he came into view. Tall, pale, dark hair, a constellation of freckles over his nose and cheeks.

So beautiful.

So human.

It took me some time to feel the tug in my head—the pulse of his own heartbeat and the rapid-fire images that shot through his mind.

His thoughts, I realized after a moment.

I didn’t understand at first why it felt like shapes were pressing against my fingertips until I understood those were his thoughts.

And his language moved from his hands instead of being spoken on his tongue.

I, of course, know several dialects of signed language. I spent several second-moon cycles preparing for my liaison role by absorbing as many languages as I could, and the signed American language was high on the list.

It was easy—simpler than a lot of spoken languages. It was intuitive in some cases, and when it wasn’t, it was still easy to learn. Speaking with expression and body language is instinctive for Vyastil, and I found it almost a relief when I was able to use it.

But I had no time to enjoy the conversation with him. Not when he was invading my mind. Not when he was branding himself on my soul in a way I could not allow.

There was nothing I could have done to stop it, of course. I wanted him as I wanted nothing ever before. And even after rejecting him and sending him away, he is all I have thought about. When I close my eyes, he is there. When I breathe deeply, his thoughts are probing at mine. He has not stopped trying to climb into my head, and it has taken every single resource I possess to lock him out.

Eventually, I will crack.

It is why I’ve sought the comfort of my home beside the lake. The wide expanse of surface water has the most calming effect, and my little cottage is surrounded by beach and trees with only a narrow, unmaintained road that connects me to town.

For a little while, I can ignore my duties at the Foundry and at the clinic.

For now, I can breathe.

BZZT BZZT!

I jolt as my phone begins to vibrate on the table. It’s a horrific little human device. Allows no space. No peace. Humans are so fixated on being in contact with each other all the time. I do not know how their minds withstand it. The Vyastil have communication tablets we use for messages, but when we are not expected to be working, we are allowed peace.

Earth seems to refuse that small luxury.

Reaching for the buzzing phone, I stare at the screen, and my heart sinks. It’s Everest.

I don’t know that I can deny him anything. Not only is he a good and kind human who has managed to change Rathyn in ways I never thought possible, but he has done so by taking a punishment of humiliation that would have broken lesser men.

And he’s doing it not just for Rathyn, but for our people.

“Hello, Everest,” I say when his face appears on the screen.

He looks frantic. “I need your help.”

My brow furrows. “Are you in trouble? Is Rathyn?”

His breath tumbles out of his chest in a rush. “No, no. It’s Dante.”

I repeat his name in confusion.

“Dante Barducci,” Everest says. “He’s my friend. He owns a sex shop. Cute guy with pink hair?”

Ah, yes. The human who gave Cielo sanctuary. And, if I read his thoughts correctly, Luca’s brother. My hearts fall out of sync for a moment. “Is he injured?”