Page 12 of Starborn Husbands

Uncle Ryan exhales all his frustrations with the world. “No. You’re going with him. You’re going home.”

My skin inflates with air and then tightens. Home? Why doesn’t that feel as good as it should?

Oh, I know why. Because the king doesn’t allow fallen stars to drink from the cup for just any reason and drinking from the cup is the only way I could return home. If I’m going home, presumably I’m being reinstated, and for that to have happened, it can only mean something worse has transpired overnight.

“What did I miss? What happened?” I ask.

“The Guild found a body at the bar. A human child. She’s dead.”

I scrunch my face, confused as fuck. “A child? But it was a bar. A seedy fucking bar. There were no children there. Trust me.”

“Did you and Zhang do a check before you left? Like you’re supposed to?”

Fuck, no we did not. We were involved in Timothy drama, and before that, me drinking Jim Beam straight from the bottle drama, and before that, Zhang and me bickering like a murderous old married couple drama. “We didn’t, sir, but there weren’t any children there.”

He breathes in this time. “I believe you, but the Guild doesn’t. The mission was yours so you’re being charged for it.”

“Why me? It was Zhang’s mission too.”

“Technically, no. He wasn’t assigned that mission or any mission that night. He’s been reprimanded for being there without request, but the responsibility is all yours.”

Reprimanded my ass. Did the king slap his wrist and tell him he was a bad boy?

My heart races. This can’t be happening. Nothing makes sense. Zhang said he was given an assignment by “Starfleet”. Usually, when he says stupid shit like that, he means the Guild. If he wasn’t, why would he have bothered?

Atlanta finally animates. “Shit.”

“What?” Uncle Ryan says.

“Zhang said something last night. I didn’t think much of it because he didn’t have any facts, but he thinks Treyu’s in danger.”

“What kind of danger?”

“He didn’t know.”

I stare at my brother and uncle as my world falls apart again. I haven’t recovered from any of the last several times my world fell apart, and I imagine that my insides simply crack and hodge-podge themselves, resembling a porcelain doll that’s been glued back together too many times.

“I-If a child did die on my assignment, I’ll take full responsibility for that.” That’s all I’ve got to latch onto. “I’ll take the punishment and the reprimand.”

I still don’t think a child was there, but if one was found it’s possible that I missed them with my childish behavior. Is that considered irony?

Uncle Ryan swallows. “They are going to punish you for it, but they’ve also …” he trails off. No one in my family is good at talking. We’re all a bunch of emotionally immature cactuses. I hate it when I’m on the other end, but I’m not any better.

Zhang stalks into the room, his loud boots click against the tiled floor.

“Who the fuck let you in here?” I yell.

“You’re not ready. Why aren’t you ready? Fuck.” His deep voice is gruff.

He turns and leaves the kitchen, his jacket flaring behind him, leaving cold air in his wake. I chase after him, maybe just to yell at him. Not sure yet. I need to take my frustrations out on something and he’s the perfect target.

He’s got longer legs than I do, and he makes it to my bedroom, which he of course knows how to get to. Creepy.

“This changes once we’re married. You’ll obey me, Treyu.” Fuck his voice for being the right decibel of domineering. I shiver, too shocked to unleash the wrath I had planned. His eyes dart around the room until they find my large duffel bag. He tosses it on the bed and proceeds to grab shit at random from my closet.

“Married? Did I sleep through a proposal? If I said yes in my sleep, it doesn’t count.”

He ignores me, filling up my pack. I watch with morbid fascination. Was he possessed last night? Finally satisfied, he closes my pack and slings it over his shoulder.