* * *
We’re not contacted by the King of the Nebuli, he shows up on the motel’s doorstep. I don’t think he cares for his sons’ choice of accommodations. The king has long white hair with streaks of the red that once filled his flowing locks many millennia ago, and a solid jaw that could cut glass. No matter the ethnicity of their mothers, Centaurus men seem to inherit that strong jawline.
All Centauruses have his red hair except for Silva who was born with stark white, which she usually streaks with the color of the moment. Last I saw her, she had green.
He glows and he doesn’t bother to hide it. He’s the brightest star in the Nebuli. I recognize the anger blazing through him. It’s just like Zhang’s anger, though; I guess that means Zhang is just like him.
The king has never liked me much—I know, news that surprises no one. Mostly because I’m an Orion. We have different ways. The Gods like the controversy, which makes me sometimes think we’re just their soap opera they Netflix and chill with. But it also means they’re not here to blast one family or another out of the sky.
They leave that for us to do ourselves, all the while having to work together to meet the same end: Protect Earth and several other planets beyond the Pleiades.
Never believe that Gods aren’t cruel and interested in their own amusement as priority one. They created us and we are enslaved to them. They care that we follow their orders, but after that, we’re on our own. It’s beyond me why Zhang wants to become an angel and serve them more than he already does. He’d belong to the Garrison and have no life. That might be why I hate him most.
My family, we’re the guardians. Not quite royalty, but not like everyone else either. The king is forced to put up with us. He doesn’t have to allow us to get married. It speaks to how much he feels Zhang’s played his part in this.
Crackling with rage, he stands before us, and we all fall to our knees as quickly as possible on the gross motel room floor. He’s not as quick to let us up.
“I don’t like my time wasted, Zhang,” he says.
Jeez. Then send a minion. Why is he here? My father would be incensed to know he hasn’t brought a single guard with him. The king isn’t worried about coming to Earth, I guess, but he should be worried about what else comes to Earth. That’s one of those things my father could enforce on the king—a guard every time he leaves the palace. It’s also what makes me know the king is a fucking brat. Only a brat would willfully disobey a reasonable order like that. I’d totally do it too if I were king, just to make sure my father knew he wasn’t the boss of me.
Um, I mean, unless I was the one up against my father. In that case I’d do everything Rigel Orion says to do to the letter because I don’t disobey my father. Often. I’m still his kid after all, but it’s just a bad idea to brat off to your strict military father.
“Up. All of you up. Zhang, start explaining.”
Zhang phrases it a lot more gently than we did when we plotted our plan, but the king is less impressed and it’s clear that he’s not a fan of our genius.
“No. It was Treyu they punished; therefore it must be Treyu. This is also a lesson for you, Zhang. It’s a fitting punishment. You’ll thank me later when you make angel.”
So now I’m just a fucking punishment? Zhang places a hand on my shoulder and thankfully no sparks fly between us like they did earlier. Good. Maybe it was just static from the old motel room carpet.
“Then, Your Majesty, if I may?” Atlanta speaks up. I can tell it’s hard for him. Atty has no trouble bossing me or an entire army around, but to ask for someone’s hand in marriage? That’s another thing altogether.
The king raises a cool brow.
“I would like to marry Gemini.”
The king wrinkles his snooty nose. “Marry my firstborn son? The crown prince? No. He won’t be marrying a grunt.”
He’s just asking for it. I know he’s king, but my family isn’t chump change. “Mmmph—” A large hand muffles my wrath with a Zhang-sized arm circling me around the waist, preventing me from murdering his father in cold blood. Then I’d bereallyexecuted.
“Sir, why us and not them? If an Orion is good enough for me, then why can’t an Orion be good enough for Gemini?” Zhang asks.
“An Orion isn’t good enough for you, but at least you’re far enough below your siblings that your marriage doesn’t matter to the crown. You’ve shamed me, and I want you to know it. You will be tasked with keeping him in line and now you’ve got the means to do it. The marriage has been arranged, and it stands.”
I spend a lot of time hating on Gemini because he’s a Centaurus, but seeing his lip wobble like it is, does something to me. My brother doesn’t love much outside of his family. Gemini is an exception. I immediately join forces—in my mind—with Gem. Zhang can still go fuck himself.
Atlanta is quietly talking himself out of doing something he won’t be able to take back. Gemini has on what I call his “Crown Prince” face, stoicism etched into every line.
Zhang releases the hand over my mouth, but his iron grip remains around my waist. It’s comforting. For once, I don’t even care about myself. Atlanta’s never happy. The pair of them were happy for five fucking seconds.
“Things have settled down in the Nebuli over this matter. You two will stay and finish what you came here for.” The room relaxes. Maybe we’ll run. Maybe we’ll come up with another plan. “The young Orion is coming with me. There is still the matter of his punishment and if he’s to survive in the Nebuli, he’ll need to drink from the cup.”
Zhang doesn’t release me. His hold tightens. I’m kind of okay with that right now. “Sir, please. Let him stay with us and we’ll bring him home. As his betrothed, I should be there for his punishment and for when he drinks from the cup.”
The king shakes his head. “Unnecessary. To me, boy.”
I can’t believe it. I want to cling to fucking Zhang. That’s how I know this is fucked up. I won’t, though. I’m not a coward. It’s hard work to shake from Zhang’s grip, but he finally lets go.
