Page 32 of Starborn Husbands

That reminds me that I haven’t given my answer. Fuck. I have nothing monumental to say.

“You’d have to leave your family, Atlanta. It’s a lot to ask … but it’s just an idea and if you have a better one?—”

None of the right words come so I give up on words and kiss him instead. A hard, claiming kiss to destroy all his doubts. I’ll protect him forever. I don’t know what his plans are for hunting, but I might need to teach him some things. He’s better with his mind—his beautiful mind. It’s why he can use a stargate at all. Only those who have achieved enough power over their states of consciousness can use one.

I suck his lower lip into my mouth, locking my tongue around his to deepen the kiss.

“I’m never letting you go again,” I say, and I hope that’s answer enough.

“And we’ll still have lots of star babies?”

“If you could get pregnant, I’d knock you up right now.” In fact, no harm in trying and trying and trying.

“Gods, please, my ears,” Zhang says. He’s a comparable force to the storm, stomping around, still searching in vain for what’s not going to be found with the wreckage.

Fuck Zhang. I’m going to be with my man. We’re going to do the most amazing things for the universe together. I don’t have to figure out how to breathe without him.

Gemini stops me from kissing him again. I frown. “We need to discuss the details, baby.”

His chest heaves with sobs. Why? I find the tears on his face that have mixed with the acid rainwater, distinguishing them by the salty tang that hits my tongue, licking them off his face until he’s laughing. I ignore Zhang’s annoyed grunts.

“Fuck the details if they make you cry.”

“I’m crying because I’m happy. Now that we’re … whatever we are, I’m gonna have to teach you about feelings, my perfectly imperfect caveman.”

“I feel things,” I argue. It’s Dad’s fault that I feel things. I was in Father’s life before Dad. We lived in the wilderness for a while, and we didn’t do feelings. Dad came along just after Treyu was born so Treyu got a mix of parenting styles before they amalgamated because they were new as a married couple.

“You do. Sometimes you don’t read them so well, Atlanta.”

“I can learn how to read you,” I insist.

“About fucking time,” Zhang says. “Meanwhile, I could write a manual on how to translate every convoluted sentence your brother says.”

“Which one? Oh right, the one you’re pathetically in love with?—”

“Okay, enough you two,” Gem says. “We need to figure out the logistics. It won’t be easy.”

“I’ll need to talk to Uncle Ryan. I don’t think I’ll tell him what we’re doing, but I need to make sure he doesn’t sound the alarm when I don’t check in at curfew.”

“What are you going to tell him?” Zhang asks. He sheathes his sword, finally giving up at the same time the rain does, as if the storm is in sync with his thoughts.

“That I need an extended leave. With the way I’ve been all week, he’ll be glad of it.” Uncle Ryan’s trying to get me to take leave all the time.

“Were you upset because of me, lover?”

“Yes,” I say with added emphasis, so he knows I do feel things. Though he must know. Maybe it’s just that he thinks I don’t understand him, but I do. Most of the time. “I couldn’t … Gem, I couldn’t breathe.”

I clutch my heart, remembering the sensation, his arms squeeze me tighter.

“Never again,” he promises. “I’ll never let you feel like that again.”

“I need to get back. We have other problems more important than the days of your lives,” Zhang grunts, glaring murder at us. I bet he has a lot to say about our plan, but wisely keeps his mouth shut.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Zhang. We’re going. Gem says Trey’s fine. Stop worrying.” I’m a hypocrite, though. If we were talking about Gem, I’d have murdered and pillaged by now.

“You need my access to the cup. Maybe you should be a little nicer to me,” Zhang says.

“Nah. You’ll do it for Gem either way.” I thread my thick fingers with Gem’s slender ones.