Page 26 of Starborn Husbands

“I see, so that’s an excuse to allow chaos? I don’t fucking think so. Get out to the hall and clean up the mess before our parents get home.” By right of Orion hierarchy, I’m in charge now. It doesn’t matter how long I’ve been away or how short my stay might be.

He chugs his coffee and mutters something about never getting a break around here, but he doesn’t argue because he knows I’m right.

“You’re my new second in command,” I tell the baby. “Sargent Trinket. You like that?”

“Do I … do I get to tell people what t’do, Treyu?”

“Yep.”

“But I’m the youngest.”

“And I’m commander until Dad walks through those doors. I’m going to honor your input, soldier. Let’s get this place organized.”

I have a grand time terrorizing all my brothers with orderliness and responsibility. None of them are happy with me, but they’ll thank me when they’re not getting their asses handed to them by our parents. I finally find Jamie out back, yelling at seemingly nothing.

After a minute I decipher that his argument is with his boyfriend via the com he’s wearing, and I have no compunction shaking him out of his vibrational connection by his neck and then plunking him in a chair. “Forget about something?” I say.

“Aw, shit. Yeah. Sorry, buddy,” he says to Trinket.

“You’re lucky I came in when I did. We could have had shish kebob Trinket.”

He smiles at me even though I’m genuinely pissed at him. “Hey, Trey. You’re home.”

“For a few days. I don’t live here anymore.” But my authority will always stand. Trinket’s head sinks into my shoulder as I sway him with his eyes slowly drifting into sleep land. “I am disciplining your ass for this. Unacceptable on every level, Jamie.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “W-What you gonna do?”

“Haven’t decided yet. Whatever it is will be awful and creative.” I’ve lived with Uncle Ryan for a hundred years. He’s come up with a lot I can use. “Go find something useful to do.”

“You need to chill out, Trey.”

“Excuse me?”

“Uh … so yeah, I’m just gonna …” He races out, as he fucking well should.

I sit on one of the garden benches in the middle of some of the best flowers in the Nebuli with our newest Orion and kiss his tiny head. He’s out, his small body slack against my chest. Fuck he’s miniature. I wanna bubble wrap him, but we don’t have bubble wrap in the Nebuli.Stars are made of stronger stuff than humans.I’m gonna repeat that a lot when I think of him.

“Sleep, baby star. I’ll watch over you.” I feel him breathe against me and hold one of his baby feet so I can run a thumb over his toe knuckles. He sleeps as soundly as a babe should.

* * *

Treyu

Dad’s vibrant energy cuts through the garden as he strides toward me, and I’m grateful I have a baby to protect me.

Stars don’t get to be with their mothers until later. This makes it easier for when the inevitable happens; when she dies. Humans cannot become stars. They don’t have the right DNA to withstand drinking from the cup. But some stars live as humans with no memory of having been a star until they “die” and become a star again, which is different from falling. It’s a form of enlightenment on the path to becoming an angel.

I never stop hearing about Zhang’s time as a human. Lecture after lecture about all his deep and meaningful realizations. The only upside was the one hundred and seventeen years without him. He lived as a human for ninety-seven of those years and then he died and returned to hover in the galaxy to regenerate.

Dad is the only nurturer among us because he’s an Orion by marriage, not DNA. Some days I feel sorry for him having to live with us—a house full of military orangutans. Orions are hard by nature. We don’t like to talk about our feelings. We definitely don’t like to admit when we’re wrong—okay, no one does, but we’re exceptionally bad at it. We aren’t prone to affection.

Well … except this, holding our little ones close.

“I knew he was going to love you on sight,” Dad says.

“Does this mean I’m forgiven for the whole ‘I’ve wrangled myself into an arranged marriage with a Centaurus’ thing?”

Dad tilts his head, and his eyes soften. He’s a slight man with long wispy hair. He likes flow-y clothes. He has the sharpest tongue in the Nebuli. “Your father isn’t pleased, but I think this will be good for you. The Centaurus—that Centaurus—is a nice boy.”