Page 30 of Monsters in Love: Lost in the Stars

Aiken

Gods fucking dammit.

Of course we’d be interrupted. Why wouldn’t we be? The stars will never align for us, because I’m a Gorcian bounty hunter with a body count longer than the queue for Kallista’s tour tickets. I don’t deserve to be happy. I deserve to rot, because this is the bed I’ve made for myself, and now the universe wants me to lie in it.

I sit down on the bench toward the back of the ceremony hall that’s been specifically sectioned off for aliens who don’t fit in the other seats. Which means Margot is on the opposite side of the room, and I can’t breathe in her delicious, musky scent. Can’t stare at the lovely nape of her neck or those cold, menacing eyes of hers.

Instead, I get to sit next to a Zenosian noble, whose twelve watery tentacles wriggle and writhe in my personal space. All twenty of his eyes blink in unison while he drips all over the place.

“Sorry,” he says in a watery voice. “If you get wet, I mean.”

I cross my arms over my chest and sigh. “It’s fine,” I grind out.

The Zenosian wiggles his tentacles, splashing a bit of goo on my thigh, and stares straight ahead. Oh, this is going to be a long, long night.

After a few speakers give their little speeches on the stage, which is decked out in so many flowers I can barely see anyone up there underneath all the glittery petals, the string quartet starts up the bridal march.

“Please stand for the arrival of the bride!” the Lunan man on stage calls out, and everyone leaps to their feet. I awkwardly stand up seconds after everyone else. The music drones on, and I’m sure it’s considered lovely and pretty and all those good things, but honestly, it’s just annoying the crap out of me. Everyone’s eyes are pinned on the doors as they swing open, but I’m scanning the crowd for a glimpse of Margot’s face.

Dammit, where is that woman? Where is my mate?

Mate .

That has a nice ring to it. Never thought of her that way before, but after our almost-kiss, my twin hearts haven’t settled down for a second.

Yes. Mate. Mine.

And no matter how many times I scan the crowd, I can’t find her.

This is what I get for falling for such a shortie. If she were a Gorcian female, she’d be towering over everyone else in the room. But despite not being able to find her in the crowd, I’m grateful she’s not a Gorcian female, because as spicy as Margot gets, at least she doesn’t actually want to rip one of my hearts from my chest and eat it after sex.

Okay, maybe she does. Can never tell with her.

And then my cocks spring to action, like homing beacons, as Margot enters the room in a shimmering black and silver gown. She looks every bit the force of nature that she is.

My hearts thud against my carapace as my entire body warms. Normally, I run cold, but seeing her looking like that awakens something within me. It’s not just lust. Not anymore. Something else is stirring. Something uncomfortable and distant.

Yearning. I’m yearning for her. And now I know she isn’t simply my mate, either.

No, I’m staring at my future wife .

Funny, considering up until a little while ago I never entertained the thought of taking a lifelong partner. But something about the word ‘wife’ has a nice ring to it. I never fit in with Gorcian society, so why not try Lunan? After all, I don’t have any plans to give Margot up. Ever. No, the word mate isn’t sufficient for what I feel for Margot. Wife has a finality to it. A claim over her.

The room goes completely still. She glides down the center of the aisle, holding a bouquet of white orchids. I’ve never seen her look so beautiful—and deadly—before. I want her. No, I need her to be mine.

Emily strides into the room after Margot. Everyone gasps as she makes her way down the aisle while a Handmaiden unit rolls in front of her dispensing flower petals. Margot takes her place at the front of the room as Emily continues to make her way down the aisle. Finally, Xavian appears on stage in a trim black suit. His long, blond hair is swept back into a glossy ponytail. The guy’s so cleaned up, I can’t help but chuckle, and the Zenosian noble next to me pins me with every single one of his creepy eyeballs.

I glare at him. “What? He’s my best mate.”

The Zenosian lets out a soft “hmph” and wisely goes back to minding his own business.

Xavian holds out a gloved hand for Emily to take, and they smile so sweetly at each other I think I’m going to be sick. The human man at the microphone yammers on about love and how perfect it is and yada yada, who cares, right? Because to me, Emily and Xav have been mated for ages already, and this is all just an unnecessary waste of time and resources.

My eyes are locked onto Margot, anyway, who stands beside Emily, smiling. She looks so … so happy, for once. She never smiles at me that way. How can I make her smile like that? What does it take? I have no idea what Lunan women are into. Never gave a shit until her. But now I have the urge to pull up every resource on Lunan women I can find and give her whatever the hell it suggests.

The speaker between Xav and Em drones on while they make lovey-dovey eyes at one another, but something makes my mouth run dry. My pupils dilate, and I sniff the air.

Five of the Zenosian’s eyes whirl to the side and blink at me.“What’s the matter now?” he murmurs.

I ignore him. I smell … why do I smell plasma juice? No one around us seems to notice anything is off, and it’s no wonder. I’m the only Gorcian in attendance. Everyone else is either Terran, Latrixian, Zenosian, Cristallite, or Lunan. We Gorcians make such formidable warriors—the best in the universe, and that’s not me being arrogant—because of our superior senses. We can literally smell danger from miles away.

And right now? My nostrils are itching with the scent of impending death.

I grumble about needing to take a piss, then shuffle across the bench, nearly smashing everyone’s toes in the process. A few guests gasp and whisper about how rude I am, but I don’t give a shit. Xavian is my best friend, with Emily coming in a close second, and Margot…

Margot is going to be my wife.

When I make my way to the enormous double doors, a couple members of the staff rush forward. A trio of Handmaiden bots are at their heels. Their glossy eyes flicker from black to red. My throat tightens at the sight of them. Those things give me the creeps.

“Sir, please don’t leave your seat during the ceremony,” one of the men urges. “Sir, I insist you return to your seat now or you will be removed from the premises,” he repeats.

“Something ain’t right,” I mutter.

I ignore him and throw my entire body weight into the doors. They rattle, drowning out the string quartet entirely.

Suddenly, I feel hundreds of eyes on me, plus however many that Zenosian guy’s got. When I spin back around, everyone is staring at me, including the dozens of Handmaiden bots flanking the aisles.

Fuck.

I look to Xavian and Emily. Xav winces at me, and Emily looks about ready to cry. No, no, no. This is not what was supposed to happen. And when I finally gather enough courage to look at my beautiful Margot, I gulp down the lump in my throat.

Yeah. My girl’s face could freeze the Hell dimension of Proxima Centauri. Her eyes glint in the soft lighting of the room, and she tilts her angular face downward.

A warning. No, a threat.

She’s going to kill me.