PROLOGUE
PONTIUS
She’s here. Somewhere. I can smell her. My fated-mate.
The night is early but Moonshine is already crowded. It’s going to be difficult to pick her out from the other patrons. I know I smell her, even amongst all the other humans here tonight, her scent stands out. It’s far more intoxicating than the liquor in my hand. Driving me to find her, protect her, steal her, fly her back to my nest, bury myself in her pussy, and convince her to be with me forever. Marry me. Bear my Mothlings.
She will be mine.
If I can figure out who she is before the noise of human nightlife drives me from the bar.
I unfurl my proboscis tongue, dip it into my glass and take a long sip of bourbon. Hopefully the alcohol will dull the throb building in my head.
I love watching humans. I love their culture, their music, their movies, their activities. They are fascinating, lively, entertaining, and completely exhausting. When I bought Moonshine I tried to create a place where humans and cryptids could interact. Even here, in a business I own, it still gets so loud it bothers my sensitive antennae.
Any other evening I’d finish my drink and head home, where I can decompress alone. I can’t do that tonight. I have to manage my discomfort until I find the woman I am meant to spend the rest of my life with. She’s here, somewhere. Her scent tells me she’s human. Female. Perfect.
There are a couple dozen women spread through the room, and she could be any of them.
Any except the one sitting beside me.
“Don’t drink like that, Pontius. It’s gross.” Tiffany, my date, and sometimes girlfriend, glances up from her phone to advise.
“Sorry, Tiffany,” I say, pulling my tongue back into my mouth.
“No problem, babe.” Tiffany's always tried to help me blend in with humans. She pats my arm gently. Usually I enjoy her company, tonight it feels wrong.
“No, I mean—“ I pull away from her touch. “We have to end this.” I gesture between us.
This has her full attention. Tiffany’s eyes go wide.
“Are you serious?” Her brow furrows. We've dated, off-and-on, for almost two years. Before now, it was always her who initiated our splits. I knew she wasn’t my fated-mate. Spending time with her was better than being completely alone.
“Is this because I went out with that gargoyle last week?” she asks. “I told you baby, he didn’t mean anything.”
My antennae curve down. “I can’t see you again. I’ve found my mate.”
“Your mate? Where?” Tiffany gestures skeptically to the empty seats at our table.
“She’s…somewhere.” I scan the room.
From my private booth in the corner, I can observe the entire bar; while I was talking to Tiffany more humans arrived and spread amongst the tables. Disguising her scent even further.
The crowd’s attention is turned to a screen on one wall where we’re projecting our monthly 'Monster Love Movie Night’.
“You’re sure it’s not me?” Tiffany leans her breasts into my arm. She’s usually good at this sort of thing, flirting to make me feel more at ease, but now her touch feels wrong.
“It isn’t you.” I pull away from her again. It’d almost be easier if it were her. I’ve never had much luck with dating, human or otherwise.
Dating as a Mothman can be difficult. Most humans aren’t willing to see me almost exclusively after sunset, and asking a stranger you match on an app to meet a monster in a dark quiet place isn’t usually received well.
Tiffany sticks out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout—the way she does when she’s trying to get her way. It doesn't help tonight. She can’t compare to the perfect woman waiting somewhere in this room. Now that I’ve found my real mate, even Tiffany's smell is artificially saccharine.
“You’re serious? You are dropping me for someone you haven’t met yet?”
“Yes,” I hesitate before adding. “I’m sorry it’s so abrupt?—“
Tiffany interrupts me with a loud sigh and sinks back to her seat. “Am I still going to get the Burkin?”
