Page 14 of Mate of a Monster

Is he…training them?

And for what? Shits and giggles? Cause that’s the most action we get around here that doesn’t come from our own blades.

Zev moves past me so fast I flinch. He crosses the marble in measured strides and grabs the injured fighter by the ankles, dragging him toward a door at the far end.

I watch Zev’s back disappear and wait for the Nightkin to react, but he doesn’t even move. Doesn’t blink. Those red eyes stay fixed on the empty space where the gifted was, like the fact that an exile just showed restraint is expected and not a complete fucking anomaly.

I open my mouth.

Not impressed, Hellpet?

The voice slides into my skull like curdled oil. No sound. No lips moving. Just words pressing into my mind, settling there with a weight that almost feels like home.

My jaw locks. My fingers twitch toward the dagger I don’t have anymore.

“Fuck you.” I shove the thought back at him, hard, picturing it like a fist straight to his face. “What’d you do to my island?”

His head tilts, so slowly the horns catch light and throw shadows across the marble. One massive hand unfolds from behind his back, and a single claw taps against his forearm. Patient. Like I’m a child throwing a tantrum.

Your island, he murmurs in my head, amused. Interesting claim from someone I had to go to extreme measures to ensure she return.

My blood heats.

The Nightkin’s gaze finally shifts to me. He takes one step forward and the marble groans under his weight.

I hold my ground. Barely.

What do you feel, Hellpet? His voice purrs through my body.

“I feel a lot of things right now,” I say out loud, because fuck his little mind games. My voice bounces off the walls and the fighter’s head snaps toward me. First sign of life.

His grunt comes through my thoughts, and I feel the fight in me slip.

Let go, Hellpet. Let me in and let go.

The command rolls through my skull like thunder, and something in my chest cracks open. Warmth floods my veins, thick and slow, like honey mixed with poison. My knees tremble.

Stop it, I demand mentally, but the walls built around me start to crumble. Get out of my fucking head.

His laugh scrapes through my mind, dark and amused.

I’m not in your head. I’m in your blood, in your soul. There’s a difference.

My hands ball into fists, sending a prickle of warmth crawling up my spine. My muscles go slack. My jaw unclenches.

I want to let go.

The thought scares me more than his horns or his claws.

There it is, he murmurs, satisfaction coating each word. That beautiful surrender. You’ve been fighting so long you’ve forgotten what it feels like to stop.

I lock my knees, digging my boots into the ground, fighting the pull with everything I have left.

“You’re a monster.” The words rip from my throat, raw and desperate. “I won’t—”

One second he’s across the courtyard, the next his shadow swallows me whole. Red eyes bore into mine from inches away.

Monster? His claw trails up my arm in a slow sweep, right up to the side of my neck. It stops beneath my chin, forcing me to look up at him. That is a far too polite term for what I am.