Jenna

JENNA

I ’ve been primped and prodded to within an inch of my life. Admittedly, some of the primping and prodding has been alleviated by a selection of foodstuffs the likes of which I’ve never tasted before and which disappeared very quickly.

Food, it seems, is not rationed here at Starlight Brides.

Starlight Brides ! What the hell am I doing? Why did I agree to any of this? I don’t want to get married to anyone, let alone a male I’ve never met.

I stare up at the stars, bright above me through an expanse of glass…plastic…whatever, and it strikes me I’ve never seen them in this much detail, nor ones which didn’t look familiar.

This is an adventure. Marriage be damned. I’ve got away from Britannia , something I never thought would happen, and I’m finally doing something which will get me a longed for promotion.

Who knows, maybe one day St. John Cholmondeley will cower before me rather than issue threats.

I stand up a little straighter in the “ceremony” room. It’s a cross between a stage and a church, everything dark red or burnt orange in color. From what I’ve been told, our nuptials are something like a civil ceremony, and my husband to be might require me to go through something more formal once we reach his planet.

As to who my husband is, or what species he is, no one has been prepared to say anything, simply telling me it’s a surprise I’ll enjoy.

I don’t believe them for a second.

So, as I wait in the impossibly tight dress, a shimmering blue-green with the hint of iridescent orange, it clings to me like a second skin, sucking in all the bits which need sucking in but leaving breathing a little difficult.

“Here is your husband to be,” Piet leans into me and whispers.

I turn, looking down the long row of empty seats (are they ever filled?) to a door at the far end and a huge creature swaying there.

He is a Glycon, a snake-like species. I’ve seen images of them but never met one. Standing, or rather raised up on his long, sinuous tail, he’s at least seven feet tall, if not taller. Broad in the chest and shoulders, his scales shining in the light and eyes so stunning they appear to glow, he looks as drunk as hell.

I do my best not to run, but one foot slides forward.

“Mine!” The word reverberates around the vast room. It’s a growl and a demand all in one.

My other foot moves as I eye the exit. Piet gives me a look of terror, and that is all the cue I need. I run for it, hiking up the ridiculous dress above my knees as I sprint towards the doorway which leads out into the incredible atrium.

Maybe I can find a ship to get me away from here…away from the monster who wants to marry me. Who already thinks he owns me. Then I lose my grip on the slippery material of my dress, and as I attempt to gather it up, something trips me.

All that goes through my mind as I’m launched into the air is “this is going to hurt,” and I close my eyes, waiting for the slamming of my bones on the hard metal floor.

Instead I hit something softer, something warmer, something…scalier…

“Hello, little mate,” a sinfully dark voice says in my ear. “Are you running from your new husband? Because you need to know, I like it.”