Page 8

“She’s waking up,” someone whispered.

Aurora winced, her temples throbbing. Where am I? Through her squinted lids, she could sense it was bright. Too many midnight margaritas again? She kneaded her fingers against her forehead.

All at once, her dash through the forest blazed inside her mind. She’d been caught by…that demon. A vision of the man emerged—blood-spattered, red-eyed, and looming. Her eyes flashed open, and the pounding in her head turned into hammering, so she closed them again.

She felt along the bedding, trying to make out her surroundings, and gasped when curved walls closing her in met her fingers. The coffin tube. Panic set in.

She surged forward, struggling to get out, but her head pulsed so fiercely she nearly vomited.

“Whoa.”

Aurora froze at the sound and opened her eyes a sliver. There were people around, but she could only sense them through her cloudy vision.

“Hang on there, girlie.”

Girlie? Aurora squinted through one eye in the voice’s direction. Did demons use the word girlie ?

A wave of relief washed over her when the vague shape she spotted sharpened. The figure was neither red nor horned. A human?

Still clutching her head, she choked out a relieved “Hi.”

The woman seemed to understand the emotion behind her whimpered greeting. “Hi to you too.” She came more into focus, and Aurora recognized her as the human she’d spotted at the Promenade earlier. With a smile, she stretched a plastic tube toward Aurora. “Take some oxygen. The doc said the worst of your symptoms would be treated but you’d still feel like shit for a little bit while your meds do their job. I’m paraphrasing, of course.”

“Huh?” she managed past her thick tongue.

The woman extended the tube further toward her. “You have altitude sickness.”

That would explain her headache. Aurora reached for the tube and breathed in through the mouthpiece.

When the pounding lessened and her vision cleared, she opened both eyes and noticed another woman peering at her from the foot of her tube. A second human. Three counting her. “Not just altitude sickness,” the woman commented softly. “They said your brain was swollen.”

“Diana,” the ginger woman hissed. “Maybe give her five minutes before scaring the shit out of her, huh?” She turned back to Aurora. “Don’t worry. This pod thing healed it all.”

Diana pursed her lips and muttered, “She should be scared. Look where we are.”

Aurora took in one more deep breath before lowering the oxygen tube. “So…are we… Is it true?” she rasped. “Is this another planet like they said?”

“Seems so,” she answered with a pained smile. “Diana and I—I’m Maggie, by the way—have been going over every detail for days, and it’s the only explanation that fits. They might be heartless twats, but I don’t think they’re liars.”

Diana moved to stand beside Maggie, tracing her finger along the glass as she walked. “They don’t care enough to go to the trouble of lying.”

“Wait.” Aurora glanced between them. “How long have you been together?”

They eyed each other, considering. “What? About a week, would you say?”

Diana shrugged. “About that.” A flash of something haunted passed behind her dark brown eyes. “It was hard to keep track early on.” She tipped her head to the side. “We didn’t even know you existed. Where were they keeping you? In town?”

A week?

Aurora felt like she’d been slapped. These two had been allowed to see and speak to each other for a whole week? Tears blurred her vision.

“Shit. Oh no. What’s wrong? What’d they do?” Maggie crowed.

Aurora shoved the heels of her palms into her eyes and tried to hold the tears back the way she had been for the last few days.

Somehow understanding, Maggie grabbed her hands. “Don’t let those stuck-up, emotionally constipated fuckers keep you from crying. You’re allowed to cry. This is a full-on-sobbing, breakdown-worthy situation.”

Aurora blinked, then smiled, no longer feeling quite so fragile. The mere permission to cry was so comforting and validating, it’d stopped her tears in their tracks.

“They only woke me up two days ago.” She sniffed. “I didn’t know you guys existed either. Not until I saw you on that platform, Maggie.”

The jaws of both women slackened.

“Two days ago?” Maggie repeated in outrage. “Why?”

Aurora shrugged. “They didn’t tell me why. They didn’t tell me much of anything.”

Diana grimaced. “Did you cry a lot?”

“What? You’re accusing her like it’s her fault,” Maggie snapped.

“I’m not saying it’s her fault,” Diana threw back. “I’m just saying if she cried a lot, then that explains it. They hate it when we cried, remember? Refused to talk to us until we stopped like they were Ferberizing a damn baby.”

“Yeah, that’s what happened.” Aurora nodded and pointed at Diana. “I couldn’t help it.”

Maggie slapped a hand on the glass, making her flinch. “Well, no shit. You only woke up two days ago. What did they expect? Neither of us could keep it together the first few days.”

“What else do you remember?” Diana pressed.

Aurora described her experience to the two fuming women. Each word tumbled out of her mouth faster than the one before. The relief of expelling everything she’d bottled up to people who didn’t make her feel small for being upset was so cathartic that by the time she was done, she felt tethered to herself again.

She wasn’t alone. She had allies.

When her headache was all but gone, they helped her out of the tube she’d been placed in. It turned her stomach to see someone had changed her clothes again. The dress was pale yellow and green with little floral accents trailing down the sleeves and running over the tight bodice. It was something a medieval maiden might’ve worn. She wanted to rip it off. The soft fabric only reminded her of the violation.

Both Maggie and Diana were wearing dresses of a similar style. “These clothes are…something.” Aurora swung her hips back and forth, making her skirt swish.

“Yeah.” Maggie chuckled and peered down at herself. “If this situation wasn’t so fucked, I’d be stoked. I look like a damn princess.”

“I hate it,” Diana griped. “I’m not a doll or a toddler. I can pick my own clothes.” She crossed her arms and sank into a chair in the middle of the room.

Maggie flopped into a chair beside her and grinned at the frowning woman. “What’s your style like anyway? I’m picturing…” She lifted her hands and created a frame around Diana with her forefingers and thumbs. Squinting through one eye, she guessed, “Modern gothic? No. Cape Cod grandmother? No. I got it! Classic Jersey housewife. Tell me, exactly how much animal print do you own?”

Aurora studied the room as they bickered, only now taking notice of the space. It looked nothing like the sterile room she’d been kept in before.

The walls were built with smooth stone in varying natural shades. Draped over the larger flat areas of the walls were royal-blue tapestries. Rugs of the same color covered the floors beneath a massive blown-glass light fixture.

As she settled into a stiff chair across from the other two women, hair lifted on her neck. At a glance, the room and the items within were completely normal, if not a little ancient. But there was something hiding in the details that unsettled her.

Threads in the tapestries pulsed as if electricity ran through them. Her feet sank into the plush rug, but there was no trace of her footprints. Like the fibers were righting themselves as soon as her heal lifted. It was…otherworldly.

“They didn’t say why they waited so long to wake you up?”

Her eyes were riveted to a piece of the glowing glass chandelier as it detached itself from the fixture and floated away. How was that possible? Did furniture just move around on its own here?

Had they asked her something? “What?”

“Do you have any idea why they decided to mind-fuck you by waking you up so close to this bullshit ceremony?” Maggie supplied.

Aurora smiled, thinking about how the high and mighty demons must have reacted to Maggie. She had a sweet face. Round, tanned, and sprinkled with freckles. But she spoke as if she’d never met a swear word she didn’t like. Even with her innocent features, her lack of filter somehow fit her perfectly.

“No idea,” Aurora answered, shaking her head. “I told you everything they told me. They barely talked to me at all. It’s like they have these rules of etiquette but didn’t bother to tell me what they were.”

“Well, you’re right. They do have those rules. Don’t be emotional. Don’t show your teeth when you smile. Make sure both of your hands stay above the table when eating.” Diana counted off on her fingers as she spoke. “They didn’t like it when we didn’t listen to the rules.” She nodded toward Maggie. “They put a muzzle on Maggie ’cause she wouldn’t stop asking questions.”

“I’m sorry.” Maggie threw her hands in the air. “You tell us we’re about to be hunted down by a horde of limp-dick assholes so they can make us their brides, and I’m supposed to not ask any follow-up questions? Give me a fuckin’ break.”

A clammy sweat broke out over Aurora’s skin. She wanted to bury all memories of the chase. But pretending like it had never happened would likely not be an excuse her supposed husband would accept.

“What do you know about this marriage thing?” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper.

The energy in the air shifted, tightened.

“Not much more than you.” Diana picked at her cuticles. “We were told if we made it to the river, no one could claim us. Fat chance of that, though.” She snorted. “One look at those guys and I knew my goose was cooked.”

“Speak for yourself. I nearly made it.” Maggie pointed into the distance with a sideways hand. “I could see the water.” Her hand flopped onto her thigh. “The coward threw a whole-ass net on me.”

“Mine lassoed me around the knees.” Aurora furrowed her brows and peered down at her legs. Oddly, she didn’t feel sore anywhere. Had the pod healed those scrapes and bruises, too?

“Yeah…we saw him. Your husband.” Diana spoke as if she were getting ready to inform Aurora she had a terminal illness.

She glanced between them. Maggie, at least, was attempting to hide her pity. Fear spread like ice over her skin. “When did you see him? And what does that tone mean?”

“After the chase was done, all the men brought the women they nabbed to a celebration area in front of the building we’re in now to show us off.” Maggie’s lip curled as she talked. “But the guy who brought you…”

Silence electrified the air. Aurora’s pulse hammered. “The guy who brought me what?” she snapped.

“It just looked a little scary.” Diana’s words were gentler than before. “The—”

“You were passed out,” Maggie interrupted. “Ghostly pale. Covered in blood. He was bleeding too. Oh, and he was fucking enormous, by the way.” Diana nodded silently as Maggie continued. “Honestly, the way everyone else reacted to him was really what made me more nervous than anything. Right?” She glanced to Diana for backup.

“Yeah,” Diana slowly began, her brows creased in confusion. “That was weird. They acted like he was a pariah or something. The folks behind me were whispering about him, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. The guy who caught me kept trying to talk to me.” Diana rolled her eyes.

“We thought maybe he’d hurt you,” Maggie added. “But then this doctor came to the room all the wives had been brought into and took us here. He explained that you’d passed out because of altitude sickness, then told us to hang out here until you woke up. That was hours and hours ago. I was about ready to find a glass of water to throw on you.”

Aurora wrinkled her nose. “Why did the doctor bring you here ? Did he give a reason?”

“He claimed it would make you more comfortable if we were here when you woke up, but I don’t know. They didn’t seem to give two shits about telling us you existed before.” Maggie’s tone shifted into one of sincerity. “Please believe me, if we knew about you, we wouldn’t have run without you.”

Aurora nodded. “Thank you. I looked for you too, but everything happened so fast once we got down to the forest. I barely had time to think when they told us to run. It was probably for the best anyway.” She shrugged. “I’m a slow runner.”

Maggie laughed, then hiked a thumb at Diana. “Couldn’t be worse than this bitch. She flat-out stopped running five minutes in.”

“Like I said, there was no way I was making it to that river.” Diana crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin defiantly. “They were practically drooling over the idea of a good hunt, so I decided to ruin it for them by not running at all.”

Aurora laughed at that. “What d—”

The door opened. They all shot out of their seats and flocked together.

The horned man who entered eyed the action. “Your husbands will retrieve you in a few minutes.”

“The fuck they will,” Maggie barked.

Aurora froze in place. Should they really be yelling? Especially when the person they were yelling at was a large alien with fangs.

The horned man’s nostrils flared as he took a large, controlled breath and glared at Maggie.

Aurora tried to catch Maggie’s wrist to keep her from stepping closer to the stranger, but she missed. “I already told you. Just because some neanderthal caught me during the most fucked-up game of tag in the universe does not mean I’m going to let myself be dragged back to his cave.”

The man’s gaze shifted to Diana as she joined Maggie. “Let me be clear—we will make the life of any man who tries to call themselves our husbands a. Living. Hell.”

Aurora flinched at the venom Diana injected into her last three words. She, for sure, hadn’t agreed to that. It was a naive thing to promise under the circumstances. She pictured the man who’d hunted her in the forest and shivered. She had no doubt that he could make her life much more hellish than she could ever make his.

Red glowed faintly in the man’s eyes at Diana’s words. “You humans. Rude, hornless, vile creatures. I will never understand the appeal.”

The sneer on his face scratched at her insides like nails on a chalkboard. Diana must have been feeling the same since before Aurora could stop her, she grabbed a decorative trinket from a side table and hurled it at the man’s head. He dodged it easily, and the red in his eyes gleamed.

“You think your brutish little show of aggression means anything?” He stalked forward a foot. “Humans have genetics we need , but don’t for a second imagine that anyone wants Class Four trash like you here.”

A fire inside Aurora blazed at the disgusting drivel spilling out of this demon’s mouth. The words were so full of hate they infected her with hatred too.

His lip curled, exposing fang. “You are non- people.”

Where the fuck did this alien get off? It wasn’t as if they’d asked to be here. Diana and Maggie all but hissed at him, and Aurora fisted the backs of their dresses, trying to haul them away from the irate man.

He bent forward the way someone talking to a child might. “Now, let me be clear—I don’t care whether you quietly follow your husbands to your marriage den or are dragged by your hair. You will go.” He straightened, a smug smirk on his lips.

Aurora had never before felt the urge to smack someone so viscerally.

“I will cut the dick off any man who comes near me,” Diana shrieked.

His dismissive gaze scanned her up and down. “I’ll be sure to warn your lucky husband.”

Before any of them could react, the man produced a canister from his pocket and sprayed it in Diana’s face, then Maggie’s. They crumpled, and Aurora collapsed with them while using the grip she still had on their dresses to keep them from falling on their faces.

She flung her arms in front of her to block the man from spraying her too, but no mist hit her skin.

“Do I need to put you out as well, or will you be civil?”

Shaking, Aurora slowly lowered her arms and peered at the demon. Civil?

She glanced at her two new friends, now sprawled around her in a heap of pretty fabric. “Is this civil?” she whispered before she could stop herself.

He dipped his horns like a bull ready to charge.

“Buhmek,” a man called from the doorway, his tone stern. “What are you doing?”

“Gathering the humans, as you requested.” Buhmek straightened, standing with his hands behind his back and his head held high. “They refused to leave. I thought this would be easiest.”

Asshole.

“Perhaps it is their husbands’ place to persuade them and not yours to drug them,” the newcomer chided as he squatted down in front of Diana and Maggie and checked them over before effortlessly scooping them up and depositing them into chairs. “I apologize for Buhmek’s actions.” The man met her gaze. He had the largest horns she’d seen yet, and there was something calming about his steady voice. “I’m Evu. I’ll ensure he’s made to attend a remedial fever-control seminar.”

“What?” Buhmek shouted from behind him.

Aurora’s shoulders lifted to her ears. Buhmek had lowered his head again. The move was unmistakably aggressive.

“Don’t push horns at me, buckling.” The man in front of her whirled around. “I see the flare of fever in your eyes even now. Have you forgotten who you’re speaking to?” Evu was formidable, but not fuming and red-eyed like the other man. He gestured toward Diana aggressively. “One of the humans sustained a bruise to her cheek. I can either report you for injuring a female out of incompetence or you can attend remedial training. Which will it be?”

What was fever? Was it really possible for Buhmek to be punished for bruising Diana? How did that make any sense? Why weren’t the men who’d chased them punished? Though they were gone now, she was positive she’d gotten some bruises.

Aurora didn’t understand anything Evu was saying, but Buhmek did. And he looked scared.

He chuffed quietly as they stared each other down. Finally he lifted his head and, without looking back, stalked out of the room.

Evu let out a weary sigh, then turned and peered down at Aurora. No instinct flooded her. She was frozen by his resigned stare.

“I should see to these two.” His eyes flicked toward Diana and Maggie, then landed back on her. “But I need to deliver you to your husband first. Will you come with me?”

“I—” Her words died inside her throat. He wasn’t asking if she’d go with him. What he was really asking was if she’d go easily. Tears rose. “I don’t want to.” She kept her voice from cracking…barely.

His expression didn’t change apart from a minute twitch of his brows. “I know.” With another deep breath, he shook his head. “It isn’t up to either of us. If I don’t force you, someone else will.”

A tear leaked down her cheek when she tilted her head to study her new friends, but she didn’t sweep it away. She couldn’t leave them here like this.

It’s not like I have a choice.

“They’ll be fine. It’s too soon to rouse them now with the sedative in their system, but I will wake them as soon as I can,” Evu promised.

Aurora didn’t look up at him immediately. She sniffed, gathering her courage.

Before she got up, she wiped her tears away. A nod was all she could manage when their eyes met again. He nodded back, then stepped to the side, silently showing her the way out of the room.

What was awaiting her? Who was awaiting her? Would he be cruel? Aurora couldn’t seem to swallow as she walked through the threshold and followed Evu. Like a lamb being led to slaughter.

Her mind raced as they walked. She scratched the top of her hand until her skin burned.

“Stop that clawing at yourself, or I’ll have to take you to be healed again,” Evu admonished.

Aurora’s hands dropped in a flash.

He released a chuff of mild annoyance. “You weren’t properly prepared for this marriage, so I understand your nervousness, but there’s no need for it. All will be well.”

How was she supposed to believe that? Even if she felt he was telling the truth, it was his truth, not hers. His people also thought forcing crying aliens to be hunted in the woods was normal. Bottom line: His normal was not the same as hers. How was she supposed to believe his definition of “well” was the same as hers?

She clenched her fists to keep herself from scratching and snuck glances at him. If he noticed, he didn’t show it.

“Do you know my new husband?” she whispered as they trudged through the cool stone hall. Her steps were slow and reluctant, but he matched her pace and didn’t try to make her walk faster.

“We aren’t well-acquainted. I know of him.” His jaw stiffened, and she got the sense there was more he could say but didn’t.

She wanted to ask more questions, but this man was already being kinder to her than anyone else had, and she didn’t want to threaten that by annoying him. They walked in silence while she chewed on her lip.

“I met him once when he was a young boy,” the man said quietly. Aurora’s attention snapped toward him. “A bird had flown into his window, and he wanted me to heal the little thing, but I told him there was nothing I could do for it.” The man slowly shook his head. “He was so distraught. Convinced it had been his fault.” He stared ahead of him as though he were looking into the past, then blinked and glanced down at her. “I haven’t interacted with him since then. Until today, that is.”

He stopped walking, and Aurora realized they’d reached a large wooden door.

The story tugged at Aurora’s heartstrings, but she still vibrated with fear. “Why did he think it was his fault?” There was no rule that stated sweet little boys grew into sweet men. She knew better than to believe that.

The man tipped his head to the side. “I can’t say for sure. I have my guesses, but I don’t approve of gossip.”

Aurora nodded, though she was disappointed.

“I will say…” he added, with kindness warming his expression. “I’d forgotten all about the injured bird until I saw him today. The look in his eyes when he brought you to me was… Well, it forced the memory back.”

Did that mean her new husband had some softness in him? Or did it just mean he did bad things, then felt remorse after? She desperately wanted to believe the former, but she’d be a fool not to consider the latter.

“Ready?” Evu asked with one clawed hand on the door.

Aurora inhaled and sent a silent call for strength. “Ready.”