Page 34 of Kael (Monsters & Mates #2)

Henny doesn’t reply—shocker since he’s not fully formed and doesn’t currently have a mouth—and Iris lets out a breath like she’s been holding it since forever. “He’ll leave a mark on you,” she explains. “A tether. When you’re ready, he can follow it back.”

“Follow it?” I repeat, heart stammering.

“It’s like a scent,” Kael adds quietly, his grip tightening slightly around my fingers. “A memory encoded into energy. He’ll find us.”

“And what exactly is there? And where is there exactly? A hidden library no one can find unless they’re bonded? That sounds… mystical. Is this woo-woo magic or actual science? Or both? Because if you’re expecting me to wave my hand and chant incantations, I have bad news.”

“I don’t know what you’ll find,” Varek says, surprisingly calm. “I only know the stories. That the library holds ancient records, knowledge lost to most of Terrafeara. It’s protected by something only a fully mated pair can pass.”

Yeah, sounds like woo-woo shit to me.

“Protected how?” I ask, then eyeball Kael. He never mentioned any of this shit yesterday.

He shrugs, his confusion pulsing through our bond. It makes me feel mildly better.

But back to my question. I glance around, but no one answers. Of course no one answers.

I rub my forehead, heat prickling at my nape.

“You’re asking us to go into some secret, possibly cursed, ancient maze-library—that might be a crock of shit and not actually real—and hope we find a book that says ‘how to save your maybe-dying friends and prevent reality from ripping itself apart for dummies’? ”

Varek doesn’t even blink. “Yes.”

Kael murmurs, “I will keep you safe.”

I look at him, my fated, my pain in the arse, the man who literally glows in the dark and somehow still manages to make my stomach flutter with one look.

Yeah. I believe Kael. But does he really believe all this shit?

I know he mentioned something similar, which I suppose gives Varek’s words credit, but this is all a lot of what-ifs.

Admittedly, I regularly jump in with both feet and without a plan, and this is a sort of plan.

Kinda. Or as close to a plan as I can expect to get.

And don’t even get me started on why Varek would have such information in the first place. The big fucker is full of secrets. Arsehole.

I glance again at the prince, lying silent. At Dawson, still unmoving. At Varek, who looks like he hasn’t slept in a week, and Shanae, standing like a sentinel, trying not to show how worried she is.

And then there’s Kael—watching me, the weight of so many unspoken things behind his eyes.

I breathe out slowly. “Okay,” I say. “Let’s get packed and weaponed up. Let your creepy demon-mist boyfriend zap us to a mystery ruin in the middle of nowhere so we can flirt with ancient doom and maybe save the world.”

Kael’s smile is soft. “You make it sound so poetic.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Kael.”

He does. And I don’t give a rat’s ass that everyone is watching.

And just like that, we’re committed.

To the bond.

To the search.

To saving them both.

Whatever it takes.

But first… I’ll need a little taste, which makes me sound all vampire-ish. I would make an awesome Spike, a thought that I absolutely keep to myself as I give Varek an up-nod and tug Kael out of the room with me, hollering, “We’ll be back soon!”

“Blue blood means something super different on Earth.” I wrinkle my nose. Am I also disappointed in myself that I’m not like Spike at all? Not even a little? Maybe, but the blue blood that pools at Kael’s wrist is absolutely not doing it for me.

Not to get me wrong—if it were red, human blood, without a doubt I’d react the same.

Still, I need to do it. Plus, Kael surprised the shit out of me by immediately getting on board.

Apparently, if we’re entering the heart of the queendom, I need kick-arse powers, and he needs to be at optimum strength.

Our romance game is not at all strong, but hey, I’m trying here.

I scrunch my nose again, my eyes seeking out Kael’s when I see his lips twitch. “You’re enjoying this,” I mutter.

He tilts his head slightly, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Your face is very… expressive.”

I huff. “I’m about to suck your blood and bond our souls for eternity, but sure, let’s mock my eyebrows.”

Kael shifts closer, his knees brushing mine as he holds out his arm, the blood still glistening at his wrist, bright and unnatural. “It only takes a taste,” he says, voice soft. “You don’t have to?—”

“I want to.” And I do. It hits me then—not just the necessity of it, but the weight, the meaning. The commitment. My heart skips. “Okay,” I whisper, then bend forwards and press my lips to the wound.

It tastes… not like copper. Not like anything I’ve ever tasted before. There’s a strange effervescence to it, like the edge of lightning before a storm, a kind of fizz and hum that dances across my tongue and zings straight through me.

I blink.

Kael gasps.

Everything shifts.

The moment the blood hits my system, something changes—fast and deep—like a door blown open inside me.

My spine arches involuntarily, light bursting through my chest, wild and electrifying.

The bond slams home with a force that’s impossible to deny, like the final lock sliding into place on something ancient and unbreakable.

And then?—

He’s there. Not physically, though his body is still pressed close. He’s in my mind. Not as thoughts, not as words, but as… presence.

Pressure.

Warmth.

“Let me in.”

It’s not a command. It’s a request. A feather-soft nudge in my mind that curls around the edges of me like a tide, patient, quiet, steady.

And I know what to do.

I let him in.

Emotion explodes between us like a supernova. Love. Longing. Relief so thick, it nearly drowns me. And underneath it, a hunger. A need. Bright, molten, alive. I feel him shudder. His hands tremble against my waist. I grip his shoulders, anchoring us both.

“Holy shit,” I breathe, chest heaving.

He presses his forehead to mine, eyes glowing bright with a thousand feelings I can barely parse.

“You feel it too.” His voice slides through my thoughts like silk, rich and reverent.

I nod. “Yeah. Kael, I… this is… fuck.” Words fail me. For once, language doesn’t cut it. It’s all too much and not enough, like my body’s too small to hold this.

I kiss him. Because what else can I do?

His mouth meets mine in a collision of relief and fire. Our breath mingles. Our bond pulses. I feel every flicker of emotion echoing through him—his awe, his disbelief, his joy—as though it’s my own.

His hands are everywhere—gliding, gripping, trembling like he can’t believe I’m real. And I feel the same, overwhelmed by the sheer rightness of him. The glow of our bond is blinding now, threaded through every touch, every gasp. It’s not just lust—it’s everything.

I kiss him again, deeper this time, letting the hunger speak for me.

His mouth opens under mine, and our tongues tangle, slick and hot, matching the frantic rhythm of our hearts.

We move like we’ve done this a thousand times in dreams and are finally awake.

My fingers dive into his hair, tugging gently.

He groans, a low, broken sound that vibrates straight through me.

Clothes are ripped away in clumsy, eager pulls. I don’t even know whose hands do what—his or mine—it doesn’t matter. All that matters is skin. Contact. Now.

My thighs straddle his hips, and his hands come to rest at my waist, steadying me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear. “Let me ride you,” I whisper, but it’s not a request. It’s a promise.

Kael exhales a shaky breath, his lips parting in awe as I rise over him. His precum glows faintly—celestial, wild, other . He’s beautiful. Almost too much to look at.

He stops me with a gentle touch to my thigh, voice barely a whisper. “Wait. Let me…. I want to do this right.”

His hand dips between us, slick with his glow-in-the-dark precum he must’ve grabbed without me noticing. Fuck me, his dick is a gift that just keeps on giving. He coats himself in long, deliberate strokes, every movement precise—almost practiced.

“Do you need help?” I ask, breath catching as he reaches lower, fingers circling my rim with startling confidence.

Kael meets my gaze, flushed and fierce. “No. I’ve got this. Remember, I’ve read a lot of romance novels.”

And bloody hell, it shows.

He preps me slowly, thoroughly—two fingers sliding inside with care that borders on worship, curling just enough to make my hips twitch.

The claw-shaped curve hits my prostate with such perfect precision, it’s almost too much.

He watches every reaction like it’s gospel, adjusting, deepening, learning me with an intensity that might just unravel me.

His other hand never stops moving, stroking himself in time with the rhythm he builds inside me. His breath is ragged now but controlled. Focussed.

“You’re doing perfect,” I manage to gasp, gripping his wrist. “Kael, I… please?—”

The moment his fingers slip free, slick and trembling, I don’t wait. I need him. I take him in hand, position us, and brace myself. He hisses as I lower myself slowly. Inch by thick, pulsing inch.

The stretch burns, delicious and overwhelming, and Kael watches me with eyes like suns, wide and reverent.

“You’re…,” he starts, but the words die on his tongue. His hands shake on my hips.

“I know,” I murmur, voice trembling, breathless. “I feel it too.”

He gasps as I finally sink all the way down, and I swear I see stars—real ones, not metaphorical, like I’ve just been launched into low orbit. There’s a beat of stunned silence between us. My mouth hangs open. His hands are gripping my hips like he’s afraid I might disappear—or implode.

I glance down, half expecting to see the outline of his cock pressing through my stomach like I’ve just walked into an animated monster porn feature. “Kael,” I pant, “are you sure you’re not part divine creature or something?”