Page 29 of Alien's Luck
Scratch all that. He might be friendship material if he kept his damn mouth shut.
Carla smiled as sweetly as she could and batted her lashes. “Do you want to be my friend?”
Ari took a step back, and his wings shivered, as if disgusted. “What is that? Do not do that.”
“Do what?” Her smile widened.
“With your face.”
“It’s my friend face.” She took a step toward him. “This is what friendship looks like.”
“Human faces are too expressive. Cease making the friend face at once,” he said, sounding genuinely horrified.
Oh, this was delightful.
Carla cackled with glee and held out her hands like claws, threatening to pounce… with friendship, of course. No other motivations involved.
“Your pet requires training.”
The stranger’s unwelcome comment was as shocking as having a bucket of cold water dumped on Carla’s head, reminding her that they were very much on display. That was the point.
Carla turned around to find a Khargal woman critically examining her appearance. Carla returned the favor, taking in the woman’s long silver braid and flowy white gown. The silver hair and delicate fabric glowed like moonlight. It appeared elegant without effort, which Carla knew for a fact involved a ton of effort. Carla’s own lavender gray dress with its deep V neck and nearly translucent fabric seemed gaudy in comparison.
Two massive slabs of muscles stood behind the woman at a discreet distance. These men—assuming a masculine gender based on nothing more than body type—had broad, flat noses and a shock of thick, tawny hair that flowed well past their shoulders, giving the appearance of lions.
The Khargal woman’s critical gaze swept over Carla. She did not look impressed.
Ari wrapped a possessive wing around Carla, tucking her into his side. He said, “Madame Delandra.”
Should Carla know that name? It was becoming clear that she and Poppy did not run in the same circles as Ari. Thatdisastrous excursion to the club three nights ago had been the first time in that particular establishment. In hindsight, they were playing out of their league. Sure, they should have spent a couple nights watching people and learning the vibes. Mistakes were made. Chance and a misunderstanding were the only reasons Carla escaped the consequences of their choices while Poppy suffered.
“I did not seek the opinion of others,” Ari said.
“This one is too spirited. She’ll run away,” Delandra said, as if Carla was not even there.
“I am not interested in broken playthings,” Ari replied.
Carla bit her tongue, struggling to keep her mouth shut. Two years she’d been on this planet, and it never got easier having people talk about her like she was a thing or a misbehaving puppy.
“Consider it advice freely given, Lord Solivair.”
“It’s Ari now,” he said. Nothing in his tone or posture said he was bothered, but somehow, Carla knew that name upset Ari.
“Is it? How interesting,” Delandra murmured in a tone that sounded bored. She reached for the gold necklace Carla wore, holding Carla’s gaze as she raised the pendant up to catch the light. “A very pretty ornament.”
This was weird, right? Aliens had different expectations for social etiquette, and the concept of personal space always seemed to be in flux—like right now, tucked under Ari’s wing like a baby chick—but this was weirder than usual.
“Pretty,” she said, still clutching the pendant. Then added, “For a human.”
Carla batted the woman’s hand away, breaking her hold on the necklace. “Well, you’re not so bad for a bitch.”
Delandra raised her hand as if to slap her. The protective shelter of Ari’s wing fell away as he stepped back. Carla squeezed her eyes closed and tensed, waiting for the slap.
Nothing happened.
“Do not,” Ari said.
Carla opened her eyes to see Ari clutching the woman’s wrist.
