Page 38 of Monsters in Love: Lost in the Stars

Cal

“What’s wrong with you?”

I groaned into my cup of tea. The memory of my abhorrent behavior the day before continued to eat away at me.

Stupid, stupid dragon.

It was a typical day. I was at my desk, headphones filling my tympanic membranes with brown noise instead of office chatter, when I felt that familiar, gut-wrenching pull.

My mate’s emotional distress called to me like a beacon, demanding my action and attention. Without a second thought, I was up and on the move to find Medea. When I rounded the corner, she was right where I expected, but she wasn’t alone. Jason was there, far closer to her than he ever deserved, with that smarmy look I craved to pummel from his face.

I growled at the mental image, smoke curling from my nose.

When I saw them both there, all I wanted was for him to leave her alone and for her to be okay, my mind whirring with questions.

What was wrong, and why was she hurting? What was wrong with him for him to make her hurt? How could I fix it?

Instead of actually saying anything that would convey those protective instincts and concerns, I had barked out “What’s wrong with you?” with all the grace of a rampaging dragonling.

I hadn’t meant it that way, but the poorly-phrased and delivered question had hit Medea with all the force of a slap across the face.

What’s. Wrong. With. You.

That’s what I asked my mate when she was feeling distressed.

I abandoned my cup of tea to the table, now lukewarm and unappetizing.

No wonder she ignored our mate bond and avoided me. When she arrived on A4-23, I knew her instantly, the mate bond screaming for me to run up and introduce myself to the black haired beauty, then casually ask her when she wanted to move in.

I had a mental spreadsheet half finished with figures on moving costs and furniture, courting presents and buying Baldren out of the lease before I had noticed her hand tucked in his , and how her blue eyes shone up at him. Jason.

For a dragonkin, finding their fated was rare. I wasn’t the first to find one after they were already with another; many of our kind took chosen mates rather than waiting to see if they were one of the lucky few to find a fated mate. Cross-species mates had been nearly unheard of for our kind, but when some dragonkin found their fated among other species, more of our kind had opened up to the idea.

I hadn’t heard of any other dragonkin finding a fated in a human, but I was happy to be the first.

She was perfect, even if I would never get to be with her.

“What’s wrong with you?”

I swiped my hand down my face and rested my chin in my palm, claws tapping along my jaw. What a travesty.

The foiled wrapper of the sheet mask I had set out on the table glinted in the lamp light, but opening it tonight felt like a waste of good skin care. I usually loved nights like this when Baldren—my roommate—was late at the office or working for one of the apps he enjoyed.

He needed to be surrounded by people and noise. I needed quiet time alone to recharge. I would spend hours watching human documentaries, “sitcoms” as they called them, or reading up on human history—two hobbies I picked up after discovering my human mate. I indulged in the best creature comforts: the fluffiest blankets, the silkiest robes, and the cushiest slippers. Fragrant teas and scale-friendly face masks or claw care kits.

Days at the office were grueling, so indulging in such little treats was a way to recover. I wasn’t good with people; it was exhausting parsing out what they actually meant, as it so often differed from what they said. Office politics was a delicate dance, one where I did not know the steps. When I spoke, I had to be very careful with how I phrased myself—too often I was perceived as combative or outlandish when that had not been my intent. Most days I didn’t say anything at all. Not if I could help it.

When I did, I managed to hurt the one person that meant the world to me, even if she would never know it.

Tonight’s routine wasn’t going to be enough to distract me from this mistake.

My wrist vibrated with an incoming call. Usually my comms unit was on do not disturb, but tonight I welcomed the distraction and flicked open the screen with a thankful sigh.

Baldren’s rocky face, all glowing lava and dark stone, peered back at me, his downturned mouth and knit brow shifting with surprise.

“You actually answered.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s your spa time.”

I huffed. “It’s not ‘spa time’, it's just an evening at home.”

“An evening at home for a pampered dragon.”

Any other night, I would have ended the call as my response, but right now the frustrating Typhorian was the distraction I desperately needed.

“Did you need something?”

He nodded quickly before a blast of sound behind him made him wince and peer over his shoulder, then turn back to the screen with more urgency.

“I need to make this fast. There’s an emergency at the forge. I’m going to be here all night,. Probably all of tomorrow, too. I wanted to give you a heads up, but I’m also supposed to have a client this evening.”

“Can you call them?”

“That’s the thing, they’re about to cut the transmitters here. We’re going into lockdown. I called you first just in case I wouldn’t have time for both.”

My wrist vibrated again with an incoming appointment reminder.

“That’s where I’m supposed to be meeting the client. Could you go over there and let them know?”

I grimaced. A distracting call was one thing. Going out…

“I can call the bar, let the bartender know to look out for the name.”

Baldren shook his head. “The app uses false names until after an introduction, they won’t know who she is from that.”

“Then how will I?—”

“I’m sending you her photo now, she’s human; just please go meet?—”

The feed cut. Baldren’s face disappeared, the entire holo display closing. My claws danced over the keys to reconnect, but he was gone.

Baldren was in emergency lockdown, there would be no reaching him.

The event invite was for a bar not far from here, maybe a 10 minute transporter ride. Baldren was set to meet a person through the app called “Azure”. She would know him as “Igneous”.

I snorted. It was such an obvious choice for a Typhorian, their forms all stone and lava. The idea of some woman sitting alone at a bar, waiting for a date that would never come, gnawed at me. I could sit here and stew in my own self loathing, or I could get dressed, go back out into the busy world, and help someone else.

I groaned, but rose from my seat, giving my fuzzy slippers one last mournful look before trudging to the closet to change.

Sound crashed over me like a wave as I entered the bar, leaving me wincing as I shuffled through the throng of people milling about near the door.

Finding one human woman in this herd of beings was going to be difficult, especially when I had no idea what she looked like and only had a code name to go on. Besides, she would be looking for a Typhorian, not a dragonkin, making this even more difficult.

Skin and fabric slipped along my scales as I slid my way through the crowd. The floor pulled at my shoes with each step, likely soiled with a spilled beverage. There were too many textures, too many sounds, too many sensations.

Get to the bar.

Focusing on that goal and that goal alone helped me cut through some of the stimulation. Finally, I made it to the bar, picking a corner where I could easily see most of the room from my place.

“What can I get you?”

“A fire brew, please.”

The human male nodded and busied himself at the taps, passing me my drink and moving on to the next customer. I scanned the crowd. There was a human brunette in the corner, but she was with a larger group, laughing loudly with her compatriots. In the middle of the throng, a petite woman with pink hair was grinding against an android. Neither seemed likely as my contact.

To the back left of the room, a curvy blonde was posted at a high top table, a drink in hand, but the other seat remained empty. Her eyes scanned the crowd carefully, much like mine.

Hmm, a likely candidate.

I would keep my eye on her, but continued to scan the room just in case, until my eyes landed on her.

Medea.

I was too overwhelmed when I arrived to have noticed the mate bond, but there she sat, black hair curled at the ends, blue eyes flicking over a menu, then out to the crowd, and back again. She sat at the bar itself, on the opposite side of the U-shaped structure from me, barely in the line of sight.

She appeared to be alone.

Surely not… right? Would Medea hire Baldren for company?

My chest vibrated with my jealousy, smoke ebbing from my nostrils before I could stop it.

It had to be the blonde.

I’ll keep an eye on both of them . I told myself the lie, fighting already not to stare at my mate.