Page 15 of Kael (Monsters & Mates #2)

CHAPTER

SEVEN

Heat clings to my skin, comforting in a way that makes me snuggle deeper.

Awareness comes slowly, a gentle unfurling rather than a jarring snap into consciousness.

I feel… good? Which is weird as hell. My body is loose, my mind foggy but not in a poisoned way, more in a cosy, don’t-want-to-move-ever-again kind of way.

It’s nice.

It’s warm.

It’s—

Oh fuck.

The second I become fully aware, I also become horrifically aware of the fact that I’m not alone. There’s a body beneath me. A strong, solid, immensely large body that’s currently functioning as both my mattress and my pillow.

I still. My breathing changes. And I know—I just fucking know—that Kael notices.

The Glowranth’s senses are too sharp not to. He hears things before they happen, scents changes in the air like a bloodhound, and yet?—

He doesn’t say anything.

I can hear his soft, measured breathing beneath me, feel the slow rise and fall of his chest against mine, but he doesn’t move. And fuck me dead—I’m the one wrapped around him.

My arm is draped over his chest, my leg tangled between his massive thighs. One of my hands is currently resting over his heart—assuming that’s where his heart is—like we’re some sickly sweet romance novel couple who fell asleep gazing at the stars.

And then his words slam into me like a goddamn freight train.

You’re my mate.

I go rigid.

My. Mate.

I have a mate.

Longing surges through me, hot and dizzying, my chest tightening with something too big to name. My gut clenches, my breath hitches, and for a moment—a brief, treacherous moment—I feel something close to bliss.

And then?

Reality backhands me across the face.

I’ve been here for years. Many, many cycles. If I had to guess? At least a couple of years, maybe more.

And Kael?—

Kael would have known.

The second I was sliced into Terrafeara, the moment I bled onto this monstrous fucking world, he would have felt me. He would have sensed it—just like the prince did with Dawson.

And yet.

He didn’t come for me.

He didn’t find me.

He didn’t fight for me.

What the actual fuck!

I react on pure rage-fuelled instinct, launching myself off him so fast, I stumble getting upright.

As I suspected, Kael is already awake. Of course he is. His eyes track every move I make, assessing, calculating, waiting.

Waiting .

And fuck if that doesn’t just piss me off even more.

“You knew.” The words rip from my throat, raw and furious, edged with something dangerously close to betrayal. “All this time, you fucking knew.”

Kael doesn’t speak. He just watches me, his face stoic, his markings dimming and flaring like they can’t decide if they should give away whatever the hell he’s feeling.

I shake my head, my vision swimming, my chest tight. There’s a pit inside me, a familiar one, deep and dark and gaping, the same one that’s been there since I was a kid. The one made of loneliness, of never being good enough, of never being wanted.

It threatens to roll me, to swallow me whole?—

But fuck that.

Kael moves. Not fast. Slowly. Like he’s waiting to see if I’ll bolt. Or maybe even stab him.

Honestly? I consider both.

I cross my arms, shoving all my hurt and rage behind a brittle shield of indifference. “Well?”

His lips part. He hesitates before he finally says, “I wasn’t looking for a mate.”

The words punch through me. A direct hit, right in the gut. My stomach twists, nausea clawing its way up my throat.

Didn’t look for me.

Didn’t want me.

I force my spine to steel, even as my entire fucking soul crumples in on itself. “Fuck you,” I say, my voice steady, my tone deadly. “Seriously, go suck a thorny Glowranth dick and choke on it.”

Kael winces.

Good.

And yet he still doesn’t backtrack. Doesn’t apologise.

But for the first time since I met him, he actually looks uncertain.

The warrior I’ve come to expect—the one always in control, always put-together, always unshakable—is gone.

And I don’t know what to do with the male standing in front of me, fumbling through his words like he doesn’t know how to hold onto them.

“I was born into service,” he says, his voice rough. “I was meant to die in service. My loyalty was to Prince Aelith. Only him.”

I sneer, shaking my head. “Oh, fuck right off.” I don’t understand that kind of devotion, that level of self-sacrifice. I know I should respect it, should see this as some kind of cultural divide?—

But it’s so damn hard when it’s my life he’s talking about.

Kael exhales sharply, his nostrils flaring. “The moment I felt you on Terrafeara,” he admits, “I fought my instinct every day not to find you. Not to claim you. Not to make you mine.”

My dick should not stir at that. At the possessive gleam in his eyes. At the absolute conviction in his voice. He doesn’t deserve my perfect cock showing any interest.

“I had to forcefully stop myself,” he continues. “Neither my shame nor my promise to serve Prince Aelith would have allowed it.”

I bark out a bitter laugh. “That’s the whole ‘my word is my bond’ shit, right?”

Kael nods once.

“And your bond to me?” I snap. “That’s worth jack shit?”

His expression darkens, his markings pulsing wildly. “Not anymore,” he says, the words weighted.

My blood runs cold.

Because suddenly, I remember?—

The bond.

His words before I passed out. He started the bond. He saved my life. Is that what it took?

My stomach clenches. “Because the process has started?”

“Yes,” Kael confirms. “Saving your life was one stage. Another was absorbing your blood.”

Jesus, fuck.

Just how many steps are there?

I swallow hard, my mouth dry. “And how many are there? What’s the last one?”

Kael’s expression shifts—serious, unreadable. He hesitates for just a second before he says, “Sharing a heartbeat.”

I blink. “The fuck does that mean?”

“It is… a synchronisation,” he says, as if that actually explains anything. “A way to align ourselves permanently.”

I stare at him, waiting for something horrifying about how exactly we do that.

Like sex.

Because if it’s sex, I swear to God?—

“It doesn’t involve mating,” he says quickly, cutting off my impending breakdown.

I exhale. “Oh. Well. Good.” I don’t trust the relief rolling through me, because none of this should matter. None of this does matter. I force myself to meet his gaze. “I have to do the same?” I ask. “All three things?”

“Yes.”

I hate the way something inside me yearns. The deep, painful ache in my chest that screams at me to give in. To take what’s mine.

But I can’t. Because he didn’t want me. Not at first. Not when it mattered.

I straighten, locking my jaw. “No.”

Kael stills.

“I don’t want it,” I say, the words like glass in my throat.

He watches me, silent.

I clench my fists, digging my nails into my palms just to keep my voice even. “I don’t give a shit about fate or anything else,” I tell him. “You don’t deserve me.”

Kael flinches like I just stabbed him in the gut. His markings go wild, flashing in chaotic bursts, his skin vibrating with unspoken emotion.

He has no words.

The pain in my chest nearly doubles me over, but I don’t let it show. I inhale sharply. “Let’s get moving.”

His jaw ticks. “Son?—”

I hold up a hand. No.

“We need to find the doctor,” I say firmly. “We need to get back to Dathanor. Save Dawson.” I force myself to swallow the lump in my throat. “And then we can go our separate ways.”

Kael doesn’t respond. But he doesn’t need to. Because the look in his eyes? It says he heard every single word.

And it fucking destroyed him.

Good.

It should.

Even if it’s destroying me too.

With the darkness drawing in, it’s almost time to rest. We’ve been lucky so far—no beasties with too many teeth trying to take a bite out of us. But travelling at night? Yeah, that’s a shit idea. Not to mention, I’m starving.

Neither of us ate after Kael’s big soul-destroying reveal. Nausea had taken over, stealing my appetite right along with any shred of emotional stability I had left. We left fast.

And yes, I’m still in the stupid backpack contraption.

Talk about awkward.

The bitter silence between us has stretched on for kilometres, thick as the creeping dusk. “I think we need to stop,” I say, my voice cutting through the quiet.

Kael’s shoulders tense, just a fraction. Then he nods. He scans the horizon, moving with that infuriating, measured control of his. Since his eyesight is way better than mine, I let him do his thing.

“There is a cave up ahead,” he says. “It will offer you some shelter.”

I clamp my mouth shut, noting his formality, before I say something snarky. Something like “I don’t need protection.” Because obviously, I do. Not just from the toothy nightmares lurking in the darkness but also from the cold.

The bite of the ithran frost is already nipping at my skin, its slow creep making my fingers and toes tingle. “Okay,” I mutter. It’s all I can manage without bitterness slipping in.

My stomach growls, loud enough to echo in the quiet. I pointedly ignore it. I have supplies in my pack. As soon as we stop, I’ll force down whatever rations I’ve got without thinking too hard about what I’m eating.

Kael’s voice jolts me. “I will find you fresh food when we make camp.” His words are quiet. Simple. And yet something about them unsettles me.

Maybe it’s the fact that he even cares whether I eat. Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s still trying—even after everything. He keeps walking, his pace still effortless, still unfairly smooth, even as the terrain turns into jagged, uneven ground. He isn’t even breathless.

“I have my own food,” I say.

His shoulders tense again. “I know,” he says. “But there are rethog nearby. You can keep your supplies for when there is no fresh food.”

I hesitate. Rethog . They taste like chicken, and I haven’t had one in ages. Back in Dathanor, we only get them when hunters bring them in, which has been happening less and less lately—what with the queen’s lackeys closing down trade routes and cracking down on rebellion activity.