16. Margo

16

MARGO

T he night went by in a blur of love-making and confession, telling tales of childhood and divulging dreams. They talked about where they might live, what the future could hold, how many children they wanted, what their favorite foods and flowers were. They conversed naturally, comfortable and cozy in Bruno's giant bed, until they feel asleep almost in unison.

Margo came awake first, and she could feel the warmth of Eva in her arms, and the tickle of her hair on her face. Behind her, Bruno tucked them both close. It was sticky in the space where they met, and Margo longed for the smell of her mates. She could only guess at Eva's delicate perfume and Bruno's musk. The scent of sex must be so wonderful and rich, the way it was written in books, but the descriptions always assumed a certain amount of base understanding. Roses and incense and cedar. It begged the question of what she smelled like, and whether it was pleasant.

She had never cared to be pleasant before.

She wanted to be efficient, logical, strong, and essentially useful. She knew she could never be less than monstrous, and strove to make up for it with functionality.

But now she wished with all of her heart to be the kind of person that these two, one that she had craved for so long, the other that had swept her off of her considerable feet with a single glance, would desire to be with.

Not because she was bound by destiny or magic, but because they found in her the kind of joy she found in them.

Intoxicating, wild, wonderful joy, like she'd never imagined possible. Bruno's strong arms. Eva's soft lips. She wanted to be here, forever, in this perfect moment of comfort and release.

But doubts crept in as the moment of passion ebbed into exhaustion. Bruno and Eva had so much to recommend them. Her fae beauty and gentleness. His strength and ruggedness and handsome face. But what was Margo in this union?

Was she a third wheel?

Eva was still and limp in her arms, and Bruno's breath was steady and nearly a snore.

Margo extracted herself carefully. Without her between them, Bruno and Eva sighed into each other without truly waking.

She padded into the attached bathroom and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Bruno's house was built to his height, and she could see herself clearly, without having to hunch down like she did in her own house.

I am a monster , she thought, but it was with less conviction than before. Did Bruno and Eva truly see something there that they could love? The idea filled Margo with hope and a warm sense of belonging.

She went back to the bedroom door and gazed in, smiling tenderly. Kind, precious Eva and strong, sexy Bruno. They were hers.

Margo was ready to turn back to the bathroom and see if Bruno's monstrous shower was as luxurious as it looked when there was a sudden crackle to the air, like the shift in pressure before a thunderstorm. The hair at the back of her neck and her arms suddenly rose. It wasn't a sound or a light, at first, though Margo felt as if her vision was going black. She blinked, and Eva was gone, Bruno's arm and the blanket over them collapsing.