Page 40 of Kael (Monsters & Mates #2)

“Great,” I mutter. “So, we’ve got a magic energy river under an ancient floor and a wall that probably opens into Narnia but won’t respond to any of us.”

Kael’s mouth twitches at the reference, making me wonder if there were some good fantasy books he managed to read, but his eyes remain on the stone. “We’re missing something,” he says softly.

No kidding. And whatever that something is, it’s right on the other side of this wall.

“Wait, wait—hold up a sec.” I turn from the stone wall and wave my arms vaguely around the mostly disappointing basement-looking space. “You think this is it? The secret library ‘nobody’ whispered about like it’s the bloody Holy Grail of Terrafeara?”

Kael glances at me, brow arched. “It’s hidden.”

“Sure,” I say, spinning in a slow circle. “So hidden that we managed to find it on the first try. No scavenger hunt. No cryptic riddle. Not even a single cursed artefact trying to eat my face.”

“Technically,” Varek mutters, voice flat, “it’s not the library yet. It’s antechamber five from memory.”

I blink. “There are four others?”

“Destroyed,” Pax replies, leaning against a shelf that definitely wasn’t built to support his weight—or his mood. “This is the last one. Maybe.”

I point a finger between them. “See, this is exactly what I’m talking about. Everyone keeps referring to this as maybe the library. We don’t even know if we’re in the right place.”

“The energy is real,” Kael says, his voice quiet, eyes still fixed on the wall like it’s holding secrets in its stone.

I sigh and rub the back of my neck. “Sure. I feel it. But is this the magical answer to our problems or just some weird underground foot spa for energy-sensitive Glowranth?”

Pax snorts but doesn’t look at me. He hasn’t looked at anyone much—except Varek, and even that’s mostly out of the corner of his eye when he thinks no one’s paying attention.

Spoiler: I’m paying attention.

Varek’s still silent. Still coiled tight like a spring that’s been bent too far.

“Do you know what this place really is?” I ask, stepping closer to Pax.

He lifts his eyes to mine—dark and unreadable. “No. Only what I was told. That if there was any place in the queendom where the truth might still exist, it was here. Whatever was too dangerous or too inconvenient to make it into the official records? It ended up down here.”

My gaze sharpens. “Conveniently vague.”

“It’s all I have.”

“It’s more than we had yesterday,” Kael adds, finally turning from the wall to face the rest of us.

I sigh again and glance at Varek. He hasn’t moved. His fists are clenched at his sides, knuckles pale beneath purple-blue skin. He looks like he’s holding himself together with willpower and grief. And Pax? Still hasn’t so much as offered a shred of kindness.

Except… except I saw it. That one glance, quick and sharp and full of longing, when Varek looked away. The tiniest flicker in Pax’s expression before he crushed it under a scowl. Like maybe— maybe —he’s not as indifferent as he wants to be.

Bloody hell. Fated mates, am I right? You either burn for them or burn because of them.

“All right,” I say finally, stepping between them and towards the stone again. “Let’s assume this is the entrance. Let’s also assume the universe isn’t just trolling us with a bad basement and a funny feeling. How do we open it?”

Kael steps up beside me, brow furrowed. “That’s the question.”

Behind us, Pax murmurs something in Glowranthian under his breath. Varek stiffens, a breath caught in his throat. His gaze lifts, meets Pax’s for half a second—and Pax looks away. Again.

I glance between them, then sigh. “This is gonna be a long day, huh?”

Kael’s fingers ghost over mine. “Longer if we stand around waiting.”

I smirk. “Good point, lover.”

He looks vaguely pained.

Pax looks vaguely disgusted.

Varek finally cracks a smile.

Progress.

Kael moves first, tracing his glowing fingers along the smooth grooves of the wall. His power pulses, syncing with something unseen. I watch, heart in my throat, as faint lines of energy appear—curling symbols that rise to the surface like they’re being drawn from thin air.

“Well, that’s not ominous at all,” I mutter, inching closer. “Just your casual glowing ancient glyphs reacting to blood magic and destiny. Totally normal Friday.” Because you never know, it could be a Friday.

Kael flicks me a look. “Be ready.”

“Be ready for what? For it to open?” I lean in, a little too close, my shoulder brushing his arm.

Click.

“Oh, bugger.” The floor under my feet shifts with a low groan. Before I can step back, a sudden whoosh of air hits me from below—like the world just inhaled—and the ground drops.

“ Sonny! ” Kael roars as the platform beneath me disappears.

I fall—but only for a second. A flash of light engulfs me and Kael both. Something grabs us, maybe energy, maybe fate just being a dick again, and swoop—we’re flung sideways, slamming through a separate wall of light like it’s been waiting for two idiots in love to stumble into it.

When we land, I roll into Kael, limbs tangled and breath knocked clean out of me.

From somewhere above, I hear Varek shout, “What just happened?”

“Oh, you know,” I call back, gasping. “Just taking the scenic route through Deathtrap Alley!”

Kael groans beside me, already on one knee, scanning the chamber we’ve crash-landed into. It’s a long, narrow hall made of old stone, etched in strange script that glows dimly with every step we take.

A grinding noise sounds above us. I spin, eyes wide. The ceiling is sealing shut. “Kael?—”

“I see it.”

Too late. Boom . The ceiling wall finishes its closure with a satisfying stone-on-stone thunk. And we’re alone. Fantastic.

He glances at me, tension bleeding through our bond. “I shouldn’t have let you fall in.”

“Excuse you?” I say aloud, brushing dust off my already-daggy cloak. “I distinctly recall you being right there beside me. Pretty sure gravity had beef with both of us.”

He huffs. Possibly a laugh. Possibly exasperation.

“Varek? Pax?” I yell towards the sealed ceiling. Nothing. No response.

Great.

“This is fine,” I say to no one, turning a slow circle as the hall stretches out ahead. “Just trapped in a potentially ancient death corridor with the hottest Glowranth boyfriend in the world. What could go wrong?”

Kael touches the nearest wall, and symbols begin to light up again—responding only to him, it seems. The energy here is stronger. Buzzing. Alive.

My fingers twitch with the echo of it. “Okay,” I mutter, straightening. “I’m not saying I want to be Indiana Jones, but if a giant boulder starts rolling at us, I’m punching fate in the dick.”

Kael sends me a look over his shoulder.

I grin. “Don’t worry. I’ll still protect your beautiful face.”

He groans again. “You’re impossible.”

“But charming.”

“Debatable.”

My humour fades as we start walking. We press forwards, the corridor curving into deeper shadow, lit only by the soft glow of Kael’s palm and the occasional flicker from the runes embedded in the wall.

Each step echoes too loud. My nerves are frayed, the high from earlier gone, replaced by something colder.

My thoughts keep looping—what if we’re trapped, what if this isn’t the library, what if there is no library and this is some elaborate, cruel trap?

What if we’re too late and Dawson dies, and the prince dies, and it’s all on us?

My breathing shortens. Tightens. Kael’s hand in mine grounds me—but only a little.

“I don’t get it,” I whisper, voice edged with panic. “Why are we the ones to find this? How does something like this even exist? Secret libraries are great in books, sure, but in real life, they don’t just appear conveniently after a death match and a weird dimensional leap. It’s too much. It’s?—”

“Sonny.”

I snap to him. Kael’s eyes are glowing low and steady. He steps close. One hand rests against my chest, right over my heart. His voice enters my mind like a balm: “Breathe. With me.”

I try.

It takes a second, but our bond helps regulate the spiral.

My pulse starts to match his. One thrum.

One rhythm. Our hearts beating as one. Handy feature, really.

Then Kael leans down and kisses me. Slow.

Firm. The kind of kiss that doesn’t rush, that doesn’t promise anything except I’m here. You’re safe. We’ve got this.

My lungs finally expand properly. “Okay,” I whisper, forehead pressed against his chest. “I’m good. I’m not good good, but I’m… better.” I nod. “Let’s go find whatever bloody secret was left down here like a twisted escape room prize.”

We pass into a wider space. Rows of shelves line the room, though most are broken or bare. A few scrolls remain, as well as dusty tomes and scattered bits of parchment. The air smells of old knowledge—paper and time and something a little metallic.

“This is it?” I murmur, stepping forwards. But it doesn’t feel right. Too empty. Too… easy? “This can’t be it, right?” I whisper, turning in a slow circle.

Kael’s hand tightens around mine. His expression is wary. “You’re not wrong.”

Then I feel it. That same thrum of energy. But this time it’s not from Kael—it’s from the ground. The pulse hits my boots and vibrates up my legs like a silent alarm. Kael stiffens beside me.

“It’s beneath us,” he says.

We both look down. To anyone else it would look like the same stone flooring as before. But there—right ahead—is one tile. A different shade. A little too clean. A little too deliberate.

He steps towards it, dragging me with him. His sword shifts into his free hand.

The moment his foot lands on the tile, light explodes.

Bright sigils spiral outwards from beneath his boot—etched into the tile in the same sharp, elegant lines as Kael’s own markings.

They glow bright, identical to the faint pulse of bioluminescence that travels up his arms. He gasps—and I feel it before I even see it.

A shock of burning power races through our linked hands.