Page 29 of Monsters in Love: Lost in the Stars

Margot

Wedding day

The rest of the week goes by in a flash and, mercifully, without incident. I haven’t slept for more than three hours each night, but I’ve been through worse. Much worse. And besides, there’s nothing a few cups of oozoo berry extract coffee and my new holoweave filters can’t fix.

Kallista—sorry, Emily—insisted I “stretch my legs” for a few minutes and take a walk around the block.Zeno is one of Emily and Xavian’s favorite planets, a veritable tropical paradise that’s never even seen frost. Apparently, they had some special moment on the beach, so having their wedding here was important to them. But thanks to the assassination attempt a week ago, we’ve had to move the wedding indoors for safety. Luckily, the hotel was accommodating, but I know Emily’s disappointed she can’t get married barefoot in the pristine white sand. At least she’ll be safe with the hotel’s security detail crawling every inch of the place.

Pap bots whiz by as I head down the busy street, past the throngs of fans who have gathered days in advance to drop off flowers, candy baskets, and other gifts. Normally, I’d be the one going through all those gifts. But Emily forced me to take a breather, so now I’m letting the hotel staff handle them.

A few folks from HA HA Entertainment—may their pillows always be warm on both sides—are here, clicking away on their holodecks to take pictures of anything and everything. I roll my eyes as one of the paparazzi bottom feeders, a baby-faced Lunan man, knocks into my shoulder. He doesn’t even bother to mutter an apology as he races for the hotel’s entrance, his camera app clicking away.

I find a bench under a swaying palm tree and park myself on it, then pull out the sandwich I made earlier when no one was paying attention to me. I miss moments like these, where I could eat a sandwich I assembled myself and not worry about anyone judging me.

My red lipstick immediately marks up the white, spongy bread of my PB&J, but I don’t care. I eat that, too, and quickly. Within moments, my snack is gone, and my stomach is full and happy.

Perhaps I should call Aiken and apologize for throwing my shoe at his face. The mark between his brows looked swollen and red when he left, and he didn’t deserve to be assaulted. Especially not after saving our lives.

I’m about to head back inside when my holodeck chirps on my wrist. I press a button, and Aiken’s stoic face appears in front of me.

“Hi, Aiken,” I blurt out before he has a chance to growl at me. The red mark is still there and looking as painful as ever. I wince with regret.

“Margot,” he says. “Are you well?”

I blink. “Am I … what? You’re really asking me how I’m doing?”

“What if I did? Would that be so strange?” he grumbles.

Yes. Yes, it would be as strange as if all the oceans on Terra suddenly turned red and the sky rained confetti or something else as ridiculous and stupid.

Aiken sighs. “Yeah. You’re right. It is. But I wanted to make sure you were okay. After … the week you had.”

A blush creeps across my cheeks and makes my décolletage burn. I pinch a spot on my forearm just to make sure I’m not hallucinating thanks to the heat.

“Margot,” he says, his voice like distant thunder, awaking something deep and primal within me. “Are you okay? Answer me, woman. You’re staring off into space.”

I nod silently.

“Good. Stay that way,” he grinds out. “Or else.”

I can’t help myself and ask, “Or else … what?”

His eyes sharpen. “Stay safe and in one piece, or I’ll have to punish you.”

Aiken doesn’t wait for me to answer before ending the call. His face disappears, and suddenly I’m alone again.

I’d normally be relieved for the peace, quiet, and isolation, but my heart aches in my chest something awful. I want to see his face again. Need to see him again. Damn, he sounded serious about punishing me, too. I nibble my lower lip at the thought of him tying me to his bed. Would he even bother with tying me up, or would he use his palm to turn my ass black and blue?

Only six more hours to go until the wedding. I wonder what he’s going to wear? Do Gorcians even wear suits? I’ve only ever seen Aiken in his indestructible bounty hunting uniform. Yes, it looks amazing on him, but a girl’s got to have her fantasies, right? And mine just so happens to involve a well-tailored suit on a grumpy Gorcian bounty hunter.

A few hours later, I’m standing in the middle of Emily’s bridal boudoir in full hair and makeup. My stunning black and silver ombre dress moves like a waterfall each time I so much as take a single step, and it glides across the floor behind me like liquid. This dress is perfection, and it must have cost Em a small fortune to put me in it. When I catch a glimpse of myself in the floor length mirror, I gasp. Okay, so the plunging neckline that I swore up and down I didn’t want really does make my breasts look amazing.

Emily steps out from behind the privacy screen in her wedding dress, and before I can react to it, she squeals. “I told you! I knew that dress would look perfect on you. Aiken is going to lose his mind!”

I let out a giggle that doesn’t even sound like me. Great. Who am I? “E-Excuse me? Why would Aiken lose his mind? And why would that even matter to me?”

Emily’s mouth narrows into a thin line. “Seriously? You think you two are being sneaky or something?”

I wave a hand dismissively. “We’re not going to discuss my love life today, or lack of it, sweetie. You look…”

My eyes flick up and down, taking in every inch of her in her wedding dress. The fabric is form-fitting and clings to her curves with a metallic rose sheen. Bioluminescent threads peak through the sheer sleeves and hem of her dress, pulsating delicately against the shadows of the room, and around her neck are layers of diamonds dripping down her throat like tears. The Handmaiden 2XT emerges from behind the privacy screen and bows at the waist.

“Is it to your liking?” the bot asks in a tinny monotone.

“Is it too much?” Emily asks, and fusses with the ends of her sleeves.

I take a step forward to clasp her hands in mine. “You look perfect. Now, if we’re talking about men losing their minds … I think Xavian is going to have a heart attack when he sees you.”

The robot buzzes irritably behind us. “Is it to your LiKiNg?” it asks again.

Emily blushes and turns to face it. “Yes. It’s great. Thank you. Uh, service concluded?” She casts me a wary gaze. “Is that what I’m supposed to say?”

I shrug. “New tech. No idea.”

The Handmaiden bows at the waist again before shuffling out of the room. Okay, not sure I like the new robots the hotel purchased, but at least it allowed me and Em to have much-needed girl time. I was also told that they can provide another layer of security, as they’re equipped with plasma pistols in their hands. Creepy, but I told myself the extra protection was necessary.

Emily smiles and squeezes my hands. “Are you going to be using a weave for your makeup? Should I? My stylist suggested I try out some of the new filters that came out last month for wedding season.”

I shake my head. “I think I’ll wear my own face today. But…” I brush a strand of hair away from her face. “You should do what feels right to you. It’s your day, and Xavian’s. If you want to wear a weave, wear one. If you don’t, then don’t. It’s your call, always.”

“It’s just so strange,” she murmurs, and I lift a brow. “How he’s the more famous one now.”

I tilt my head back to laugh. “True. But your star is still shining. You may have retired, but you hold legendary pop status, now.”

I turn to gather up my makeup bag and hairbrush when Em squeezes my hand again. “Wait. What about you, though?”

Blinking, I turn back and smile softly. “What about me?”

“What are your plans? For the future? Because you don’t have any other clients, and I’m pretty sure that was always your goal, right? To start your own company?”

Every muscle in my body tenses. Why on Terra does she insist on talking about me, my future, and my feelings on the biggest day of her life? I’ve never met a bride who wasn’t incessantly yammering on about everything from the decor to their dress to the annoying guests who had to be invited. Anything to alleviate the pre-nuptial jitters.

“It doesn’t matter right now,” I say, my brow furrowing. “We can talk more about my future later. Today is about you.”

Emily sighs but releases her grip on my arm. “Okay. But … talking about you keeps my mind off everything else.”

A smirk spreads across my face, and I rummage through my makeup bag to take out my favorite tube of red lipstick. Old reliable. “Sit down next to me at the vanity and I’ll give you the tea on how your favorite arch-nemesis is doing in prison.”

Emily flies to the stool in front of the vanity, nearly knocking down a bottle of hairspray. I grin at her as she puts her hands in her lap and stares up at me, wide eyed, like a child in school eager to earn a sticker.

“That’s what I thought,” I purr, then sit down next to her. “A little birdy told me all about how our friend Lacie is doing…”

Pap bots whizz past hotel staff, and I’m nearly bludgeoned in the head by one of the ghastly machines as I stroll past the linen-clad table. I pick up a mushroom-teriyaki bao bun and nibble on it. It’s from that little Asian shop on Latrixia that Emily and Xavian apparently adore. Everything about their wedding holds special significance to their relationship, right down to the coffee cup wedding favors. No idea what that’s about, and Emily is nowhere in sight to ask.

The harpist strums tunes from Kallista’s most popular album as the guests chat amongst themselves throughout the ballroom. Everything is going to plan, despite the last-minute venue change. Good. Now, to make sure it stays that way. I know Emily would say I’m being too high-strung about all of this, but it’s the most important day of her life, and I have years of shitty behavior to make up for. This is the least I can do.

Or so I tell myself, anyway. As I lean against the white linens of the table, my mind starts to wander. The harpist switches to one of Kallista’s more upbeat tunes, “We Own the Stars,” and I find myself humming along while the guests dance.

I really was a total bitch back then, wasn’t I? I crinkle my nose. Maybe I still am? Maybe that’s all I’ll ever be. Just a mean, bitter woman who never finds any satisfaction in life. Doomed to be an unmarried spinster without even a cat to keep me company. Little snake, as Aiken calls me. Fitting, I suppose.

A young waiter walks past holding a tray of wine glasses, and I snatch one before he can disappear. I lift the merlot to my lips and savor the sting of the alcohol as it slides down my throat.

“Who pissed in your wine glass now?” Aiken’s gruff voice interrupts my self-flagellation.

I pause with the glass to my lips and take in the sight of him. He’s clad in a crisp gray suit that brings out the flecks of charcoal in his eyes. He comes to stand beside me as he swirls his own wine glass. My eyes flick up and down his muscular frame, and I find myself blushing like a prepubescent schoolgirl who spotted her crush from across the room.

“No one,” I say, and lower my glass.

His eyes narrow on mine, then rake up and down my body in a similar fashion. He lets out a soft grunt. Of approval? Disapproval? Who even knows with him. Doesn’t matter, because the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end anyway. He commands my body in such strange and surprising ways.

“Your face says otherwise,” Aiken grumbles, but his shoulders relax as he shuffles closer to me.

I don’t inch away, even though my body wants to, because being this close to the brute makes me want to do unholy, indecent things to him. My heart and brain want to climb him like the mountain that he is, but there’s that part of me, the old part, that says being seen with someone like him would destroy my career and reputation.

I shrug but say nothing as I take another sip of my wine and pretend to focus on the guests enjoying themselves on the dance floor. Maybe he’ll go away if I ignore him for long enough. But after a minute passes between us with neither of us saying a word, I give up on the notion that silence will make him uncomfortable. I should have known better. Aiken thrives on stillness.

“Stoic as ever, I see,” I finally say, and glance at him for a fleeting moment. Long enough to see the hazy lust in his dark eyes as he rakes them up and down my body once more. My inner thighs twitch again, and my sex awakens as though on command with a single look. “How are you enjoying it?” I ask, but my voice is too high-pitched, and it makes me cringe internally.

Aiken, to his credit, doesn’t acknowledge my strange behavior. “It’s nice, I suppose,” he says, and extends his glass to clink against mine. Cheers? “But it’s no Gorcian mating ceremony, that’s for sure.”

I let out a derisive snort. “And what, pray tell, do they do at those, I wonder?”

“Fuck, mostly,” he says without any preamble. “Gorcian parties are orgies. Because of our low birth rates, we have to take every chance we can get to procreate.”

I choke on my wine and spit the merlot back into the glass. “I … I beg your pardon? Orgies? At a wedding?”

He shrugs again. “We don’t really do weddings in the same sense you people do. They’re called mating ceremonies for a reason. But most of us take as many partners as possible during our fertile years.”

My heart clenches. Why does that thought bother me so much? I can’t be jealous. I know about his proclivities for brothels, after all, and have never batted an eyelash before. So why am I suddenly feeling so possessive, now?

“You must be pretty popular with the ladies, then,” I say, trying to keep the distaste out of my tone.

His dark yellow eyes find mine again, and he smirks—actually smirks!—at me. I didn’t think that was even possible. “Not exactly. As you can see, I’m not a part of Gorcian society. Though … yes, I do enjoy a romp at the Cosmic Wink from time to time.”

Fine. I’ll take the bait. My brow knits when I ask, “Why aren’t you a part of Gorcian society, then?”

Aiken lets out a low, rumbling laugh that sends a thrill straight to my clit.“Because I don’t want to have a million babies. I don’t want any young, in fact. And because I have unique tastes in women,” he says as he towers over me. He’s looming again, but this time, I don’t mind. He doesn’t intimidate me, nor do I think that’s what he’s even going for. “What about you, little snake? Any babies in your future?”

I let out a snort. “Fuck, no. I can barely take care of myself. Besides … I was an only child. Can’t say I enjoyed kids even when I was one.”

Aiken lets out a thick, rumbling laugh, and my throat hitches at the sound.

I lick my lips and ask, “What are your tastes, then?”

He lifts his hand and slides a bare, dark claw underneath my chin to lift my face. My cheeks burn as he forces me to look into his eyes. Don’t look away, Margot. Don’t look away. He’ll see it as weakness if you do, and you’re not weak. You’re not some simpering, sad little animal. You’re a lioness. Predator, not prey. So act like it.

A smile creeps across his strange, handsome features. “Funny you should ask that.”

“Is it?” I lick my lips again. His eyes move to them and linger there.

We both know what’s coming next. He leans down, and I’m ready for him even though this is the worst possible place to kiss someone for the first time, especially someone I’m not supposed to be seen with. I’m vaguely aware of the pap bots that are whizzing around us now, and normally I’d swat them away or scold them … but I’m frozen in this moment with Aiken as his lips come closer to mine. My heart rams against my bones and then?—

“May I have your attention please?” a man at the front of the room says into the microphone.

Aiken’s face, a mere inch from mine, turns to look at the man responsible for the interruption. He looses a frustrated growl, and honestly? Same. I look at the man, who is dressed to the nines in his black suit and tie, and recognize him immediately as one of the staff members who runs the hotel.

Shit. That time already? We barely had time for appetizers and dancing.

“The ceremony will begin shortly. Staff members will show you to your seats in the other room. Once the ceremony is finished, we will all be seated in the grand dining hall for dinner and other refreshments, followed by more dancing. Thank you!” He gives the crowd a wave before heading for the doors.

When I look back up at Aiken, I can see his mind is already elsewhere. The moment is lost, possibly forever, and my heart falls into the pit of my stomach. The disappointment—and the relief—confuses me, but manager Margot is front and center once more. No time to linger on what-ifs and could-have-beens.

“I guess it’s time, then,” Aiken mutters.

I nod. “Yes. I need to go make sure everything?—”

But he’s already walking away, heading to the banquet hall’s doors. I watch him as he departs without a glance back to check if I’m following.

What the hell just happened?

Okay, so I was feeling disappointed we missed our chance … but now?

Now I’m just pissed off.