Page 175 of Starborn Husbands

A torpedo of wings and blue energy spins our way, Ridomie dives in front of it, and the angel bounces off him like a rubber ball. How are they doing that?

“Get the fuck out of here, Atlanta,” he commands. And it is a command. This guy’s used to telling people what to do.

No one tells me what to do, I’m my own man now, but in this case, it’s solid advice.

Boone’s army makes it easy for me to run across the grassy fields until I reach the tall trees of the forest’s edge, where a few of the palace guards have decided to wait for me.

The sky darkens as gray clouds come together, giving the incandescent fauna a gloomy backdrop. There’s nothing as eerie as the Tauri Nebula before it’s about to rain.

“Look who’s trying to escape,” the most annoying-looking one says. I recognize the voice. It’s one of the lovely palace guards who apprehended me. Guess we’re doing this.

“You had your hands on my fucking property,” I say.One, two, three, four … ten.There are ten of these idiots, intent on stopping me from leaving. I need to get to Gem, but looks like I’m going to have to take care of these assholes first. It would be easier with my rifle, but using my hands’ll be just as fun.

“Atlanta, sir, wait!” A small army of guardians headed by Gunther, make their way away from the angel pandemonium. “Let us take care of them for you. We owe you. We never should have … fuck. I can’t stand that we were part of your arrest for something I’m glad you did.”

Crack!My fist makes a satisfying connection with Gunther’s face. He reels, taking a step backward. “That’s for trying to take Gem.” The rest, I get. “Now, get the fuck out of my way?—”

“You need to get to him. Now. Go. We’ll handle them. Let us do that for you.”

I want nothing more than to make hamburger meat out of every palace guard responsible for making Gem cry, but I feel the urgency. There isn’t time. Only calculated recklessness, if I don’t have to fight, it would be just plain recklessness.

Buddy gives a signal to apprehend me as I’m nodding, and Gunther’s first in line to tackle him. The other guardians follow suit doing as fine a job as I would have, stopping them like stone walls of muscle.

My path is clear.

Hang on, baby. I’m coming for you.

* * *

All hands are on deck at the Guild temple, which leaves the palace largely unguarded. Now would be a great time for anyone to bust in and take over. It works for me. I know this place like the back of my hand—every nook, cranny, and secret entrance. With most of what’s left of the guard focused on the king, I’m able to slip in, keeping to the darkest halls, and creep up to Gem’s rooms.

The door doesn’t open when I step up to it. Locked, but from the outside. I slam my hand onto the face of the door and leak some of my star into it. Electricity pulses and my body flinches. Dammit. I won’t be thwarted by a locked door. If only I had my rifle.

Loud voices force me to abandon my Pleiadian version of lock picking. I delve into the shadows, and freeze.

“I’m the king, Rigel, not you. You have no right to confine me to my quarters like this.”

“That’s enough, Brant,” Father says. “My Gods-given mission is to protect you at all costs, even from your fool head.”

I scan my long memory to see if I can find a time when Father called the king just Brant. I can’t.

But they’re not friends. The man is our king. Hell, I’m not even sure I knew his name was Brant. There are only two pairs of footsteps, which tells me they’re alone. The king might be complaining, but wherever Father’s taking him, he’s going semi-willingly.

I know someone else like that, and his name is Treyu.

“Make me, Orion,” he says.

Did he just…?

There’s rustling, and the wall shakes. Then it’s panting and little sucking noises. Fucking Gods. Father is not kissing the king. He’snot.

“N-Not, not here, Rigel. Someone will hear us.”

Yeah, me. Your damn son.

Smack!Skin cracks against skin. “I’ll take you wherever I damn well please.”

“This is why I hate you. You’re a barbarian.” But then the king peals off a long moan that suggests he feels the opposite of hate for whatever my father’s doing to him. I need to get away from here.