Chapter 8

Lilith

A sign hanging over the entry named it The Silver Tongue, and fae lights flickered low in the windows as the sun began its slow descent early one evening.

We entered the cozy, modern-looking bar with dark, wood accents and industrial-style decor. Tables and seating were varied sizes for different species, a welcome sight that spoke of thoughtful management and a diverse neighborhood.

"Alistair! Come have a drink. We're celebrating!" A booming voice came from a burly-looking orc behind the bar as he skillfully poured a round of drinks for the customers clustered around the bar top. He towered over everyone except Alistair, who nearly matched him in height, but his hands moved nimbly among the glasses and bottles. His dark green skin was mottled with white patches that had themselves been decorated with some kind of runic tattoos. His slick black hair was pulled back into a tight topknot, and his green eyes peered through dark-rimmed glasses. The overall effect was a cacophony of beautiful monochrome color and texture on a dashing-looking orc.

"We are? What are we celebrating?" Alistair answered curiously as he led me by the hand to the bar top.

"I bought The Silver Tongue!" the big orc crowed, beaming as he raised his massive arms to indicate the bar around him. "I finally get to change the name to The Silver Tusk! Come on, introduce me to your friend." He leaned past the bar to give me a friendly wink, his silver capped tusks clearly visible over the curve of his smile. "What can I get for you, miss? First drink is on the house tonight!"

Congratulations from hollering patrons at the bar nearly drowned out the introductions, but I gathered that the bartender's name was Hyrak and one of the smiling girls seated at the bar top was Solandis, his wife, who also happened to be Alistair's oldest friend. She was sylvan—one of the forest fae—with long, white hair and pale, green skin, and the mother of Miela, the little toddler who'd caused such havoc at Alistair's orchard. She told me that despite their squabbling, Alistair was Miela's favorite babysitter, and she would live forever as a wild thing in his orchard if she were allowed. The sylvan's eyes danced with curiosity and interest as they darted back and forth between me and Alistair while she introduced herself.

"She'll have to stop eating all of my apples if she wants to take up permanent residence in my orchard," he replied amiably.

Next to Solandis was a tall, human-looking, blond woman with braided hair and fair skin named Sidney. "Oh! The one who bought him his workout shirts from the Void!" I remembered aloud.

The blond woman's smile was quick, and her eyes danced with mischief. "Aren't those great?"

Alistair explained that Solandis had grown up down the street from him, and they'd all attended college together. He introduced me to a few other regulars and explained their connections, and I was pleased with how deftly he directed the group's attention back to the normal flow of conversation so that I was no longer the focus. Solandis and Sidney kept me included, which I was grateful for, though they certainly took a somewhat sisterly interest in my relationship to Alistair. I was glad they didn't ask about specifics because I didn't know myself. He'd called tonight a date, but that was just a saying. It wasn't really, of course.

I began to relax as my margarita made its way into my veins, and I listened to the comforting low buzz of Alistair's voice as he spoke with his friends.

He turned down a third refill on his wine and requested a cider instead, which arrived frozen solid. "It's tradition," Hyrak had told him with a smirk, before finally giving in and getting him a new one when the mothman threatened to toss it at his head.

I didn't know how much alcohol it would take to affect someone of Alistair's stature, but I smiled to myself as I realized he was laughing more than usual. Was this Buzzed-Alistair? Or was it just because he was with his friends? It was a hilarious thought. And the way he interacted with his friends was amusing too. He was such a lovely mix of contradicting traits: shy, nervous, confident, flamboyant, smart, loyal, nurturing, persnickety, and gruff. He was always ready with a funny quip, and obviously a well-loved member of their circle of friends. Except maybe by Hyrak. It was hard to tell what the relationship was there. But even though he seemed to enjoy ruffling Alistair's feathers, the big orc couldn't seem to help but smile at some of my mothman's snark.

My mothman? Where had that thought come from?

Although, in retrospect it shouldn't have been such a surprise. I did sometimes wonder what that would look like, for him to be mine, but I'd never let myself go so far as to actually think of it as true. In that moment, daydreams quickly spun themselves one after another—me convincing Alistair to leave with me for New Caelora, introducing him to my best girlfriends and including him in our monthly girls' night out, showing him around to all of my favorite little bistros. But then I tried to picture him in my tiny, contemporary condo. After experiencing the loveliness of his old penthouse, that he had put so much time and careful thought into… the web of daydreams started to unravel a little bit. Where would he grow his beloved apple trees in my concrete and steel jungle?

The vibrations of his rumbling laugh jostled me out of my thoughts, and I tried to anchor myself in it, focusing on enjoying him for who he was right here. His body emanated a comfortable heat next to me, like he was an immense fuzzy blanket right out of the dryer. I found myself leaning closer than necessary whenever he spoke to me, seeking both his warmth and his presence. His feathery fluff was soft, like I would imagine a chinchilla or maybe mink fur to be, and the adorable sparkles he left on my skin every time he brushed against me smelled like comfort and happiness and desire in a way that didn't make sense to me. The shimmering patch of glitter that his gentle fingers left on my thigh every time he sought my attention in the overly loud bar felt like a brand. Like he'd marked me, and I enjoyed the idea a little too much.

I noticed that even though he kept an ear toward his friend's conversations, he had a careful eye trained on me as well. He checked in to make sure I was comfortable, asking if I was hungry or needed anything, quietly explaining the jokes someone cracked if I was missing context to understand them, whispering private observations about the more boisterous patrons across the bar as they teased and antagonized one another. It was the most fun I'd had with anyone in a very long time, and I settled into a happy contentment with him as the evening wore on.

"So, where is Miela this evening?" Sidney asked the orc and his wife when the bar began to quiet down, as she watched him shake me a new margarita.

"Oh, it's a grandma kind of night tonight," Solandis answered cheerfully, glancing over her shoulder as some of the louder customers finally left the bar. "They're baking special cookies and having a slumber party. Toenails will be painted. The whole works."

"Sounds adorable," Sidney responded as she crunched down on a pretzel.

"And who's with your baby?" Hyrak asked Sidney as he poured my drink and slid it in front of me. I cast him a grateful smile before redirecting my attention to the blond woman.

"A dragon is not a baby ," she answered drolly. She shrugged and continued, "He's been more chill about hanging out on our property without me lately, as long as the pigeon stays with him, so they're at home together. Huck's been super cranky and hormonal lately, anyway. He either keeps himself wedged into the back of the cave behind our house and only comes out when I bring him treats, or he's perched on top of our roof, trumpeting his territorial claim to the world. Jordan is convinced he's going to pull the whole house down on us any day now." She spoke like having a dragon with a pigeon friend on her roof was an everyday occurrence for her. As my wide eyes flitted between the rest of their friend group, everyone else nodded like this was expected.

"Poor guy," Hyrak replied as he wiped the countertop in front of her and paused to take a payment from another patron. "Puberty is the worst ," he empathized.

Alistair shrugged and added in a thoughtful tone, "I have no memory of it."

Solandis slapped her hand on the bar top and nearly howled at him in indignation. "Of puberty? That's because you checked out for the entire process! Everyone else was suffering with mood swings and acne, dorking around with their best friends." She turned to address Sidney while gesturing accusingly at Alistair. "Not him! My best friend disappeared into a literal cocoon for six months . He left me all alone!" Her glower was fierce as Sidney gazed at Alistair with wide eyes.

Alistair gave them very little reaction as he slurped up the last drops of his cider with his long, tube-like tongue. "I would apologize, but I'm rather grateful that I wasn't aware of the metamorphosis process," he replied tartly, placing his empty glass into Hyrak's outstretched hand. His prissy tone tugged a smile to my lips.

"Wait, so did your whole body change like a butterfly?" Sidney interjected, staring into the middle-distance like she was trying to picture it.

"Yes!" Solandis answered for him emphatically, slapping her palm on the counter again as she spoke. Her words were a little slurred. "He went in looking like the chubby caterpillar I'd always known and loved and came out looking like a skinny version of this," she said, gesturing vaguely at Alistair's huge, winged form.

He pretended to be affronted by her description, recoiling slightly in mock-outrage. "I wasn't chubby . I needed extra fat stores to sustain me during the—"

"He had the most adorable baby chub. Rolls for days. I made him play dolls with me. He was my only real friend, and I missed him terribly. I was abandoned." A dainty frown eclipsed her pout as her eyes grew distant at the memory. She snapped out of it quickly and slurred, "But I will admit his fluff looks fabulous now that he's grown into it, and the wings are a pretty cool perk."

"And my antennae are very handsome," he added solemnly, lifting one of his upper arms to stroke the gossamer appendage.

"Very handsome," Solandis agreed with a nod before taking a sip of her drink.

"Stop it," Sidney groaned. "I know what you're doing."

"What am I doing?" Solandis asked in an innocent tone.

"You're getting Hyrak all riled up so he'll take you into the broom closet and bang your brains out. Again."

I nearly choked. I glanced at the big orc to find him glaring at Alistair with slightly luminescent green eyes, something I knew to be an orcish tell that his adrenaline levels were rising.

Solandis gasped loudly. "I would never—"

"You would and you do," Sidney stated flatly. "And you know what, it's almost dark, so maybe I want to use the broom closet this time," she added, glancing at her watch.

"Oh! Does that mean Jordan is coming tonight—" Solandis started, but Alistair cut her off.

"Is that why you only compliment my antennae when Hyrak is around?" he very nearly wailed.

I clasped one of his hands, reveling in the velvety softness of his fingers, and told the perturbed mothman, "I think you have beautiful antennae, Alistair." Oh, dear. I was definitely buzzed to have said that out loud.

"Gorgeous," Sidney added with a nod that also might have been slightly drunken. We were all tipsy.

"I do not!" Solandis argued. "I tell you how handsome and fluffy you are all the time, Al."

"I'm gonna jerk his antenna right out of his head," Hyrak grumbled as he thumped the glass he'd just polished onto the counter and removed his wife's half empty beer. He eyed Sidney's drink as well, but she closed her hands around it and gave him a look that dared him to take it.

"You keep your hands off my bestie," Solandis told the big orc. She turned to Alistair with a sly smile. "I only use you for your dashing good looks sometimes , Al."

A deep growl emanated from the bartender.

Alistair countered with an annoyed buzz as his antennae flattened back against his head. "No!" He stood up, pointing at Solandis and then Hyrak. "No, you know what, I'm going to take the broom closet tonight. You can't have it ." His tone was haughty as he lifted me from my seat with one arm. I cast a baffled but amused glance at Alistair's friends as he hauled me away, just in time to find my own startled confusion mirrored in their faces. It was only as I heard a door open that Sidney's cackling laughter pierced the silence. The door swung shut with a click, enveloping us in darkness, and Alistair set me down in front of him while he buzzed irritatedly.

I waited for him to regain his composure, trying and entirely failing to ignore how good he smelled this close—night air and warm musk, so rich I could reach out and touch it—eventually giving in and planting my face in the fluff on his chest and inhaling as deep as I could. Amazing. He was so big. Towering above me like a wall of heat. Soft. I wanted to bathe in his scent. I pressed my face against his sternum and tried to huff him, realizing I'd reacted to his scent whenever I was near him, and it was only getting stronger. "Why do you smell so good?" I asked him dreamily.

"Pheromones," he answered distractedly. "I confess I have no idea what the broom closet is for, other than the obvious."

"The obvious?" I repeated, feeling like the drinks were making me daft.

"For holding brooms," he answered dryly.

I snuffled a laugh into his fluff. "I believe they use it for sex," I explained with a giggle.

" What? " he squawked, causing me to recoil slightly at the pitch. "That is foul! I'm not going to have sex with you in a broom closet . There's a dirty mop right here! " Something clattered to my right, presumably the dirty mop.

"Oh," I responded through my giggles, as if that was a completely reasonable reaction. My brain locked onto the fact that he didn't object to sex with me, just with doing it in a broom closet. "Then what are we going to do?" I asked him.

He grew very still, and I held my breath, biting my lip as I waited for him to answer.

"What—what else—I mean to say, what else can we do?" his voice cracked as he stammered. The wall of him seemed to lean infinitesimally closer.

I grinned up at him in the darkness, feeling like a teenager again, with just enough tequila in my blood to make me bold. "You could kiss me," I suggested breathlessly. Poor Alistair was clearly out of his depth, but this was a predicament of his own making. He was the one who dragged me off to a broom closet like a caveman.

"But it's dirty in here—wait," he gasped. His whole body started to vibrate under my touch, and I felt all four of his hands close gently around my shoulders and upper arms, his talons barely grazing my skin. "You want to kiss me?" he squeaked. "Oh, no. Are you drunk?" His voice dropped, full of suspicion. I couldn't see a thing in the pitch black of the closet, but I could hear the frown in his voice. "You didn't have very much, but you are very small. Too small. What if —"

"I'm not drunk," I lied, cutting him off. I wasn't drunk- drunk . Tipsy at best. I was still in full possession of my faculties. He did smell really good, though. Maybe I was drunk on that. "Are you drunk?" I asked him, a plan forming in my head.

"Of course not!" He sounded offended. "Do you know how much alcohol it would take to make someone like me—"

I reached as high as I could in the darkness and grabbed him by the fluff, pulling him down by his neck and aiming for an approximation of where I thought his mouth would be with my own.