Page 112 of Their Pretty Little Monster

“But it is.” I shake my head, panic surging through me. “Being your true mate, and Killian’s and Wolfe’s, has changed everything. Maybe that vision is showing us that not taking action against my father as planned has set us on the wrong path.”

“We’re not giving you to him.” His frown deepens, and darkness seems to edge closer. “I can’t emphasize that enough.”

My heart thunders against my rib cage, the weight of his words comforting but terrifying.

“It took me a while to understand why I was so affected by you, Killian, and Wolfe. I didn’t truly grasp what being a true mate meant. But now I feel it strongly inside me—the desperation to be with you three, the fear of losing you all, the warmth in my chest when we are together. Each passing day, this place feels more like home.”

I pause, the emotions swirling inside me, forcing me to face the truth.

“I changed fate because now you don’t want to harm me, either. That’s why I know the vision of Howler burning is because of me.”

He studies me, his shadowy face hard to read, but that captivating jade gaze holds me.

“We’ve been talking about alternate plans,” he explains, but it doesn’t seem concrete.

I want to cry, to pretend none of this is real, but I push on.

“I have been thinking of a way to maybe fix this.”

“What is it?” he asks, his arms across my back, holding me securely.

“You need to take me to my father.”

“Like fuck we are!” he growls. “We’re not going to sit back if you think we’ll let you sacrifice yourself. Your father’s a son of a bitch, and once he has you, there’s nothing stopping him from killing all of us and burning Howler.”

I shake my head. “I’d never do that, but I have a different idea.”

“Go on,” he says, studying me carefully in the dim light of my bedroom. It feels strange having such a serious conversation while he’s still buried deep inside me, but there’s a comfort in his presence, the building pressure a reminder of our bond.

“If we don’t act, that vision might come true,” I press on. “We need to confront my father. Not to sacrifice me, but to change the course of events.”

He studies me carefully, the shock giving way to grim determination. “How do you propose we do that?”

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. “I’m his daughter,” I say, meeting Nyko’s sharp gaze. “And as such, I have a claim to be the heir to his throne, right?”

Studying me, not saying anything, his gaze is locked on mine, and I can see his wheels spinning.

“And if you three are my fated mates,” I continue. “Then you are, through our connection, bound to also claim that throne alongside me.”

“He won’t hand over his kingdom.” His response is immediate, his voice a low growl.

“I don’t expect him to,” I reply quickly. “We say we’re next in line once he’s no longer around. Until then, all we ask for is land for your Shadowfen and peace. If we are rightful heirs, we deserve that much.” I’m waffling, nervous, but the words keep pouring out.

“I have no idea if this will work, but if he knows I’m here—and if he doesn’t yet, he will soon—wouldn’t it make sense to approach him before he comes for me? If we do this, perhaps we’ll change the destiny of Howler. I won’t sit and do nothing if he’s the one who ends up torching Howler.”

His breathing quickens. “I don’t trust the bastard not to kill us once we arrive.”

“Well, you all said he’s been searching for me, wanting to understand my power. I don’t tell him anything until he agrees to our terms and we’re safe. I’ll take my time telling him anything. If he comes to take me first, we lose all ability to negotiate. He might destroy everyone to get to me.”

“He can just as easily take you and still eliminate us once we approach him,” Nyko counters, his tone darkening.

“But we can’t do nothing! Having Howler destroyed and everyone in it will ruin me. We have to try something.”

“Risky as fuck!” He grimaces.

“A massive risk.” I nibble on my lower lip as nerves dance in my stomach. He shifts under me slightly, and his cock twitches inside of me. And I’m buzzing all over, squirming, trying not to think about how incredible it feels to have him inside me during this conversation.

The gravity of my suggestion pushes down on me, my own words echoing in my head, doubt curling around them.

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