Page 110 of Mate of a Monster

Something cracks behind his eyes. Brief, raw, then gone. His jaw works once before the smirk slides back into place, armor clicking shut.

It’s a petty thing to say, honestly, all things considered. But tell that to my ego.

“I didn’t choose shit,” he hisses. “Creed’s spell chose for me. You already know that.”

He closes the distance once more, and his voice drops low enough that it’s only for me. “So, what are you really angry about, Haide? That I was with her without choice, or that you weren’t fucking strong enough to pull me through it from the start?”

Truth burns through my chest, acid-hot.

I shove him as hard as I can, but he absorbs the blow without moving an inch.

“Fuck you, Legend.”

“Name the time and place, little monster. I’ll clear my schedule.”

A low whistle cuts through the tension behind me.

Zev’s posture is so aggressively relaxed it might as well be a declaration of war. He watches Legend through lidded eyes. Then Sinner.

And Silver.

My best friend is a hungry little ho.

Legend’s attention snaps to him.

“Something to add?” Legend’s voice goes dangerously quiet.

Zev’s mouth twitches. He doesn’t sit up, doesn’t tense, doesn’t do a single thing that says he considers Legend a threat. He lets his gaze drift back and forth between me and Legend, slow and knowing. The smirk spreading across his face is the most deliberately provocative thing I’ve seen since I left Exile.

“Nah.” Zev pops the word. “Just enjoying the show. Maybe I can stand in the dark corner somewhere and watch the one that is bound to happen later?”

Legend’s magic flares and the bond between us spikes with possession.

He studies Zev with laser focus, calculating, likely tracking every point of contact, every shared history, every inside joke written into how easily Zev’s body exists in my space.

Zev knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s known Legend’s type since before we left the island. He doesn’t even have to try. This is just how he exists. Loose and easy and completely unbothered by power dynamics that would make most people piss themselves. He survived Exile by being smarter than the violence around him, and right now, he’s surviving Legend by refusing to play the game at all.

Which, of course, makes Legend want to kill him more.

“Haide.” Legend’s voice turns into a leash, tugging at the bond. “Tell your pet to sit up straight before I break his spine into the correct posture.”

Zev’s eyebrows lift, and he looks at me with theatrical concern. “He always this romantic? No wonder you hate him.”

A laugh punches out of me before I can stop it when a knock sounds at the door, pulling us all out of our—whatever the fuck this was.

Sinner closes the door behind himself, flipping through envelopes. “No one was there, but these were!” He flashes the front toward us, eyes shifting to Zev. “There’s even one for you.”

Creed reaches for his letter first, breaking the wax seal. His face goes blank as he reads the content.

“Oh my fuck. What now?” London rolls her eyes, gripping Knight’s arm.

Legend holds onto both of our envelopes, and he flips it upside down. As soon as he locks into the seal, ice fills the bond. “What. The. Fuck.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Haide

I’m kind of impressed at the level of perfection for this royal garden. Roses and trailing vines, flowers fat and heavy-headed, drunk on their own beauty. Magic-book shit. The kind of place children dream about before they learn pretty things make the best killers.