Page 66 of Mate of a Monster

Sensing my gaze, she lifts her head toward me. I can’t tell whether my muscles lock because having her in the room with us is strategically necessary.

Or because some traitorous part of me demands to keep her in my reach.

If she is behind this, we will find out.

And if she isn’t…

What exactly does that change, if anything at all?

Chapter Fourteen

Haide

“So.” I lean back, crossing one boot over my knee as the last gifted clears the room, leaving only me, the royal crew, and the blonde twat. “You want to talk about what caused the flood, or are we pretending I’m the problem?”

“Sit the fuck down if you’re staying,” Legend warns, his voice low.

“No.” I turn to his brothers, sick of looking at his face. “Someone started that flood. I didn’t.”

“I think we know that,” Vicente murmurs, without a single snarl. When my eyes land on him, his head dips. “Thank you, Haide. You did well today.”

My shoulders fall and my brows knit.

This is the first time I’ve ever felt any kind of… I don’t know what it is, but I don’t hate it. The corner of my mouth twitches slightly, and his chin dips a little more.

“This is not happening! This is what she wants you to think!” Arabella screeches. “She flooded the academy herself.” Her hand slaps the table, rings clinking against the wood. “Think about the timing. Look at how she’s acting, like—”

“Oh, shut up.” London’s voice cuts through every other sound.

Arabella’s chin snaps toward her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” London’s eyes land on hers, and she leans back in her chair. “You keep running your mouth, and it’s annoying. Blaming her once again when you weren’t even there and have no proof.”

“I don’t need to be there.” Arabella’s voice pitches up. Oh no, the princess is being challenged. “And the proof is in what she is. She is a witch and a liar!”

“And what are you?” London challenges, lifting a brow. “Innocent? Good?” She pauses. “Real?”

The last word lands heavily, warping the silence. I straighten. This exchange has suddenly become interesting. Arabella’s lips press into a thin line. “She is going to be your downfall, and every single one of you refuses to see it!”

“You know what?” London tests the word, her chair scraping against the ground as she stands. “I’m about a fucking—”

Legend cuts between them. “Arabella—”

Arabella’s eyes blink on Legend, and I see it. Right there. When they shift from fight to plead. “She hurt you, Legend, and she tried to kill me.” She turns wholly to him, lips trembling. “She has tried to kill me twice and you are all treating her like—”

“Unless you wanna fight a royal fucking demon?” Legend gestures to London. “You’re gonna need to shut. Up.”

Arabella continues speaking over him with increasing volume. How the fuck can she get louder?

Legend bites back at something she says until Vicente intercedes. Knight attempts to pull London back, only to be shoved backward, while Sinner drags a hand down his face.

It’s all fucking hilarious.

I consider asking for a snack to really enjoy the show, but that would mean interrupting them, and I’m way too entertained for that. Movement beyond the table catches my attention and I look up.

Creed stands in the corner, half-swallowed by shadow, his back against the wall with his arms crossed. He presses a finger against his lips, gently nudging his head toward the door. A quick glance at the others shows they’re too distracted by their own drama to notice anything else.

Creed carefully slips out the door.