Page 44 of Monsters Carve Thrones (Crowned Monsters Duet #2)

ADELA

It had been just over two weeks since we came home.

The townhouse was quiet this morning, sunlight spilling across the hardwood floors, reminding me of the peace that comes with a safe home.

Like I hadn’t bled and fought and screamed for my life across an ocean.

Like I wasn’t still putting myself back together one cracked piece at a time.

I stood in front of the bedroom window, coffee in hand, wearing one of Rafe’s shirts that swallowed me whole. My body still felt sore some days, but I was healing. Slowly.

Sex hadn’t happened yet. Not since we got back.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want him. Some nights, I ached for him.

I missed the feel of him pressed against me, the weight of his body, the way he kissed like he owned every part of me.

Or how his rough hands skimmed along my body, and those icy eyes looked up at me while his lips trailed down my stomach.

But I also needed space to feel safe in my own skin again.

Time to reclaim it on my own terms. And Rafe…

he never once pushed. He touched me softly.

Held me every night. Kissed my forehead, my knuckles, my temple.

He loved me in such a beautiful and gentle way.

Something... I didn’t realize was entirely possible for a man like him.

He slept beside me, guarding me. And not once did he act like he was owed more.

I loved him more for that than anything else.

He came out of his office just then, shirtless as usual, hair tousled from the shower. The bandages were gone now. His shoulder had healed into a tight, pink scar that stretched across his muscle. His eyes found me immediately.

“You slept in,” he murmured with a small smile.

“I needed it.”

He nodded, stepping closer to press a kiss to my cheek, his hand warm and familiar on my waist. “I’ve got calls with Milan and Brussels in an hour. Picking up a few of the stragglers who haven’t decided whether to join or die.”

I smirked into my coffee. “Oh, I love the illusion of choice.”

“So do I,” he said with a smirk. We stood there for a moment, comfortable in the quiet.

And then I finally said something that had been on my mind since we got back. “I want to hunt them down.”

Rafe didn’t look surprised. He just turned to face me fully, expression unreadable.

“The men who worked with Waylon,” I clarified. “Especially the ones who watched. The ones who laughed and let it happen.”

He was quiet for a moment, his jaw flexing once. “I agree.”

“I want to kill them.”

He stepped closer, his eyes darker now. “And you will. Every single one of them. But you’re still healing. Give yourself a little more time, baby.”

I hated that he was right, and I hated even more that I wasn’t ready. But I didn’t argue. Because Rafe wasn’t telling me no. He was just telling me not yet. And when the time came, I knew he’d hand me the gun himself.

***

By late afternoon, the sun was high and warm, releasing golden rays over the backyard like it was blessing the day. The air smelled like cut grass and distant lilacs. Laura arrived just after two, dressed in leggings and a black crop top, her blonde hair swept up in a messy ponytail.

She grinned when I slid open the glass door. “Well, well. The Queen rises,” she teased.

“Bite me,” I smirked, stepping aside to let her in. “I’ve missed you.”

“You saw me yesterday.”

“Still counts.”

We stretched on the back patio, working slowly through warm-ups while Rafe was in his office, deep in back-to-back calls.

My body protested at first, tight from healing and stiff from too many sleepless nights, but eventually, it loosened.

Laura was careful with me, never pushing too hard.

Just enough to remind my muscles that I was still alive.

“Sinclair Solutions held up damn well while we were gone,” Laura said as she lunged forward, reaching toward her toes. “The firewall tweaks you added last quarter? Solid as hell. The feds didn’t even get close.”

A swell of pride lifted in my chest. “That’s good. I was worried.”

“You always worry,” she said with a wink. “But yeah, we’ve kept your empire nice and warm for your return.”

“I’m excited to get back.”

Laura gave me a side-eye. “Don’t push it.”

“I’m not. I promise,” I said honestly. “But I need the rhythm. I need to feel like myself again.”

Laura’s expression softened as she nodded. “I get that.” We paused, letting the breeze roll over us. I took a deep breath, letting it settle into my bones. “How’s Olesya?” she asked gently.

A smile tugged at my lips. “She’s doing amazing. With the money Rafe gave her, she was able to get her own place not far from where she found a new job in Moscow. Some kind of office admin role. But the best part is that she reconnected with her daughter after being missing for two whole years.”

Laura’s smile bloomed, pride softening the sharp angles of her face. “That’s incredible.”

“She deserves it,” I said. “She helped save me.”

Before either of us could say more, the sliding glass door opened, and Rafe stepped outside, carrying a tray with two glasses of water and a tall, chilled Sprite with fresh raspberries floating inside.

He was still barefoot, loose black joggers slung low on his hips, the sun catching on the scar along his shoulder.

“My girls thirsty?” he asked, setting the tray down on the outdoor table.

“God, yes,” Laura groaned, reaching for the Sprite. “You really are the house-husband of dreams.”

Rafe smirked, handing me a glass of water and brushing his fingers down my arm. “This amazing woman was the only one to tame me enough.”

I squeezed his hand, the contact grounding me.

He sat beside us at our patio table for a few minutes, listening as we talked about returning to the office and the things I wanted to prioritize.

Mostly the special project that’d been paused when I disappeared.

His hand gently rested on my thigh the entire time.

That was who he was now–gentle to me, brutal to the world.

When Laura finally stood to go, Rafe walked her to the front, their quiet voices fading as they stepped out of view.

I stayed behind in the backyard, letting the sun bathe my skin.

My muscles ached in the best way. The air was warm, and for once, I wasn’t haunted by the shadows. And I waited for my husband to return.

***

RAFE

I walked Laura to her car on the street, the wind carrying scents of wildflowers planted along our small front yard. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting everything in that warm, golden haze.

She didn’t speak at first. Neither did I. We’d seen too much together for small talk.

Laura finally broke the silence, her voice soft. “You doing okay?”

I exhaled through my nose, glancing toward the black gate before answering. “Yeah. Better now.”

Her arms folded across her chest, and for a second, she looked just like the woman who sat with me in the dark weeks ago–when I was shaking, vomiting, and holding a loaded gun to my own temple at three in the morning while fucking high. She’d seen me in hell and somehow never judged me for it.

“I haven’t had the chance to really thank you since we got home,” I told her, turning to face her fully. “You… mean a lot to me. You helped me get through. There were times that I didn’t think I’d ever see Adela again, and I wanted to die because of it.”

She blinked, her throat tightening. “Well, you were also there for me.”

I gave a small, dry laugh. “I wouldn’t have left you while your heart was breaking, too.”

Her eyes shimmered, and before I could say anything else, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me. There was no hesitation or words. Just raw, quiet gratitude.

“I’m forever thankful,” she murmured against my shoulder. “For saving her. For going after her. For letting me fall apart when I needed to. I know you were drowning, too… but you still gave me something solid to hold onto.”

I closed my eyes, hugging her back tightly.

She pulled back, brushing under her eye with the edge of her sleeve. “Well. Now that we’ve gotten our emotional therapy hour in, I better go before I start sobbing and ruin the whole cool-bitch thing I’ve got going on.”

I chuckled, opening the passenger side door for her as she slid in. Just as I turned to walk back to the house, Nico came jogging up the street with a stupid grin on his face and a bag of groceries in hand.

“Got the wine and the chocolate,” he called. “Guess who’s getting lucky tonight?”

Laura snorted. “Not if you lead with that line, idiot.”

But the smile on her face told a different story.

One I was glad to see unfolding. I watched them drive off together, hand in hand, across the center console, and couldn’t help but smile.

After everything we’d gone through, it felt like the universe was finally giving something back.

The street was still. The house was warm.

And tonight?

Tonight, I’d take my girl somewhere special. Somewhere quiet, with music and candlelight. Somewhere she could breathe and remember what it felt like to be worshipped by the man who never stopped looking for her.

***

I watched her descend the stairs and nearly forgot how to breathe.

Adela wore a deep crimson dress–soft, flowing, and cut just right to accentuate the curve of her waist, the delicate lines of her collarbones, and a hint of cleavage.

Her hair was swept up loosely, a few strands brushing her cheeks, and her lips were the same shade as the dress.

God, she was gorgeous.

“Hi,” she said softly, a little shy. Almost like she didn’t know the effect she had on me.

“Hi,” I murmured back, walking toward her. “You look… stunning.”

She smiled, but there was a vulnerability to it.

I kissed her forehead and let my hands brush her waist. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” she whispered.