Page 87 of Bride of Choice

I knew those horns. I’d touched them, grabbed them- Those belonged to Fuck N Run.

Why did Bum-bum have Fuck N Run’s horns?

My stomach twisted as I scrambled to put the lid on the box and pretend I hadn’t seen a damned thing.

What did it mean?!

No. Don’t even think it. I couldn’t. Nuh-uh. Don’t wanna. Shut up, brain!

No. Bum-bum wouldn’t- He- He didn’t need them. I had an inkling, but the hysterical part of me needed to play this out a bit longer.

Why would he steal Cuddle Monster’s horns? Princess Hysterics blubbered, while Rational Joanie murmured, Honey, you know why.

But I didn’t want to!

Queasiness had my belly flip flopping. Animal horns made up the light fixture over my head. It looked like it was powered by some sort of strange substance, like a glowing fungus, kept in the jars where lightbulbs or candles would have been placed if a human had made it. I’d never seen anything like it before.

The detail on the fixture was so intricate. The horns each had delicate carvings in them, stained to show off all the teeny tiny shapes leaping out from them. Leaves, animals, trees, even Yeti looking shapes, spread out across those horns. The light cast an eerie glow on the dark stain, like it wasn’t quite a happy tale.

He’d stolen them. For, like, a project, Princess Hysterics babbled.

No, dummy. No. Wake up, Rational Joanie tutted.

He wouldn’t do that, though… Not to a beastie that’s so like him. That would be, like, murder, then, right?

Maybe back on Earth… but we aren’t on Earth anymore. Eat or be eaten.

My Cuddle Monster wasn’t a monster, not really. Bum-bum wouldn’t. He only hunted bad guys and animals. Cuddle Monster had made a dick move in the end there but up until then shit had been going swimmingly.

Okay, it hadn’t, but right before ditching me we’d totally found our groove. Or so I’d thought.

Thinking of Bum asking me over and over if I was hurt back then on the day he found me, my blood ran cold.

I couldn’t just sit here, warming myself by his fire, not knowing if he’d killed my mate or not, could I?

Standing, carefully folding his blanket to set it in his chair, I had to ask myself if standing by my morals was worth the potential run in with a Krampus. And for something I wasn’t even absolutely certain of. Or pissing off a very big and powerful Lo denaii who was more than capable of grinding my bones to dust…

Had my cuddle buddy been killed and that’s why he couldn’t come back to me?

Would Bum-bum really do that? Could he be so cold blooded?

Spying several more small crates on the side of the end table, I went for broke and began lifting lids. One had weird metal pieces in it, another those pink tea flowers I loved so much, that he looked to be propagating indoors, a tiny garden of sorts. The last was filled with pretty, swirly patterned white and blue vases. They were in all sorts of shapes and sizes.

My body went numb as I stared into that last box. The vase… the flowers…

The vase in my hut was a perfect match for both.

My breath left me in a soft whoosh and a wave of dizziness fell over me.

Had Bum been trying to secretly court me and saw Cuddle monster as a threat? Had my eccentric, wild mate been… I couldn’t even think it.

I’d almost rather think Cuddle Monster had ditched me.

Bum chose that moment to swiftly unlock the door and pop inside, which didn’t give me enough time to pretend I wasn’t rifling through his shit like a nosy bitch.

“Uhm… so… I touchied,” I blurted, staring at him, wide-eyed. Did I really know Bum-bum? Or did I just think I did?

Bum got one look at my face, his gaze slowly traveling from my caught red handed, fish mouthed gape to the lid of one of the crates in my hand, to said crates.

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