Page 51 of Mate of a Monster

My magic doesn’t spike or lash out in defense. It tightens again, coiling in my spine, pressing outward like it’s waiting for instruction—but for what?

“Legend, you should go.” There’s no brotherly softness in Creed’s tone. “Let me handle this.”

The gifted’s gaze doesn’t leave mine. “What was lost has been found. What was stolen has been claimed.”

My fingers curl slightly at my sides.

Knight shifts his weight and Sinner straightens off the wall. They’ve been so silent I nearly forgot they were here.

“Found what?” Arabella demands.

The gifted’s lips twitch. “Do you know the answer, King Legend?”

My pulse hits hard against my temples, an ache digging deep into my bones, and I swear it feels like a hollow cavity rotting deeper. I keep my focus locked on the male. “Explain.”

He exhales slowly, as if savoring the moment. “You think you served punishment, but you didn’t,” he continues, voice rough but gaining strength. “You did exactly what fate intended you to do.”

Arabella stiffens behind me and my brothers are at my side in an instant.

The gifted tilts his head. “It’s only a matter of time now.”

“Until what?”

“Until fate wins. And fate. Always. Wins.”

The hellhound leashes flare again as his back arches slightly, but he doesn’t cry out. He smiles, blood wet along his teeth. “They’re here,” he whispers.

I jerk forward. “Who?”

He ignores me, his attention on Arabella. “I hope you like the color red,” he murmurs. No sooner do the words leave his lips than the sirens sound, the castle erupting in chaos around us. “She sure does.”

My face falls instantly.

And then I’m tearing through the fucking castle like it’s the last thing I might ever do.

I don’t know where I’m going, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Rather than leashing my instincts like I have been doing for fucking days—maybe even weeks—I let them fucking free to take control.

I break out the castle doors, pushing right into the chaos of at least a hundred fucking guards who immediately step out of the way. And on the other side.

Her.

Chapter Eleven

Haide

There he is. Legend Deveraux. Youngest King of Rathe.

My fated mate.

Even thinking the words hurts. But I know now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that that’s who he is. Mine.

Every line of his face is sharpened with fury. His eyes burn like he’s ready to kill—and I am the impending victim.

“Beast.” What is this feeling? Panic? Longing?

“Calm, Little Hellpet.”

“That’s fucking hilarious,” I whisper, and that tiny use of my lungs presses against my bones so hard I’d swear my chest plate is cracking open.