Page 134 of Mate of a Monster

The ocean moves in the distance, a wall of dark water surging up from the shoreline and rising fast, churning black like the sea itself is trying to climb onto the island.

“Fuck,” I breathe.

The water races toward the cliffs.

“It’s going to drown them all,” Creed says, eyes wide. “They’ll all go back to Rathe at once. She’s starting war on our own grounds. She bet on us coming here.”

Knight turns toward the horizon. “Link Vicente. Tell him to call any strong enough to fight. Time for our people to stand up.”

The water crashes against the rocks below, climbing higher.

Legend faces me. “What do we do, mate?”

“What we came here to do: get to the stones.”

“And then?”

Yeah…and then?

I don’t voice it but, judging by his growl, he heard it just the same. “Time to run.”

We tear deeper into the island, boots pounding over rock and ash while scattered exiles keep lunging at us from behind ruined cliffs and broken structures. We fight our way through, running ahead until my body bounces against some invisible force and I hit the ground flat on my back. “The fuck—”

A warm, salty taste fills my mouth. With a wince, I touch my tender nose, and my fingers come back red. Legend falls beside me, murder in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” I promise.

“You’re fucking bleeding.”

London crouches beside the space in front of us, eyes narrowing.

“It’s a barrier,” she says.

I push myself up. “Same power as you?”

She nods slowly. “Yeah.”

“Can you take it down?”

She rolls her shoulders. “Let’s find out.”

London steps forward and presses both palms against the empty air.

For a second nothing happens, but then her eyes go black as her royal demon, her Ethos born of her bond with Knight, rises. Instantly, the barrier ripples like disturbed water. Power surges through her arms, lighting faint black veins across her skin. The pressure in the air spikes, and she grits her teeth as the barrier trembles. “Almost.”

Blood drips from her nose.

Knight notices immediately. “London—”

She ignores him, pushing harder, prepared to fully drain herself if necessary.

The barrier cracks with a low humming sound and shatters, but London collapses with it.

Knight catches her before she hits the ground. “Hey—hey—” His voice breaks in a way I’ve never heard before. He turns to us with clear panic written across his face, torn between two instincts ripping him apart: Not wanting to leave his brothers in a fight, but needing to protect his mate.

“Mate first.” Surprisingly, it’s Creed who makes the statement. “Always.”

“I’ll be back once she’s healed.” Knight frowns.