Page 7 of Kael (Monsters & Mates #2)
How can he when his mission in life is to protect a prick of a prince?
But holy shit. Am I flirting with him? Is he flirting with me?
The guy asks me a couple of personal questions, shows some vague interest in my life, and suddenly I’m wondering if he’s ever had a drink or danced or done anything remotely fun… and dirty.
Like I’m not supposed to remember that the sovereign state he protects is responsible for capturing Riftborn.
Kael watches me, his expression unreadable. “Did you…? Is that…? I am asking if it was… an honourable profession.”
I freeze. Something hot and sharp coils in my gut.
The number of times I received flack for being in the nightclub industry was honestly tedious.
And sure, I sometimes used to show my ass ets, because I have a great arse, and it was super bloody fun dressing up and getting attention.
I certainly shook my butt when having a good time, and yes, a time or five I was mistaken for offering additional skills for a pretty sum—which, by the way, I never took.
But still, I’m not sure if he’s taking the piss or implying something more. Either of those options has my guard shooting up.
“Why?” I ask quietly, my voice deceptively calm despite the fire licking at my chest. Because fuck him. As if anything he does for the almighty sovereign state is remotely honourable. “Would it be dishonourable if I did sex work?”
Kael tenses. His fingers twitch against the table.
For the first time since we sat down, he turns slightly—just enough for his gaze to flicker towards me before he catches himself and looks away again. And just when I think I’m about to get an argument, an excuse, something?—
“I apologise,” he says. “I did not intend to offend or even imply that you do not have honour.”
It throws me off so hard that I forget to be mad for half a second.
Then Varek—who had definitely been listening—stands and stretches. “Time to move. We’ll head to the east quarters.”
Breakfast is officially over.
We leave quickly. It’s a short walk, maybe just ten minutes to the east section of the headquarters’ compound, just outside the bowling alley. As we walk, Dawson is ahead, chatting with Varek.
Kael walks beside me. I don’t know why that surprises me, but it does. Especially after the way he threw me for a loop at breakfast. Admittedly, I may have jumped the gun a little with my interpretation, but with how quickly he apologised, maybe not.
I expected him to move ahead, keep his distance—he’s been avoiding eye contact like it might set him on fire, after all. But here he is, his massive frame keeping perfect pace with mine.
For a while, neither of us speak.
Then, impulsively, I ask, “What’s the process for bonding with a fated mate for Glowranth?”
Kael stumbles.
It’s barely noticeable—just the faintest hitch in his step—but I see it.
It’s so damn unexpected that I stop walking entirely, just so I can soak in the moment.
Kael stops, too, rigid as ever, his face carefully blank.
But I’m watching him now, and yeah, that tiny flicker in his eyes? That’s discomfort.
Interesting.
Slowly, finally, his gaze meets mine. There’s something there—something uncertain, tightly wound, like he’s treading carefully on unfamiliar ground. “I….” He hesitates. “It is… different for each species.”
“I know that.” I cross my arms, watching him closely. “That’s why I asked.”
His jaw tightens, and then—just for a second—his lips twitch. Not quite a smirk, not quite a frown. Just a flicker of something… teasing?
Kael? Teasing?
“Curious, are you?”
Oh, he has jokes now?
“Yeah,” I say, leaning in slightly. “What, is it some big secret? You make a sacred blood pact? Dance naked under three moons? Maybe wrestle a two-headed bear?”
He exhales through his nose—a short, amused sound. “If only,” he murmurs.
“Come on, then.” I arch my brow in challenge, holding back my grin, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that I’m enjoying this way too much. “What’s the deal?”
Kael glances away, then back again, like he’s debating whether or not to tell me. Then, finally, he says, “There is a… recognition. A pull. It is immediate, though not always welcome.”
I frown. “Not welcome?”
His fingers flex at his sides. “It is rare for the Glowranth.” His voice is quiet. “I have only known of one in generations. The prince. And as you know, he is unbonded.”
There’s something in the way he says it. A weight. A tension so sharp, I could cut myself on it. And I swear—just for a heartbeat—I feel something ripple through the air between us.
Something warm. Tangible.
But then?—
“Why do you ask?” Kael’s voice is smooth, neutral. Too neutral.
I blink.
Damn. I did just ask that out of nowhere, huh? For some reason, I feel a little defensive now, which is ridiculous.
“No reason,” I say, forcing a shrug. “I just… I’ve never met a mated Glowranth before, which I suppose makes sense since there haven’t been any for generations.” Which is weird, right?
Kael tilts his head, considering me in that unreadable way of his. “Would you like to?”
The way he says it makes my stomach flip, though I have no idea why.
“Well, sure,” I say, trying to sound casual.
“Research purposes.” But also, what the hell am I talking about?
For one, I’ve seen the prince and am even on the way to see the dickhead now.
Plus, he’s not a Glowranth I want to get to know.
And really? Research purposes?
Kael makes another one of those low, amused sounds. As if sensing that I’ve got way too comfortable with this whole thing… with him—which, spoiler alert: I haven’t since I’m full of shit—he straightens his posture, clears his throat, and promptly turns into a brick wall of avoidance again.
Damn it.
Before I can push further, we reach the east quarters. Dawson and Varek are already inside.
Kael exhales, steps ahead, and schools his face back into that unreadable mask of his. And just like that, whatever moment we were having is gone.
And I suspect, if Kael and Aelith have their way, I’ll be meeting a fully bonded Glowranth as soon as Dawson’s clued in and says yes.