Page 52 of The Monster's Mate

Did he learn nothing from the disaster with my mother?

In all honesty, I feel a pinch of sorrow for his mate. It’s difficult to fathom the pain she must experience every time he steps out on his matebond.

The wyvern screams in my mind, calling for my father’s retribution. My eyes glow yellowy-green as I bend over his sleeping form. He’s got a white sheet pulled around his lower half, but I believe he’s also in some sort of thin sleep pants.

What a fitting outfit for the pathetic creature to meet his end.

“Hello, father,” I murmur, lifting his massive form out of the bed.

My wings expand as I toss him toward the balcony with all my might.

The female in his bed wakes with a scream, glancing around in confusion. I harbor no ill will toward her, so I ignore her as I stomp toward my father.

His head darts about as he attempts to pick himself up from the broken table that he likely takes meals at when he eats in his quarters.

Flying across the room, I viciously slam my boot into his jaw.

Memories of all the times he backhanded me for saying the wrong thing fill my mind.

Gods.

Those were the times I was actually trying to please him.

Thousands more of his belt and boots flying at my head strengthen my resolve. His eyes light with his dragon as his head cocks, and I know he’s trying to locate me by sound alone.

I fly through the air, scooping him in my arms like a bride, and barrel through the glass and wood of the half-closed door. Once we hit the railing to the balcony, I simply chuck him over.

Wraith gives me a nod from his position near the fountain as my father struggles to transform in mid-air.

My jaw literally falls as his body freezes in its descent.

Either the reaper or the sin eater has the ability to freeze time.

I spin around, moving to the side until I can see back into the bedroom. Even the woman is frozen, holding the sheet to her chest.

The residents of Haven truly are powerful beings.

Turning back to the railing, I extend my wings.

Chapter Twenty-One

Athos

Bane is a terrible partner. Yes, I can siphon to places with intent, but the only time I’ve successfully transported to an actual being was to locate Charity. I’m fairly sure the nature of our matebond is to thank for that.

Outside of that, I’ve been able to return to the keeper of my jar if I didn’t know their specific location, but I’ve always viewed that as an extension of the magic that ties us together. Since I have no idea where Veryn is being held, I can’t siphon us to him directly, and Bane is furious about the limitations of my magic.

Not that I’m any more pleased than he is.

Bane stomps through the halls of the castle so loudly, I’m surprised every guard in the building isn’t hot on our trail.

“Were you truly a successful assassin?” I ask in barely more than a whisper.

“For two hundred years.” He grunts, taking a curve that leads down another long hallway.

“Do you think, perhaps, we should take a stealthier approach?” I float along at his side like a dutiful partner. “You know, before we alert every guard in the building to our presence.”

“Please shut the fuck up,” Bane hisses, slamming his forearm into a door we make it to at the end of the hallway. He stops dead in his tracks and even takes a minuscule, baby step back.

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