“The payashē did not want me there. They thought the payapis was foolish to let a kanyin in their pashir.”

I did a few mental gymnastics to keep up with the demonic words he was throwing around.

“They would hit me at first. Then I grew taller than them, and they stopped. They did not hate me anymore, because I was useful in small ways.”

“You were? How?”

“I would collect food or watch their young. They are lazy. They made me do work for them.” He exhaled slowly. “Any day, any time, they could kill me if I was trouble. I was always prey, but I was safer with them than alone, so I did what they wanted.”

How nerve-racking would it have been to grow up in a community where anyone could slaughter you at any moment?

“When I was older and stronger, I would go out at night and protect the pashir. I liked that better because I was away from the payashē more. I killed many males who came too close. I was the best at ambush. They never saw me until I struck.

“I was out at night, hunting, when I felt the Dīnen power fill me.” His hands curled into fists. “I ran.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I ran far from the pashir. I never went back. Dīnen are more dangerous, and I did not know if the payashē would kill me if I returned.”

So quickly, in a single night, his life as he’d known it had completely changed for a second time. “What did you do then?”

He pondered the question. “I tried to keep my promise to the payapis. I tried to change something.”

“You changed things for your House,” I realized. “You taught the other Houses to fear Vh’alyir demons.”

“Hnn. She would not think that was enough.” He let his head fall back against the headboard, eyes half lidded. “I tried, but it was imadnul. I made the others fear us, but they still kill. Vh’alyir are weak and too young. They kill us. I kill them. They kill us more. Nothing changes.”

“You tried, though. And—and when you go home, maybe you can do more as Ivaknen than as Dīnen.” I offered an uncertain smile. “There’s no other demon like you, is there? You’re the only male to have been trained by a female.”

“I have never told anyone that I lived with payashē.” He grimaced. “Other males … they would not like it.”

“Why not?”

“All the reasons.” He pushed his heels into the mattress, sitting up a bit more. “Do you think differently of me now?”

“Differently?” I blinked at him. “I … I’m just impressed. That you did all that. It sounds terrifying.”

“Hnn. Lots of times, yes.”

“And living with females. Not what I expected when you talk about them like they’re your worst fear.”

“I know better than most males how strong they are.”

“Powerful,” I corrected. “Not strong, since you said you could hold them d—” Breaking off, I stared at him. “Wait. Did you mean that literally? You’ve actually held a payashē down before?”

He shrugged.

“Why would you do that?” I gasped. “Did you attack one?”

He recoiled slightly. “Attack? No!”

“Then what?”

“She asked.”

My mouth fell open.

He squinched his eyes at me. “Sometimes payashē want to mate when they do not want young. When I was old enough, some payashē of the pashir told me I should give them food.”

Somehow, my jaw dropped even more.

“I knew they would not want young with me, because I am Vh’alyir, but …” He shrugged again.

“But?” My voice came out in a squeak. “But what?”

“You are blushing.”

“Well, yeah!” I blurted. “You just admitted to sleeping your way through an entire commune of females!”

“Sleeping? I do not underst—”

“Mating,” I corrected loudly. “You mated with a bunch of females! I thought you didn’t want children yet!”

“We did not make young.”

“How do you know? Do demons have contraceptives? Any of them could’ve gotten pregnant by accident, and you never went back so—”

“Accident?” He shot me a wide-eyed stare. “Can hh’ainun have young by accident?”

Derailed, I leaned back slightly. “Yes. Are payashē different?”

“We choose when to have young. Many times payashē accept a male to enjoy mating but do not want him to be a sire. Males do not know when a payashē chooses young or no young.”

“So some females chose you to enjoy mating with?”

He sat forward, hands pressed to the mattress between his knees. “Why are you angry?”

Angry? I wasn’t angry. Not at all. I was … not calm. That’s all I could really tell. I was not calm, and also my heart was twisting behind my ribs like an invisible noose had tightened around it.

“When I invited you …” I began haltingly. “With the strawberry … did you accept so we could … enjoy mating?”

When he said nothing, I peeked at him. He looked more confused than ever.

The last of my anger fizzled into pain. Ah. There it was. The truth.

He’d accepted casual invitations in the past—which meant, in his eyes, my invitation had been equally casual. Which would be fine … except it hadn’t been casual to me. When I’d held that strawberry out to him, I’d been baring my heart and soul.

And I was only now realizing how much I’d wanted his acceptance to mean something special too.

Chapter Twenty-One

I pushed off the bed. “I’ll leave you to get some rest.”

“Vayanin?”

I hurried for the door, determined to escape the room so I could nurse my bruised heart in private—and also figure out why I was hurting so badly, because my feelings weren’t making a whole lot of sense.

The mattress creaked as he rolled off it, then his hand caught my arm. He spun me around to face him. The washing machine on the other side of the wall clanked and clattered as his eyes darted across my face.

“What is wrong?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re lying,” he growled, instantly annoyed.

I jerked away from him. “I’m leaving the room now.”

He snatched the sleeve of my sweater, pulling me toward him. “Tell me what is wrong.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I just talked to you about things I have never told anyone.”

“That—that doesn’t mean I have to tell you everything now.”

He bared his teeth angrily. I recoiled, my sweater sleeve pulling taut between us. He yanked me back. I wrenched away, and the sound of a seam tearing shocked me.

Panic fired through my veins. “Let me go!”

He released my sleeve so suddenly I staggered. His dark eyes burned like ice as he inhaled through his nose.

“Fear,” he snapped. “Fear, again. Why are you afraid?”

I stumbled back another step.

“I have not hurt you. I have never hurt you.” His tail lashed, the barbs catching the box spring and ripping through the fabric. “How do I make you not fear me? What am I doing wrong?”