Page 172 of Starborn Husbands

He laughs. “And here I was worried your sense of humor would die down here. I need to cuff you. Hands behind your back.”

Yeah, fucking, yeah.

* * *

I’m brought before the Guild. I guess judgment day is here. I survey every last one of the little pukes who think they’re so damn righteous, sitting on their golden chairs. I’ve fought and protected every last one of them, but drink from the cup one time and you’re battling starlight cockroaches in the dark.

Gem isn’t here. Not surprising.

Merrick is among the Guild in his chair, but he’s not dressed like the battle-ready angel he is. He’s wearing a white T-shirt, and black trousers. New look? Or is he mocking them? I can’t imagine he’s forgiven them for what they did to Treyu.

Madame Luella shuffles from her place and to the front of the long table to meet me. I search for the traces of “creepy” that Treyu said were there last he saw her. There’s nothing out of the ordinary as far as I can see, but it began that way for Treyu too. Treyu’s also prone to exaggeration. I love my brother dearly, but he’s a damn drama queen.

She frowns and her wisp-like limbs sag. “I find no joy in this, Atlanta.”

“It’s alright, ma’am. I don’t deny what I did. Nor do I regret it,” I say, raising my voice for the crowd. The only reason most of them are here is for a show, I might as well give it to them. “I drank from the cup for the most selfish reason of all. Love. I love Gemini Centaurus. I’d do it again, and again, and a-fucking-gain.”

No one breathes for an entire heartbeat.

“You tell ‘em, Atlanta!” Treyu yells from the rafters, breaking the dead silence. Merrick and Zhang glare at him from opposite ends of the room. I love him, but he’s gonna get himself kicked out of here.

Luella smiles but wipes it away quickly. “As with your brother, the Guild wanted an execution, but the king has ruled against that sentence.”

He has? My head spins toward the king whose face holds the same glower it always does for me. Yep, still hates me. This was his chance to get rid of me forever. You’d think he’d take it.

The king’s long robes trail behind him and his swan-like glide reminds me so much of Gemini, my heart clenches.

“I have kept your service to our Nebuli in mind. You will not be rendered to stardust.”

That should relieve me, but the relief doesn’t come.

“Instead, I have sold you into service with the Rock people. If you work hard, sometimes you can buy your way out … in a hundred years or so.”

Knew something like that was coming. Long enough for Gemini to move on and have a few starlets with the Prince of Caimia to solidify their union. My hands shake. I’ve got to get out of here before any of that happens.

But these cuffs are a problem, and so are the several guardians at my back.

A loud hum lances everyone’s eardrums, but at least they can mute the sound with their hands. I’m left to bear the piercing pain, my body cringing. It reaches a crescendo in time with a large burst of blue light. Black wings materialize, clouding the starry brightness of the room. The dark seraph rune climbs his neck and spills onto his lower jaw, glimmering waves of silver.

His dark war general jacket might as well be another person. It must be heavy. How does he fight while wearing that thing? I’d love to watch him do it. He’s rumored to be the best warrior in all the Garrison.

The blue light recedes, fading into his eyes, but energy crackles around him. Everyone falls to their knees, including the members of the Guild. I’m not in the mood, but I follow suit, not quite out of one world of trouble—I don’t need another.

“Get up,” Daniel’s voice rasps. “Merrick, get your ass over here.”

The dark angel saunters over to his father. To the naked eye, he’s a solid force, but I catch the tremble. Does he fear his father that much?

“What in the name of the Gods are you wearing?”

The big scary seraph is such … such a dad, but if all he’s here to do is criticize Merrick for his fashion choices, that works for me. He should take Merrick to the Garrison with him, far away from my brother.

Merrick scrubs a hand over his face. “Have you come to fetch me, Father?”

“Yes. You and the miscreant star. Your uncles, Gabriel and Michael, are outside with the others.”

Others? How many angels are here?

“If you had called, I would have come,” Merrick says.