(Dorian's Perspective)
As Carlos storms off the lanai, I stretch into his lounger beside Sean.
"That guy's bad news, Dorian," Sean says mildly. "Where'd you meet him?"
"Juvie." I lace my fingers behind my head and lay back, enjoying the sun. "He's fine. I keep him out of trouble." For a long moment, the two of us are silent and the calls of the sea birds and the roar of the ocean fills in the gap around us.
Then a question pops into my head. "Do Fae have heats? Or—I don't know how it's phrased—go into heat? You know—like she-wolves?"
"They do. Or at least I think they do. Sandy never has—she has menses— but by comparison to the others, she's young. Darby has heats though. Fae cycle more like a human—but their heat is less fierce and rarer, rather than monthly like human females or a consistent, few times each year like the she-wolves," he replies. "Ian thinks Darby's heats—when she's most receptive and fertile—are triggered by stress."
