Page 70 of Alien Barbarian's Little Human

I give it a moment’s thought, and the first thing that comes to mind is my father passed out face first in the shrimp cocktail.

“Nope. I’ve got all the important people here, like you. I don’t miss a thing.”

It’s a little bit of a white lie. Of course I miss the opportunity to have my father walk me down the aisle. But that’s what I miss, the opportunity. Not my specific father-person doing the actual walk down the aisle. That’s not something I would ever want.

Besides, I had two good fathers, at least for a while, when I lived my other lives. It’s probably selfish to bitch about this one, especially since I get to live and start a family with my fated mate.

I feel like an idiot for naysaying jalshagar bonds for all those years. The bond is real, and perfect. But even if I didn’t have the jalshagar bond, I feel like Magog and I would have fallen in love anyway. His delightful wide-eyed enjoyment of the galaxy, being a relative newborn is nicely balanced by the wisdom of his past lives. It’s like the best of both worlds.

Jessica’s aunt motions her over. Time for the flower girl to do her job. I take a deep breath and await my cue. It feels claustrophobic inside of the hut. I just want to see my love again. We’ve been apart for the last week, just to increase the anticipation of tonight.

I almost trip over my own feet as I make my way on shaky legs from the hut to the aisle. Tropical hard shelled fruits form the aisle itself. The guests are seated in floating antigrav chairs, which means they can all turn as one when I hit the aisle.

Everyone's eyes fall on me. It’s a heady feeling. I’ve never really had this experience before. I guess I’ve always considered myself a Plain Jane, but the genuine appreciation in the eyes of our friends touches me deeply. I struggle not to cry, smiling instead as I turn my attention to the end of the aisle.

Magog stands there, hands folded in front of him. His red-scaled, ridged face is lit up by the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. His lavender eyes seem to glow with the love of three lifetimes. Even though we’re surrounded by our friends and neighbors, it feels like this moment is just between the two of us.

It takes me a moment to realize I stopped moving when everyone turned to look at me. I smile through the burning shame on my cheeks.

“Hello everyone! Welcome to my party!”

A ripple of laughter rolls through the wedding guests. I make my way toward Magog. Good Heavens, he looks good. Good enough to eat and lick the spoon afterward. No matter what life we led, Magog has always been a freaking stud. Rippling muscles, broad shoulders, and a primal intensity that I find intoxicating.

But this is the best version of Magog. All of his qualities shine through his scarlet scales. This is the man I will spend the rest of my life with. I’m going to have his babies. I feel a tingle down between my legs. Oh yes, lots of babies. I half want to tell everyone to go home and jump on him right here and now.

Judging from the pent up, boiling over anticipation and desire in his purple gaze, Magog feels the same way. When our hands touch, it’s like lightning crackling across my skin, leaving little fires of delight in its wake.

“Don’t try to pretend you haven’t used your cybernetic eye to undress me already,” I say.

He laughs, startling the Kilgari Matron performing our mating ceremony.

“Not I, my love. I would rather let the mystery build until we are alone. Besides, you are lovely to the point of perfection in that dress. Hauntingly beautiful.”

“Aww,” I say, smiling even though I kind of want to cry. “You’re so sweet, Magog. But are you sure you’re not just a little bit curious about what I have on underneath this dress?”

“Perhaps a modicum of curiosity…”

“Ahem,” says the Matron.

“Sorry. Please, don’t let us cramp your style.”

I nod at her sheepishly. She smiles with understanding.

“I was young once, too. Millenia ago, but I really was. Now, let me see if I can remember how this goes… Ahem. A Jalshagar is sometimes called a fated mate, but that is a gross oversimplification. In the Kilgari tongue, it means ‘two bodieswith one soul.’ Nothing makes me happier than acknowledging and celebrating the union of two beautiful souls like Magog and Nerita.”

She lifts her hands to the air, and many of the wedding guests, at least those who follow the precursors, follow suit.

“These souls were first bound as one in the fiery hell pits of Horus IV. But they overcame that darkness, and found their way to the light. And they did not come alone.”

She smiles and gestures to the gallery.

“Many of you in attendance today owe your lives directly to the actions of these brave, compassionate souls. Their love is no mere infatuation or passing fancy. It is the ultimate embodiment of the Precursor’s will. The embodiment of love. Because the Precursors could have destroyed their enemies, but they chose to follow the path of love and compassion instead. This love, meant to bind the galaxy together as one, is the real gift of jalshagar, the gift of the Precursors.”

I’m not a hugely religious person, but after the experiences I’ve had I have no problem joining the chorus of affirmations from the wedding guests.

“Now, for a more human tradition,” the Matron says with a grin. “You may kiss the bride--”

Magog sweeps me into his arms and presses his warm, wonderful mouth on top of my own. The longing sigh that escapes into his breathy exhalations can’t be heard by the wedding guests, but if they could hear it trust me, they would be utterly scandalized.

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