Page 136 of Mate of a Monster

“Legend—”

“Something’s here.” His voice comes out rough, and his hand finds the hilt of his blade. “Something—”

Water rolls in low, unnatural waves across the ravine floor, then it starts to gather, to thicken, pulling itself upward in a shape from saltwater, siren magic, and rot. My nails dig into my palms, my entire body knowing before my brain catches up.

She steps out of it like she was born from the water.

Arabella.

Dark water clings to her in ribbons, sliding from every inch of her—her hair, her gown, her fucking fingertips. Pale Argent light bends the air around her, ivory and pearled, before it spills over the ravine. She doesn’t look angry, desperate, or even all that interested.

She looks patient.

“Hello, Haide.” Her voice carries across the ravine like she’s greeting an old friend. “Took you an awful long time to catch up.”

“Arabella.”

“You’ve been busy.” Her lips curve. “I almost admire it.”

“Where’s the rest of your army?” Zev calls from behind me, blades spinning lazily in his grip. “Too scared to come play?”

Arabella’s gaze slides to him, and something flickers in her expression.

“The exile boy,” she says, and is that a fucking smirk I see? “The one who likes to kill for sport. How interesting.”

Zev’s grin sharpens. “You should see what else I can do.”

“Zev.” Creed’s voice cuts low, a warning. “Not yet.”

Arabella’s attention shifts to Creed, and her smile widens. “And the architect himself. The one who built the beautiful, fragile thing that kept Legend tethered to me for so long.” She presses a hand to her chest mockingly. “I never properly thanked you for that.”

Creed’s jaw tightens.

“The bond was a mistake,” he says, voice flat. “One I intend to correct.”

“Oh, I know.” Arabella’s eyes gleam. “That’s why I improved it.”

Everyone fucking stops.

The Nightkin surges against my chest with enough force that I stagger, and a sound tears out of my throat that isn’t quite human.

“She kept a piece. She kept a PIECE—”

“Haide!” Legend catches my arm, steadying me, but his touch feels distant now, muffled by the roar of blood in my ears.

Arabella watches me with curiosity. “You feel it, don’t you? The thread that shouldn’t be there.” She takes a step forward, and the dark water around her shifts, pooling at her feet like a living thing. “I wondered if you would. The mating bond is so…intimate. So invasive.” Her smile turns sharp. “You must feel everything he feels. Even the parts of him that still belong to me.”

Legend goes rigid beside me.

The bond screams.

“Thank you for bringing him to me,” she practically sings.

I feel it now, feel what the Nightkin recognized before I did—a thin thread through Legend’s chest, buried so deep it’s almost invisible. It doesn’t pulse with the warm gold of our mating bond. It pulses pale and cold, Argent light wrapped around his heart.

“That’s not possible.” My voice comes out strangled. “The mage broke it. I watched it break.”

Arabella laughs, and the sound is worse than any threat she could make.