Page 296 of Bride of Choice

“Don’t touch me!” I snapped, slapping his hands away.

“Hurt! You nose bleed,” he grumbled, actually daring to look hurt that I’d shoved his help off.

“Fuck off! I’m fine!” Ugh. My nose so did not feel fine. It felt broken. Grabbing out the cloth I kept in my pocket, I dabbed at my upper lip. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I glared at him. “See? Dis is bwat yube dwo. Woo-en, eberyting. Jwust weeb me awone.”

“Jo?”

Like the king of the worst fucking timing ever, Gopher rushed up to grab Rek and toss him clean out of his way.

Rek barked what I assumed were curse words in Lo deanii as he flew and landed in a heap of fishing baskets neatly lined up along the side of a hut nearby.

Like the perpetual tail I was told she was, his woman, whats-er-face, ran after him. I’d call her his whore but that seemed a bit overkill. He was the whore! That whore!

“Dode jwust shwo up and agt like eb’ryfing is fined. Yube just kweep misabearing and shwowing up an then agting like iss all fwine. Welw, iss not!” I garbled out as I glared at him through my fingers pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Jo-” Gopher looked torn and I just didn’t have anything left in me for anymore drama.

“I weft yoow a note, dumping yoow. I’b done.” Turning to leave him, trying to be a heartless monster and pretend the devastated look on his face wasn’t eating me up alive, that’s when I caught sight of them peeking around the side of his hut. Slim and tall, oddly beautiful if I was being honest, I stopped and gaped at the gaggle of Yeti women. “Yoow fwucking abs-hole!” I burst out, whipping around to jab an accusing finger at him, then at the furry womenfolk. “Whoo the fwuck ar they gwopefur? Huh?!!”

Frowning, keeping himself safely out of jabbing range, Gopher followed my accusatory digit pointing towards his place. His eyes widened and he cursed, a word in Lo denaii I actually recognized and considered the equivalent of fuck or shit leaving him.

“Yeah. Nwice,” I snapped. “Emjwoy your hared-em,” I angrily congratulated him before leaving him rushing towards them, barking at them, to stop, come running towards me with mumbled nonsense garbling from his lips and hands held out as if looking for some type of forgiveness I didn’t have in me. “Swave it. I’b nod soop-rised eddymore.”

“But- JO!” He was practically howling as he motioned for the furry womenfolk to get out of sight. He was oddly frantic about it.

Whatever. That’s his deal. Not mine. Not anymore. Right?

With one thing and one thing only on my mind, I took off for Celuk’s. He had some major fucking explaining to do!

Chapter 37

Celuk was not home. Baby was gone. I cried the whole way back to the village. What had happened?! And he hadn’t told me?!!

The more I reminded myself I’d been ignoring him and he very well could have been trying to tell me but, yeah, I’d been ignoring him, the more it ate at me.

“Oh my- What’s happened to you?” Dorothy caught sight of me passing her place on my way back into town from Celuk’s, nose swollen to hell, blood staining my clothes, eyes swollen from crying. She couldn’t get to me fast enough.

“I fell,” I deadpanned, too worried about Baby to care or try to explain. “Do you know where Celuk is?” I mumbled as she ushered me into the house, shouting the place down as we came in through the back door. “I just came from his place. Baby’s gone. He’s not there.” Holding up the horn in one hand, I wiped my eyes on my jacket sleeve with the other.

“I- I don’t know, but let me get you some tea and cleaned up and we’ll see if we can’t find him for you.” Walking me over to their couch, she took off mumbling under her breath about hot tea, water, disinfectant, snow for swelling, and towels.

Mosoau walked in the front door with Doogie trailing him, chattering like magpies.

They paused, glanced my way, continued for a moment before pausing to backtrack and gape. “What happens?” Mosoau barked, his upper lip curling until his fangs were bared.

“I fell,” I said simply, gaze darting between them. “Have you seen Celuk?”

“Celuk at Sorak’s,” Doogie replied absently, eyeing my swollen nose. Gesturing at his own mug, his face scrunched up. “Who get in fights with Jo?”

“Who is Sorak?” I asked Mosoau, ignoring his son.

“Monoed-siren. Offed-world-er, him say himself. Hornied head, horse-need-man. Raise horn-head beasts,” Mosoau grumbled softly.

I knew that place. Standing, I mumbled, “Right. Thanks.”

I was just running out the front door as Dorothy rushed in. “Now, where’s she off to?” I could hear her ask them.

The Unicorn man. That’s where Celuk was.

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