Page 12 of Demon Seed (Mated to the Monster: Season 3)

Vesper

I can't shake this feeling that's come over me. It's as if a shadow has settled over my heart. Is something wrong with Selene?

Morrigan continues talking, her lips moving with animation, each word punctuated with a flick of her fingers as she explains the peculiar retreat unfolding outside.

The coven has abruptly ceased their chanting; their voices, once an annoying hum, are now silenced, and they've departed, gathering up their talismans as if fleeing from an unseen force. But as she speaks, her words are quickly drowned out by a relentless dread that creeps up my spine.

"Vesper?" Morrigan's voice cuts through my thoughts, and I notice her gaze fixed on me, her brow furrowing with concern. "Did you hear what I said?"

"Sorry," I mutter as I rub my temples in a futile attempt to dispel this ominous sensation. It feels like a cold hand gripping my chest, squeezing tighter with each passing moment. "I need to find Selene."

"What? Isn’t she sleeping?" Morrigan protests, following me into the hallway.

But I'm already in motion, my feet propelling me with an urgent determination through the cold corridors. Torches lining the walls cast long shadows as I break into a full sprint.

I round the corner to our chamber, lungs burning, and find the door slightly ajar, a sliver of dim light spilling out.

I burst through the doorway, my heart pounding violently against my chest. The bedsheets lie in disarray, twisted and empty, yet still radiating the warmth from where Selene had been sleeping, possibly mere moments ago. Her lingering fragrance fills the room—but she's no longer here.

"Selene?" My voice echoes hollowly in the shadowy room, swallowed by the silence.

No response follows.

The window yawns open, its curtains billowing gently in the night breeze like spectral hands reaching inward. I dash to it, my eyes scanning the grounds below with frantic intensity, but all I see are shadows and moonlight weaving intricate patterns across the garden.

That feeling—that dreadful, gnawing sense of apprehension that gripped me during my conversation with Morrigan—magnifies into an intense, almost tangible pain. I knew I shouldn't have left her alone, not after the arrival of the witches.

Something glistens on the windowsill—a dark, glistening smear that seems to pulse with its own sinister life. My fingers brush against it before my mind fully comprehends the horror of what I’m seeing. It's blood.

"No," I whisper, the word scraping out of my throat like ash, crumbling and dry. "Not my mate.”

I stand amidst the wreckage of what was once my bedroom, my chest heaving with ragged breaths, my knuckles raw and bleeding. Splintered wood and torn fabric are strewn about, like the chaotic aftermath of a violent storm. My storm. The mirror, now a shattered mess, lies in pieces on the floor, each fragment reflecting my face in a hundred fractured images. It's fitting, I think, as I feel just as broken inside.

Selene is gone. My mate’s been taken from me.

The thought pounds relentlessly in my head, echoing with every heartbeat. They took her. They took her, and I wasn't there to stop them.

I kick aside the shattered remains of my nightstand, and a metallic object skitters across the floor—her amulet. I snatch it up, clutching it tightly until the sharp edges dig painfully into my palm, a reminder of what I've lost.

"I will find you," I whisper, my voice barely audible, as if somehow the wind might carry my words across the vast, invisible chasm that now separates us. "I swear it."

A soft knock echoes through the room, but I remain silent. The door creaks open anyway, revealing Morrigan as she steps inside with deliberate grace. Her eyes sweep over the wreckage with a composed, knowing expression, as if she expected nothing less.

"Are you finished?" she inquires, her voice infuriatingly serene, slicing through the tension like a blade.

I turn my back on her, slipping the pendant into my pocket with a determined grip. "They'll pay for this." I seethe with rage.

"Yes," she concurs, her voice steady yet compassionate. "They will. But destroying your possessions won't bring her back."

"What would you have me do?" I snarl, my anger barely contained as I whip around to face her. "Sit quietly and wait while they—" My voice falters, choked by the terror of never seeing my mate again.

Morrigan's gaze softens, her eyes a gentle pool of understanding. "I would have you plan. Think. Use that sharp mind of yours instead of just your rage." She navigates the chaos with deliberate steps, the debris crunching softly beneath her feet. Her hand reaches for an object partially concealed beneath the wreckage of my toppled bookshelf—a tome about the Divine Peaks, its cover marred but still intact.

"We’ll have to break the spell that guards the summit," she continues, her voice a blend of determination and urgency. "If that's where they've taken her, we’ll need Queen Isolde."

I draw in a deep breath, the crisp, cold air slicing through the fog of my anger with a refreshing clarity. "Isolde?" I echo, my voice tinged with skepticism. "Why would she help us?"

Morrigan’s smile, as keen and dangerous as a freshly honed blade, spreads across her face. "Let’s just say her daughter owes me a favor.”