The company portal dropped us off somewhere the sky looked like it'd been filtered through rose-tinted syrup. A pinkish hue stretched across the horizon, soft and glowing—and the air? It tasted like lemonade. Not metaphorically. Literally. I breathed in and it fizzed a little on the back of my tongue like someone carbonated a spring breeze.
Tav, who'd been watching me with that amused, too-pretty face, gestured lazily at the sky. "We're on the pink lemonade planet," he said, like that answered anything.
I squinted at him. "You mean realm?"
He shook his head. "Nah. Planet. I think some mortal got stuck in a dream and accidentally made this place permanent. Happens more often than you'd think."
I stared at him, then back at the cotton-candy skyline. "What the hell is going on."
Kaito actually looked sheepish—his version of an apology. "Sorry. I meant to explain that part back when we were, you know, not running over cosmic furries."
June slapped Tav's chest in that playful way that still somehow looked like a threat. "You ruined the surprise, you big lug. Loretta's a realmer, not a planter. Some of her realm folks know portals like the backs of their hands, but space? Not so much."
Tav gave a slow shrug and flashed a crooked grin. "My bad."
A key—silver, humming, and warm—suddenly blinked into existence in June's palm. She snatched it without hesitation and looped her arm through Tav's like they'd been dating in a previous life.
"Come on, wolfboy. Let's see if this place's minibar stocks meat popsicles."
They disappeared through a corridor of light, off to do gods know what. Probably break laws. Maybe beds. Honestly, I think June's got a thing for werewolves. Do werewolves usually go for slime people? Is it, like, a flavor thing? June once told me she can make herself taste like peanut butter or smoked meat if she drinks the right juice blend. So maybe that's it. Maybe Tav caught a whiff and thought, damn, that's a snack pack.
Another key—sleek, black-metal with glowing runes—appeared in Kaito's hand next, like the universe was just handing him plot devices now. He held it out to me. "Come on. I owe you a crash course in science versus magic."
I raised a brow. "We're doing a lecture now?"
"It'll be fun," he said, in the same voice people use when convincing you to eat cursed carnival food.
According to Kaito, the Sonters use a weird blend of tech and enchantment. "Magic doesn't fix everything," he added, holding open a ripple in the air like it was a beaded curtain. "One time, some idiot tried to curse a group of sailors with scurvy unless they ate lemons every sixth day."
I blinked. "That sounds… oddly specific."
"Exactly. The curser forgot we live in a reality where you can ship lemons. So the cursed group just ordered bulk citrus and went on their way. Curse failed. Dude retired in shame."
I remembered reading something about that. There'd been an article in the Sonter bulletin about how old-world curses were losing their job recommendations because they assumed medieval supply chains. Half of them didn't account for modern grocery stores.
So yeah—Kaito had a point.
I tried to throw him off by bringing up the dryads. "What about them? Don't they hate science-y upgrades?"
Kaito snorted, then took a slow step closer—and before I could question anything, he scooped me up bridal-style like we were in a ridiculous magical romance novel. My arms instinctively flailed, then settled around his neck as he carried me with casual strength, all firm arms and smug expression.
"True dryads—not those fake tree-huggers that sell root water at farmers' markets—welcome the change," he said in an even, almost professor-like tone, like this was all just part of a Sonter orientation video. He didn't even break stride as he carried me toward our room, arms steady and annoyingly warm. "They've helped pioneer a ton of sustainable techniques. New ways to care for land, regrow forests, and develop their own localized economies."
I blinked. "They have... economies?"
I'm learning so much about immortal worlds lately it's kind of ridiculous. That might also explain why dryads were always weirdly welcoming toward my family. Apparently, we got our land fair and square from a dryad group. There was some... weird marriage involved, but it counted.
Wait. Am I related to dryads? Is that why plants don't die around me when they really should?
But what does that have to do with my dream powers? They only ever kick in when I'm near woods or nature. Not in cities, not on rooftops—just places with roots and leaves and dirt that smells like something old.
That's not coincidence. That's ancestral weirdness.
He let out a low whistle, and the key in his hand floated up, sliding itself into the lock with a quiet click. The door swung open on its own.
Kaito carried me over the threshold like we were honeymooners in some alternate timeline, then set me gently on the bed. The door closed behind him with a final-sounding thunk.
"Money literally grows on trees where we're staying right now," he continued in that same calm, informative tone, like a Sonter documentary narrator. "Also, most dryads own the banks."
Then he sat beside me and went deeper, his voice steady, his fingertips brushing along my arm absentmindedly like he was grounding his thoughts in skin contact. I watched him closely—really watched him—because something in the way he spoke now felt different. More assured. More…him. Not just the demon who knew how to flirt or fight—but the one who carried the weight of ecosystems on his shoulders like it was just Tuesday.
"One of our jobs as Sonters is making sure no one creates new types of trees without testing them first," he said. "People try to skip protocol, rush to market, and get sponsored by some random dryad-type family just to make their own currency. Used to cause all kinds of collapses."
He leaned back on one arm, his torso flexing just enough to be distracting. "I remember the Great Depression like it was yesterday. Whole mess started because some weird little lucky creature wasn't supposed to leave its realm. But it got out. It was enjoying the Roaring Twenties—dancing, drinking, throwing off the balance of trade—and we had to take it away. Balance restored."
I didn't realize I was staring until he looked over and caught me. I quickly looked at the floor, then at the bedspread, then back at his mouth. This man was dangerous in too many ways.
He sighed. "Not an easy decision. Unlike Sonsters or that other group that handles serial-killer types, we can only intervene in nature-based events. Helpful or harmful—doesn't matter. If it's growing or dying, it's our business."
Then, without breaking rhythm, he pressed a thumb to a spot on my lower back. Something sparked. I let out a sharp moan.
I smacked his shoulder, laughing. "Stop. You were being serious a second ago."
Kaito started working more pressure points, his thumbs dragging slow heat through my spine. He was on top of me now, body angled just right, weight comforting but dangerous—like he knew I was waiting for a kiss. And damn it, I was.
Right as his breath ghosted over my mouth— Knock knock.
We both froze. Then came the voice: "Uh, hey. Just wondering if I can join this crew officially or whatever."
It was Tav. Shirtless. Of course.
Kaito didn't miss a beat. "Sure," he said flatly, and slammed the door in his face.
I burst out laughing. "No matter the realm or planet," I wheezed, "canines still can't read the room."
Kaito rolled his eyes with a grin and started to shift—his skin darkening, shimmer flickering, limbs lengthening as he slipped into demon form. "Finally," he muttered, rolling his neck with a stretch. "So glad I can let this skin loose."
I cocked my head. "You and June got the same issue with—" I stopped myself. My mouth went dry. Shit. I wasn't about to tell Kaito what June really was. That wasn't mine to share.
He didn't even blink. "I know what June is," he said, voice calm but layered, like a storm cloud just hovering. "That's not important. What matters is I've got one of the realms' best doctors here with me."
I tried to play it cool, making a face like, Oh you mean me? Can't be, but my insides flipped like stage curtains in a windstorm.
"And funny thing," he added, his voice low and suspiciously fond, "you didn't know my biology. Or what kind of demon I really was. And yet that medicine you used on me back in Hollow Eyes?" He leaned in. "It had something… rare in it."
I blinked. I had no idea what he meant. Not really. Except—
Maybe—I thought, just maybe—it's the weird dryad blood. That stuff had always been part of my medical kit—maybe metaphorically, maybe literally—but I never questioned it too hard. I wasn't the first mortal to have strange immortal DNA tangled into her family tree, and I wouldn't be the last. But this felt different.
What if it changed things with Kaito? I kept thinking about all those storybook tropes, the kind I used to roll my eyes at—the mortal girl turns out to be something ancient and powerful, tied by fate to her immortal lover. And sure, it's romantic as hell until she realizes her love is a slow-acting poison. Until her kiss, her blood, her body becomes the weapon that kills him gently.
Was I saving Kaito? Or was I slowly unmaking him?
"What's wrong?" Kaito asked, catching the shift in my silence.
I didn't bother to sugarcoat it. "What if I'm poisoning you?"
He blinked, then let out a low, amused breath. "I checked that already. Back in Hollow Eyes. You're not killing me."
I narrowed my eyes. "How would you even know that?"
"Because I'm getting stronger," he said, matter-of-fact. "Especially when you dance."
That made my stomach flip in a whole new way. Without saying anything, I stood up and crossed the hotel room, turning on the old radio perched on the dresser like some nostalgic afterthought from another realm's idea of ambiance.
A slow, seductive beat poured out. I grinned. "Hey, this was the first song we fucked to. Remember that?"
Kaito leaned back, watching me with dawning interest. I walked back over and eased him down onto the seat.
"I think Mr. Demon needs a show," I murmured.
He reached for my hips. I caught his wrists and guided them gently to his lap. "No, no," I said, voice playful. "No touching."
Just then, the door swung open with no warning.
"It's about incubi," June said casually, as if she hadn't just barged into the foreplay. "Thought you might wanna know."
I groaned. Kaito looked like he was seriously reconsidering his hospitality policy.
June raised a brow. "If y'all gonna stir the realm's energy with sex magic, at least give a girl a heads-up. The vibes are thick."