Page 143 of Mate of a Monster

“You are perfect for him. I am honored to give you my soul. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, I’ll be safe with you. Rathe will be safe because of you.”

The Isles Kiss blooms wider, the black thorns lifting.

His final breath shudders out of him while the flowers shine. The last thing he sends into the world, before there is nothing left of him but the shell under my hand, is a whisper so tender it flays me alive.

Save him.

The memory ends.

I crash back into myself so hard I nearly vomit.

The cavern spins. My hands are still on Creed’s face. My tears continue dropping onto his skin, onto the black petals, onto the thorns that cradle him like something precious—because he fucking is.

For a second, I can’t separate my grief from his, my rage from his regret, my lungs from the memory of his final breath.

“Creed,” I choke out, though there’s no point in saying his name now. But I need to hear it leave me one more time. “Creed, you stupid, self-sacrificing, royal pain in my fucking ass—”

My voice snaps.

The cavern goes very still.

So still that I notice it instantly.

No rumble in my chest.

No dark hand holding me from the inside.

No velvet threat brushing the back of my mind.

The Nightkin.

Fear slides cold and vicious down my spine.

I straighten slowly, wiping at my face with shaking hands while my heart starts to hammer for an entirely new reason. The soul stone at my temple throbs once, then again, but the familiar masculine presence that should be curled somewhere beneath my ribs has gone silent.

“Beast?”

I push to my feet too fast and sway, catching myself on the cavern wall while the flowers below shiver at the movement.

“Nightkin.”

Still nothing.

The empty space inside me yawns wider.

No.

No, no, no.

The final memory slams into place with fresh horror.

Save him.

Creed fed the island his soul. He fed his fucking soul to give it something back.

To change the balance.

My head jerks toward the mouth of the cavern.