Page 34 of Mate of a Monster

“It’s…angry.”

“What is?” Creed pushes.

“I don’t know.” My throat tightens so hard it hurts. “But I think I’m supposed to.”

I don’t have the words for the feeling clawing up my spine; it’s a million things braided together. A branding that belongs.

A bond trying to wake up in the wrong place.

“Creed…”

“Get your hand off it.”

I don’t because I can’t.

The moment I try, that invisible hook sinks deeper beneath my ribs and yanks. The image flashes through my mind—dark hair, a mouth twisted in defiance, and eyes so green they fucking glitter.

My stomach turns.

I push up to my feet fast, rage snapping back into place, and I welcome it. Anything is better than that. I stalk toward my brother until we’re chest to chest.

“I’m not blocking you out,” I say low, each word measured like a blade. “If you can’t get in, it’s not because I shut a door, Creed. It’s because something else is holding the fucking handle.”

Creed stiffens. For a heartbeat, I think he might tell me what he saw in that dragon’s head, but before he can get a word out, the garden answers instead.

A sound cracks through the air like thunder splitting stone. Dragons. It’s my first suspicion. Creed’s, too, judging by the way his attention darts to the sky. But it’s clear, the galaxy is steady.

The fucking ground vibrates under our boots, the iron gate rattling as if something massive just slammed into the realm from the other side.

Creed whips around, power flashing at his fingertips, and I spin with him just in time to witness a portal tear open in the middle of Mother’s garden.

It isn’t the clean, circular slice of magic we use. There’s no shimmer before a gateway appears. This shit bursts into existence.

Flame explodes outward first, a violent shove of heat and smoke that scorches the grass and curls the petals beneath, as if rot fertilizes the beauty of it.

The portal’s opening is jagged, unstable, its edges burning gold and black. But that’s not the oddest part. It’s the fucking flame behind it.

Something materialized in the center, a dark figure.

We brace for a fight, hands ready and power cracking between, the royal grounds unleashing demonic smoke surging toward us, desperate to protect its kings.

The portal spits out a body at our feet with a sickening thud and snaps closed.

I pause. Who the fuck is this? A dark metal mask covers his face, his hand covering his abdomen, where blood seeps through his fingers and stains the grass.

My gaze locks on the makeshift weapon sticking out of his gut. It’s a broken branch, and I reach forward, tearing the torn top from his chest.

The man coughs, gurgling, and the sound rips through the garden’s unnatural quiet.

“He’s alive!” I yell over my shoulder. “We need Silver!”

“We don’t even know—”

“And we won’t if we can’t integrate him!” I snap. “For once, Creed, stop trying to make the decisions and fucking listen!”

The masked man’s head tilts a fraction in our direction.

“Stay fucking still or I’ll finish you off,” I growl.