Page 96 of Their Pretty Little Monster

Was it a warning? Could my father already know where I am? Is Clay hinting that waiting here, hoping to stay hidden, is a mistake? A knot tightens in my stomach. Maybe it’s time I stop just reacting. Maybe I have to make the first move. If danger is coming, I should help Wolfe ensure we meet it head-on, not hide from my father.

The room seems to suddenly sway with the rhythm of the ocean that sloshes and slams against the windows.

“Whoa,” I mumble while Killian tightens his hold around my middle.

“Nothing to worry about,” he reassures me, smiling.

Around us, the other diners are chatting loudly, unaffected by the boat’s movements, and the tight knot in my chest softens just a bit.

The waitress arrives with our drinks, a lighthearted grin on her lips, but for a change, she doesn’t make any small talk or flirt, aside from letting us know the drinks have arrived. Mine’s a tall glass with lots of greenery, ice, and a pale green liquid.

I take a sip, reminded of apple and mint. “Oh, this is delicious.”

Killian doesn’t have eyes for anyone else but just watches me as though I’m the most entertaining thing in the world for him.

Soon enough, the food arrives, and the table is covered in an assortment of dishes. I take them all in, unable to identify a single dish. One plate is teeming with thick tentacles, their tips still twitching as steam rises off them. There’s one dish with dark, curled leaves, which are glossy and slick with what I hope is a cooking oil. The skewered meats look normal, except for the meat charred at the edges, oozing a vibrant green juice. Why does this food have to look so intimidating?

I hold back from gagging to not be rude and offer Killian a smile, seeing he’s studying me for my response.

“Let me serve you a bit of everything.” He’s already busy scooping food onto my plate.

“Please, just not the skewers.”

He glances at me with a comical frown. “That’s the best dish on our table.”

I shrug. “Maybe next time. I’m not sure I’m in the mood for oozing meat today.”

He chuckles, placing a full plate in front of me in moments. Once he’s got his plate heaped, he digs in. So, I do the same, and surprisingly, they aren’t so bad. Like most of the things in Blight, they’re the opposite of how they appear.

“Tell me about Nightingale Village,” he prompts, twirling something that resembles a fork but with too many prongs around long strands of a green vegetable. “What’s life like there on an average day?” He picks up a piece of something crunchy-looking and pops it into his mouth.

I pause, spearing a small, tentacle-like morsel on my plate.

“It was tough,” I start. “The people there… they weren’t exactly kind to my mother and me. Always whispering, always staring. It’s like they blamed us for every bad thing that happened just because we were different.”

He reaches over, placing his hand on my thigh. “They had no idea how lucky they were to have known you.”

I laugh. “Yeah, right.”

I dive into talking about the village, the lack of resources, the hardship, but also the great times I had with Alina and my mother. With no idea how long I’ve been talking, I find my plate’s completely empty, and Killian’s already filling it back up for me.

“I’m going to change things when I return,” he explains before taking another big mouthful of a purple root vegetable that looks like a potato.

The ship tilts beneath us, shaking me in my seat, and I grasp the table, my drink sloshing in the glass.

“Okay, that one was scary,” I say, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach.

“We’re perfectly safe here.” He’s enjoying his meal while plates wobble on the table. “Anyway, I have grand plans for Nightingale Village when I return.”

“Do you think… will I get to see my mother again?” I watch him, needing to know because just the thought of her has me tearing up.

He pauses and twists his head in my direction. “I give you my word, I’ll make it happen,” he promises sincerely.

“That means the world to me,” I murmur, quickly wiping away a stray tear. “If she wasn’t so sick, I wouldn’t be as worried.” I go on to explain how I’ve been secretly getting medicine for her from one of the Village Protectors and how it’s improved her health.

“You love her so much; she’s lucky to have you,” he observes with admiration behind his words.

“She deserves everything,” I reply, feeling a weight lift at sharing this with him. “Anyway, with your plan to head back to Nightingale Village, you’re coming back here, right?”

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