Page 3 of Starborn Husbands
“I don’t need you here. If I thought I’d need backup, I would have brought Atlanta.” Not to mention, I have texted him and he hasn’t responded.
He sighs long and heavily, rubbing his forehead. “How do I put this gently? Your brother is currently railing my brother. I didn’t exactly stay to watch, but if history is anything to go by?—”
“How the fuck is that gently?” And fucking Gods, Atlanta. It’s yet another problem I don’t need.
I get another shrug.
“Regardless, if I needed him, he’d … pull his dick from your brother.”
Zhang smiles so wide he glows. Literally. “If you knew what it was like to fuck or be fucked by a Centaurus, you’d know that’s not going to happen. He’d one hundred percent choose to leave you for dead over leaving my brother’s ass.”
I clench my fists. He’s goading me. “Look, just go. I’m not your fucking concern.”
He crosses his arms over his wide chest, puffing it unnecessarily. Fuck, he’s so tall. Why does he have to be so tall and imposing? “I’m going in there with you, Treyu.”
The moonlight shines over his face, highlighting the scar across his left cheek—one long and ugly slice—my scar, the one I left there. A scar like that burns. I know because the one on my ass never lets me forget it’s there. That’s what happens when a starblade slices into a star and no one allows you to have the scar removed.
My phone buzzes in my pocket again. Probably my other problem, growing more insistent. Zhang or the other thing? Those are my choices. How bad is it that I’m picking Zhang?
“Fine, but then I’m going to finish the job I did on your face.”
“Wasn’t asking your permission, Orion, and you’re welcome to try. This was a cheap shot. You’ll never get an opportunity like it again.”
“At least I was smart enough to get mine removed. Your daddy make you keep that as punishment?”
“No, but yours did.” Fucking hell, Atlanta. We need to haveanothertalk about what he tells his not-boyfriend post orgasm. “I like having my mark there. It’s almost like you’re mine.”
He’s needling me again. “By that logic, you’re mine too.”
He fucking walked into that one.
The lid blows off the top of the bar, depriving me of the delight of his response.
“Fuck. This is your fault,” I say as I run toward the wooden structure that managed to remain erect despite the travesty that has just befallen it. I pull my blades and the muted ring of steel from behind me says Zhang has too.
Miraculously, humans have survived, and they pour from the exits, scattering like confused scarabs as roof parts rain down. Buddy to my left knocks into me on his way out, and buddy to my right flat-out pushes me sideways.
Gods, people need to get the fuck outta my way.
We zig-zag through the pandemonium and into what’s left of the bar. In the center is what I came for, a shadow demon. It’s sucking souls and reaching with its tentacles to lasso humans, trapping them for the main course once it’s done with appetizers.
Fuck it’s huge. Larger than I expected. And it’s got teeth. The last time I saw one of these things, it was a lot smaller, and it was before the fall. I was more powerful then. My ass cheek throbs like a warning, and I know I’m going to need Zhang if I want to save as many humans as possible without dying in the process.
“You take the rear. I’ll take front,” I shout over the chaos.
He steps past me like he’s stepping through me. “You’re not in charge, Orion. I’m taking the front.”
He doesn’t wait for me to agree because he’s right. As Guardian Ambassador, he ranks above my father, which means he ranks well above me. His wispy red hair whips by me with the tails of his long black jacket flaring. I can’t wait for this to be done so I can rid all the universes of his arrogance. “Arrrrgh.”
The dark smoky beast lets out a snarl and thrusts its tentacle toward another human. Zhang slices through it with efficiency I can’t help admiring. He’s good with that sword, but not as good as I am. Of course, I don’t have my sword anymore, just a lousy set of consolation starblades. The same kind they give to young star children while they’re earning their sunstar.
I have to get close to the thing to use them. It’s a dangerous position. I don’t mind, it would just be a helluva lot easier with a fucking long blade. Spinning into the inky black fire, I do my own war-style acrobatics. I’ve never even heard of a shadow demon with tentacles. This is ridiculous.
“Treyu, your head,” Zhang warns.
Too fucking late.
A smoky tentacle barrels straight for my fucking head. I swerve with enough time for it to miss my noggin, but it’s able to encircle my chest instead and immediately sips on my soul like it’s double margarita Thursday.
