Page 16 of The Monster's Mate

Charity turns in my hold and glares so effectively, the female demon frowns, spinning to return to the cluster of other waiting employees.

“Thank you,” I whisper, leading her down the corridor toward her office. “How has your night been?”

“Long,” she admits, opening the door and walking into the office that used to be Aline’s. After that, Charity shared it with Nadia for a short while after we came to Haven from North Falls. Only, Nadia gave birth, and she’s barely been back to The Den since.

Charity steps out of my hold, scurries over to the couch on the far wall, and tugs the blanket off the back. She toes out of her flats and curls up on the sofa.

“I’m stuck here for two more hours until Saber shows up,” she says, getting the blanket situated. “But I’m exhausted. Let’s collectively say a prayer no one else needs anything until he clocks in.”

I frown, taking in the dark circles under her glassy eyes. She missed out on several hours of sleep last night, but she seems more run down than I would expect.

Typically, a cheerful, upbeat energy surrounds her. Even the first time I laid eyes upon her, I took note of how friendly she was.

My stomach wobbles with a strange discomfort as I ponder whether her half-fae heritage is enough to protect her from human illnesses and disease.

Siphoning across the room, I focus on my full form. It takes a bit of effort, but my lower half appears.

I don’t hesitate to take a seat on the edge of the couch.

“Are you under the weather?” Brushing the backs of my fingers over her cheek, I try to covertly check her for symptoms of a fever.

“I just need a good night’s sleep.” She offers a smile.

It’s forced, and I don’t like it.

“You don’t feel feverish,” I say distractedly. “I can locate a doctor. I’m sure Haven has one.”

“Athos, I’m not sick.” She snuggles deeper under the blanket.

Again, with the fake smile.

I’ve changed my mind. I actually hate it—dislike isn’t strong enough of a word.

My hand moves to her forehead, and I frown as I evaluate her temperature once more.

“When is your quickening?” My nostrils flare with her delicate cherry blossom scent.

Fae females have a period of hyperfertility known as the quickening. It comes two or three times a year and, from what I’ve heard, they build nests for the experience. They secrete pheromones in the weeks leading up to it to attract compatible partners, and once the quickening begins, they release different pheromones meant to encourage bonding.

The fae will fill her nest with soft fabrics and pillows and the mates she’s chosen. It’s a very intimate experience for all involved, as it often leads to conception.

“What?” Charity asks. “Oh no, I’ve never had that. I guess I didn’t inherit enough of my mother’s genes to reproduce like a fae.”

Everything in me believes she’s wrong, but I have no concrete evidence, so I keep my mouth shut.

“Humans certainly seem to enjoy the way they copulate,” I say to lighten the mood. “Why don’t you rest? I’ll keep a listen out for any emergencies and wake you if it’s something I can’t fix on my own.”

She sighs. “That’s very kind, but I think I’ll just rest my eyes for a few minutes. If it was a few hours earlier, I’d start a pot of coffee.”

My face twists into a grimace. That’s one human beverage I’ll never understand. Instead of speaking, I slide my fingers into Charity’s light brown hair and attempt to soothe her to sleep.

“What’s wrong?” Bane growls, appearing in the doorway to Charity’s bedroom.

“Shh,” I scold, placing the sleeping beauty down on top of her comforter. “I believe she may be coming down with some type of illness.”

“Fuck, the human realm really is a cesspool.” Bane grunts, shoving his way into the bedroom as I toss Charity’s shoes on the floor near the wall. “It’s that fucking place. They’re working her to the goddamn bone. She hasn’t had a day off in nine days.”

That is a considerable amount of days to go without a break.

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