Page 11 of The Monster's Mate

“You could still scream with my lips locked to yours. But my tongue was distracting.” Skiden waggles his brow at me.

“Disgusting is more like it.”

He uses a tentacle to clutch at his heart.

Maman bops him on top of his head. “You know better than to go kissing strange girls without permission. You could pick up a disease”—she looks over at me— “Sorry. No offense.”

“None taken.” I narrow my eyes, wondering how often he does it.

“I apologize! It was a spur of the moment decision. I’m sorry, Maman.”

“Don’t apologize to your mother.” River rolls her eyes. “Apologize to Lucy.”

He sighs. “But I’m not really sorry. It was my first interracial kiss, you know.”

Four women in the kitchen gasp. Was I… did the kiss mean nothing? I mean, of course it meant nothing.

“Was that awful to say? Interspecies, then.”

“Dear sir!” I mutter, appalled at his lack of apology. “I am not your social experiment.”

“You tell him, sister,” River says.

There’s a grin on his lips. He’s loving this attention. Oddly enough, Maman looks gleeful too.

Weird aliens.

“Who sent you?” Isabel barks, grabbing a rubber spatula and poking him in the rib with it.

“Ack! Bel, you wound me.”

She pokes him again.

He glares at River, my new buddy. “Tiran. The bully.”

“I knew it,” Isabel mutters, and River looks embarrassed. “Ack, I can’t believe he sent you—”

“And Bronan.”

Now it’s Isabel’s turn to flush. She recovers quickly and tries to point the blame at Maman. “Probably checking on his mother,” she says.

“And you,” Skiden insists. “You are the maman of hiskish, you know.”

I can’t help the gasp that falls out of my mouth. Isabel’s a mother?

“They’re not here yet,” Isabel says to me, her hand fluttering to her midsection. “Geez, Sky.”

He’s still grinning goofily at me, staring at my mouth that still hangs open in shock. Ack, he’s making goofy love eyes. The others are going to notice.

I smack him with the dishtowel again.

“I cannot believe your brothers sent you,” Maman says. “They’re older and know better than to manipulate you, my sweetkish.”

So, this is the spoiled one.

“They did,” Skiden says, holding up his hands. “It was two against one. Your own fault, really. For having three. It’s an odd number ofkishren, you see.”

He again speaks to Isabel, as if she’s frequently on his side.

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