Page 8 of Kael (Monsters & Mates #2)

CHAPTER

FOUR

I don’t know why I’m surprised that I end up with Kael while Aelith manages to steal Dawson away. Not that they’ve gone far—just a few metres across the communal space—but the prince’s pointed look and his quietly uttered words in Glowranthian made it clear: Kael, give us space.

Which means I’ve been forced to sit here, across from Kael and Varek, with nothing to do but make awkward conversation or stare at the walls. Admittedly, I could just keep my mouth shut. But silence is not, and never has been, my strong suit.

Varek, for his part, made an effort at first. But once he saw that Aelith and Dawson were actually getting along—and, more importantly, once Dawson laughed —he decided his work was done.

And, just like that, he abandoned me.

His excuse was thin at best. Something about leaving the new human in capable hands . Mine, specifically. Then, with an infuriating smirk, he walked off.

So, once again, I’m left with Kael.

And honestly, I don’t even know why I’m annoyed about it—beyond his casual rudeness, his clipped responses, and the fact that he rarely looks me in the eye. It’s starting to get to me in ways I don’t quite understand.

I huff a quiet sigh and lean back in my chair, tilting my head towards the ceiling. “So, this is fun.”

Kael doesn’t answer immediately. I expect silence. Instead?—

“How did you come across the rebels?”

I blink. That… isn’t what I expected. My gaze snaps to his, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Why do you want to know? Looking for intel?”

If I’d been expecting a scoff, a glare, or even a dry, unimpressed Really? —none of it comes. Instead, Kael just shakes his head. “No.” His voice is calm, even. “I only asked because I realise I never have.”

His expression gives nothing away. But the way his glowing markings pulse—slow, steady—makes me think he means it.

I exhale sharply. “Fine. Since you’re so interested.” Though why he is makes no sense to me. We met—and I use that term super loosely—just yesterday.

His gaze stays locked on me. Actually locked. For once, he isn’t looking away, isn’t staring past me or keeping his focus deliberately neutral. No, he holds my gaze—unwavering, unflinching, like he’s peeling back layers I hadn’t realised were visible.

It’s unnerving. Intimate. And it makes it impossible to brush him off.

So, I tell him.

I don’t embellish. I don’t dramatize.

I just lay it out.

“I nearly died when I first got here.”

Kael stiffens.

I pretend not to notice. “There was a….” I hesitate, then grimace. “I don’t actually know what it was. Had the body of a panther—a big cat—but way too many teeth. And these ridges down its spine that kept shifting, like it was deciding whether or not to grow more.”

Kael’s eyes narrow slightly, his focus sharpening. “A Rithak.”

“Great. It has a name.” I tap my fingers against my abdomen. “Left me a nice little souvenir, though.”

Before I can talk myself out of it, I lift the hem of my shirt just enough to reveal the scar that curves along my side. It’s jagged, the edges rough, like something took a good chunk out of me. Which, to be fair, it did.

Kael’s eyes snap to it. The glow from his markings flares, then dims. His hands tighten into fists against his thighs. “How did you survive?” His voice is quieter now, but there’s an edge to it.

I let my shirt drop back down. “Something bigger got to it first. I ran.”

Kael’s frown deepens. “You were all alone for how long?” His voice is low, almost a growl.

“Five days.” I lean back again, forcing a casual shrug. “I’m a hell of a lot more nonchalant about it now than I was back then. But if it wasn’t for Varek saving my arse, we wouldn’t be sitting here having this conversation right now.”

Kael doesn’t respond. Something about the way his muscles are locked, the sharpness of his jaw, makes me think he’s not nonchalant about it.

I tilt my head. “What, you upset you weren’t there to save me?”

His gaze flickers to mine, just for a second.

“Don’t worry,” I continue, trying to ignore the strange tension in his expression. “Since being here, I’ve worked my butt off getting stronger, learning to survive. I just need Varek to let me prove myself so I can head out there with one of the crew.”

Something in his expression tightens—so unreadable that my stomach twists. It’s like I’ve stumbled onto something I wasn’t meant to. That, or he’s laughing on the inside at the idea of me thinking I’m good enough to survive outside this safe haven.

I sit up straighter, breaking the moment. “What about you? How does one become the prince’s ever-so-silent, ever-so-scowly bodyguard?”

Kael exhales slowly, as if deciding whether to humour me. Then “It is in my blood.”

I wait. “That’s it?”

He inclines his head slightly. “My ancestors have always served the royal family.”

I frown. “You don’t sound particularly proud of that.”

His silence speaks volumes. Interesting.

I shift slightly, watching him. “Ever capture any Riftborn?”

He stills.

Subtle, I am not. But to my surprise, he doesn’t bristle. He doesn’t get defensive. His fingers curl against his knees, and after a long pause, he says, “I had to. As part of my training.”

I study him closely, noting the way his glow dims. It doesn’t seem like something he enjoyed.

“But you don’t now?”

“No.” His jaw tightens. “I never… took to that part of the job.”

I arch a brow. “And yet you became not just part of the royal guard but accepted a position I suspect is high-ranking considering you’re the bodyguard to the prince.”

“I saved Aelith.”

That catches my attention. “Really? Before you were on his protection detail?” I hold back my lip twitch. It sounds like I’ve been watching a whole heap of bodyguard movies. If only. Damn, do I miss movies.

Kael nods. “It was not my job, but… it happened.”

I almost smirk. “Did you get in trouble for it?” I know enough about the Glowranth to understand what sticklers for rules they are.

His lips twitch. Just barely. “No.”

And just like that, I start to see it—something deeper than just the prince’s bodyguard. He trusts Aelith, sure. But Aelith trusts him . Enough to override whatever hierarchy was in place to keep him close.

I glance towards where Dawson and Aelith are still talking, laughter slipping through the space between us. Then, absently, my gaze drifts to the window. I let out a slow breath. The view is both familiar and deeply unsettling.

The green sky stretches overhead, streaked with ribbons of gold where the sun hovers low. The trees beyond the compound are too tall, their leaves too sharp, like blades waiting to slice through anything careless enough to brush against them.

And the fence—the heavy, reinforced line of defence that surrounds this place—is a necessity, not an aesthetic choice. Because out there? Out there, everything wants to kill you.

Kael shifts beside me, and I glance at him. His gaze is still locked on me, his markings still dimmed, but his expression is unreadable again.

I open my mouth to say something, then think better of it.

He exhales through his nose—almost a laugh, but not quite. Then, to my complete and utter shock, he says, “I could train you.”

I almost fall off my chair.

Okay, no—I do fall off my chair.

It’s not graceful. There’s a very unflattering thump as my backside hits the floor, and across the room, Dawson chuckles. “You all right over there?” he calls.

Kael’s hand hovers like he’s considering helping me. But before I can process it, his fingers curl into a fist, and he pulls back.

Something tightens in my chest. I swallow it down, pretending it doesn’t bother me. I push myself up, dusting off imaginary dirt, then fix Kael with a suspicious look. “You want to train me?”

His expression flickers—uncertainty, hesitation—but then he straightens, shoulders squaring. “Yes.”

I wait for more, but he doesn’t elaborate. I arch a brow. “Why?”

His jaw clenches. “I am here with the prince anyway. Aelith has no plans to leave—not with the increased risks to Riftborn. As long as he is safe, I may as well make myself useful.”

I glance towards Aelith, a little surprised. He looks attentive, letting Dawson dominate the conversation. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but the fact that Dawson has his full focus is… unexpected.

Kael’s voice pulls my attention back. “When I do leave with the prince and his fated, at least I will know you are safe.”

Something about the way he says it—something in the intensity of his gaze—makes my stomach clench. Then, just as quickly, he looks away. The unease in my gut settles deeper. It must be the thought of Dawson being out there, alone with royalty.

Nothing to do with Kael. Nothing to do with the shitload of mixed signals he’s sending me.

I take a breath, still studying Kael. He’s hard to read, but there’s something in the way he said it— at least I will know you are safe —that lingers. I don’t know what to do with it, so I shove it aside. Instead, I roll my shoulders and cross my arms. “Fine.”

His head tilts slightly. “Fine?”

I nod. “I’ll take you up on your offer. You’ve got to be good at what you do, right? Considering who you protect.”

His expression doesn’t change, but I swear there’s something different about the way he looks at me—something charged, like he’s testing the weight of my words before deciding how to respond.

Finally, he inclines his head, as if my decision was inevitable. “We will start tomorrow.”

I smirk. “Oh, so now you’re making decisions for me?”

His eyes narrow slightly, but there’s no irritation in them. “I assumed you would want to be prepared as soon as possible. Unless you are not as serious as you claim.”

I bristle but bite my tongue. No way am I giving him the satisfaction of seeing me flustered. “Tomorrow, then,” I say, lifting my chin slightly.

Something unreadable flickers across his face, but before I can even begin to pick it apart?—

Aelith calls out.