Page 93 of Mate of a Monster

Fine.

I let the power shift. It’s a small thing, barely a redirection, but I feel it move through me. The chaos bends and curves, sliding through the writhing bodies on the floor, past the sounds of skin and desperation—straight toward Arabella.

The moment it touches her, her spine arches.

Her lips part on a gasp that has nothing to do with fear. Her fingers twitch at her sides, and I watch them curl, watch her nails dig into her own palms hard enough to leave crescents.

“Haide,” Legend snarls, almost enough to snap me out of my self-induced chaos.

I cackle under my breath.

Arabella’s glassy eyes find mine, her pupils blown wide enough that the blue is barely a ring around all that black.

She looks hungry.

She looks exactly like what she is underneath all that light—under all that pretense.

“Stop,” Legend grinds out, but his voice is strained, fists trembling at his side. I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his whole body is fighting against something he doesn’t want to name.

“Stop what?” I ask, all innocence. “Like what part?”

Arabella’s shaky hand reaches toward the nearest body—a guard who’s already on his knees, his mouth hanging open as he stares at her like she’s the food he’s been starved of.

“Legend,” she whimpers. Interesting. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t so much as shift his focus from me.

I take the first step. “Your mate looks distressed, Lege.”

His lip curls, but he doesn’t disengage. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Another step, head tilting. “Maybe you should check on her?” I heighten my voice, all sweet like.

The Nightkin chuckles. “He sees you, Hellpet. You’re doing so good.”

My smile spreads.

Knight hasn’t moved. He stands at the edge of the dais, arms crossed, amusement curves his mouth, subtle but there.

London’s whole body vibrates with the effort of keeping her laugh contained.

Sinner lingers in the shadows near one of the bone arches, tracking every movement. Chaos spreads across his face, like he’s calculating exactly how to add his own piece to this game.

None of them stop me, but then again, why would they? They know what they did, and I’m the only one who can fix their mistakes.

Legend rises to his full height.

Everything else keeps moving around us, bodies and noise bleeding together into nothing. To me, there’s just him and the bond to him that doesn’t exist burning through my brain.

He takes one step forward.

Then another.

I don’t move. I don’t breathe. I just stand there with Zev and the Nightkin laughing low in my chest, waiting for whatever comes next.

His eyes drop to my mouth.

Then lower, to where Zev’s fingers splay across my abdomen. Something flashes across his face. It’s quick and brutal, and it looks almost like grief.

“Haide,” he says again, but softer this time.