Page 37 of Mate of a Monster

Creed clamps a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll figure this out. Why don’t you go see if your dad’s arrived yet?”

“Like what?” I push.

“Go see if your dad has arrived.” Creed stands tall.

My jaw tightens as Silver leaves the room. “What the fuck, Creed?”

“We have no answers yet, Legend.”

“No, we have no answers. You have something, and you’re keeping tight-lipped. That’s bullshit.”

“I want to make sure the facts are right. When they are—”

Surprisingly, it’s Knight who steps forward. “You don’t get to make every decision, Creed. “We followed your lead last time because you were so sure, but we feel the change. A mistake has been made. Say it.”

“Knight,” Creed warns.

“Don’t Knight me, brother.”

“What am I missing?” I step between the two but neither glance my way, their jaws clenched as their magic presses against each other. “Does it have something to do with the fact that he’s clearly from fucking exile?”

That does it. All three snap their heads my way and a humorless laugh escapes me.

“You didn’t seriously think I wouldn’t notice? I’m bonded, not fucking blind. Even if I were, I can smell her all fucking over him. And if Silver can sense his magic, but found none? Yeah. If that doesn’t scream I came from a place where magic is leashed, I don’t know what does.”

“We don’t know what any of this means,” Creed rushes.

Sinner scoffs. “It means we fucked up and it’s your fault.”

“Fucked up what?”

“Yeah, Creed, fucked up what?” Sinner challenges.

“Enough.” Creed’s cold stare is eerily similar to our father’s—one that promises an ass whooping. My oldest brother looks to me. “He may be from there, but we don’t know why or how he’s here.”

I glare at the gifted on the table, hating that he even exists and not knowing why. But still, my magic doesn’t rise in defense.

This gifted has touched her skin. I need to know why, when, and fucking where his hands have been, if only so I know before I cut them from his body.

“Tell me when it’s time to beat the answers from his skull,” I demand, feet already carrying me wherever the hell my subconscious has decided to go.

Back to the garden. Whispers graze the inside of my skull, vibrating along bone. My head snaps toward the fountain, then toward the hedgerow, searching for movement. Nothing shifts except the leaves. The whispers come again, closer now, but they don’t just whirl around me. They curl through me.

I spot the gifted’s mask, forgotten on the ground four feet from me. A sheen of gold flickers beneath the surface, and my eyes narrow. The pull in my chest sharpens in response.

The gold pulses again, and something inside me answers. My hand extends without permission, fingers closing around its edge, and heat seeps into my palm with a fierce sense of familiarity.

The warmth travels up my arm and behind my ribs, spreading through muscle and marrow until something deep beneath my sternum parts and allows power to rush inward.

The constant restless edge beneath my magic eases into a steady, resonant hum, like a blade sliding back into its proper sheath after months of being held too tight.

I press my palm over the inside pocket of my jacket, checking the shape of the item tucked there before yanking it away with a growl.

I inhale as my vision deepens.

I feel taller without moving, grounded and lifted at once.

My eyes flare as my pulse picks up.