Page 48 of The Monster's Daughter

We sit in silence until Natalie snores softly, mouth open. Bella leans her head on my shoulder, just a little.

And I stay still. Breathing her in. Guarding them both. Pretending—for one fragile heartbeat—that this is home.

CHAPTER 29

BELLA

Anxiety is a bastard. Doesn’t matter how many cups of coffee I drown myself in, how many laps I swim before sunrise to burn it off. It clings. Lives in my bones. Every day Kage spends with Natalie, it digs deeper. And she—my little monster—she’s getting attached. Fast.

I can’t blame her. He’s larger than life, patient when she’s wild, stern when she needs it, and funny in this awkward, dry way that makes her giggle until her ribs hurt. Every time I see her climbing his back or curling into his arms, my chest cracks a little wider. Because I know what I’m not saying. And the silence? It’s not neutral. It’s growing teeth.

By the time I flop into Jexi’s cluttered little storefront, I feel like I’m going to choke on my own secret. The place smells like burning sage and bad ideas. Crystals hang from every surface—pink, green, jagged, smooth. She’s got half of Glimner convinced these things balance your soul.

Jexi eyes me over a chipped mug of tea. “You look like warmed-over shit, Bella.”

“Thanks. Always good to feel seen.” I sink into her lopsided beanbag chair and pick up a ‘healing orb’ that looks suspiciouslylike a polished paperweight. “How’s business? Sold any miracle cures lately?”

She smirks. “Three today. One guy swears this quartz keeps his bowels regular.”

“Hope he doesn’t swallow it.”

Jexi leans forward, eyes sharp despite the lazy tone. “Spit it out, Red. You didn’t come here to roast my life choices.”

I spin the orb in my hands, staring at the warped reflection of my face. “It’s Kage.”

Her brows shoot up. “Tall, dark, and lizardy? He’s here?”

I nod. “Here and… with us. With Natalie.”

Jexi whistles low. “Shit. That’s not a small development. And judging by your raccoon eyes, you haven’t told him.”

I bark a laugh. “Oh sure, let me just drop that over dinner. ‘Pass the salt, by the way, she’s yours.’ That won’t implode.”

“Bella.” Jexi’s voice loses its teasing edge. “You either tell him, or you don’t. But this middle-ground shit? It’s gonna explode all over you. Probably soon.”

The words land heavy. Shard of glass pressing deeper.

At work, I’m a mess. The artificial wave pool churns under the domed sky, synthetic sun painting the water gold. Whistles echo. Kids scream and splash. It should feel routine. But my head won’t stop spinning.

I catch myself staring at a family near the shallow end. Grolgath father, human mother. He’s massive, laughing as his kids climb him like scaffolding. She kisses his jaw without shame. It’s easy. Normal. Like no one’s whispering about genetics or politics or who belongs to who.

My throat locks.

The alert siren blares—shrill, urgent. A boy thrashing in the deep zone.

“Bella!” my supervisor shouts.

Shit. I didn’t see him.

I dive in late, arms cutting water. By the time I drag the boy out, another guard’s already there, glaring.

Later, my supervisor corners me. “What the hell happened?”

“I spaced,” I snap before I can stop myself. “Maybe because I’ve been working doubles covering for your lazy ass?—”

His mouth drops. Mine slams shut.

I apologize an hour later, chewing on shame all the while. But the cracks? They’re spreading.