Page 46 of The Monster's Mate

I’m going to have another kid. Excitement bubbles in my stomach. Being a mom is pretty much my favorite thing in the world.

“Are you going to be less of a jerk to Eldritch and Athos?” I run my fingers over his neck.

Bane rolls his eyes. “I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you.” I stretch up, kissing his cheek.

“Only for you,” he grumbles.

That’s sweet on an entirely different level.

It takes ages for Bane’s knot to finally release us, but it gives us a solid opportunity to snuggle and talk.

“Do you want to see the lake?” Bane asks, sliding his fingers through my hair.

“Yeah, but I think my dress is ruined,” I admit, grimacing.

“It’s pretty remote, but I have spare clothes we can put on.”

“Okay.”

The loud, echoing ring of his phone makes me jolt.

“It’s probably Athos calling from your phone to find out if I ever intend to bring you back.” He laughs, stretching to grab his phone.

“I didn’t even know you had it,” I say, watching him pull his cell phone from his boot.

Bane’s entire demeanor changes as he gets a look at who’s calling. “This is Bane.”

“Bane?” Veryn sounds terrified. It’s not on speakerphone, but it's so silent in the cabin I have no trouble hearing both sides of the conversation.

“I’m here.” Bane jumps off the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re going to take me. They won’t hurt Meena and Ember if I go with them. I have to go.”

My blood runs cold.

Bane stretches over, pushing a finger to my lips. His hand holding the phone turns to claws. “No fucking way. Put Meena on the phone.”

“She’s warding, but she says it won’t hold. There’s too many. The dragonfire will kill them,” Veryn whispers. “I have to go. Tell my mom I love her. I love you too.”

The phone disconnects as my entire body bends in half.

Pain radiates in my chest, as does Bane’s fury.

My mind races.

If I wish I can fix this…

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Bane slaps a hand over my mouth, shaking his head like he can read my mind. “Trust me. That’s all you have to do.”

Chapter Eighteen

Athos

Not to toot my own horn, but I’m an excellent cook. Eldritch shovels bites of food into his mouth like he hasn’t eaten in hundreds of years. I suppose it’s been quite some time, at least in his fae form.

My mind tingles with the intention of a wish. It doesn’t manifest as reality, but terror pulses in the bond.

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