Page 8 of The Monster's Mate

The nightmare called her Charity. It’s an unusual name that you wouldn’t find in Faere, but she has slightly pointed ears and the type of ethereal beauty that points to some type of fae heritage.

She takes my hand and gently tugs me toward the piece of furniture that appeared when the nightmare left. “Do you know how you came to be in the human realm?”

The female takes a seat, and I find myself joining her, but my mind radiates with pain as I contemplate her question.

“I believe I was ordered to the human realm for some form of reconnaissance.” It’s difficult to believe the words spill from my lips with such ease.

Being the bastard-born son of the king of dragons has taught me well how to accept pain. My father used dire forms of torture to ensure I would keep my mouth closed if I was ever intercepted by the enemy.

Torture is not the method this female has opted for. Her soft skin brushes my inner wrist, and I glance down to see her fingers still linked with mine.

If this is a new tactic, it’s one I haven’t experienced before. Then again, no one would ever attempt to seduce my kind.

“I know the nightmare introduced us, but do we know one another?” My nostrils flare, catching hints of her floral scent. It’s delicate and reminiscent of cherry blossoms. I’m unsure if they have them in the human realm, but they likely have some equivalent.

“We do,” she says, turning in her seat until she faces me fully. She keeps her hand wrapped in mine and stretches the other over, placing it on my heart. “Can you feel the connection between us?” Her striking blue eyes rake over my face.

I pull a palm up to place over her hand. A sizzle of strange electricity completes a circuit between us.

“I believe I do,” I admit. “Do you possess fae blood? Is that what I’m scenting?”

“I’m half siren.” Charity pulls her lithe shoulders back. “This is so bizarre. I feel like I know you so well, but not at all.”

“Is there a reason I should know you?”

She swallows thickly. “You’re my mate.”

My fangs pulse, and I move quickly. Sliding my fingers into the hair at the base of her skull, I tilt her head to the side and bury my nose in her neck.

My tongue flicks out, testing her skin, and a low groan escapes. Her salty taste hits my system like an explosion, and it takes everything in me not to plunge my teeth into her tender flesh.

Her hands dig into my sides, tugging me closer.

I freeze completely as her arms wrap under mine, and she hugs me.

The daft womanhugsme.

Then again, I can’t seem to force my tongue to stop savoring her skin.

“Okay, so, I’m pretty sure we’re in a dream created by my friend’s mate,” she whispers. “Meaning, it’s probably not the time to get handsy.”

Charity doesn’t release me as I place my palm on her back, lowering her to lie on the strange piece of furniture.

Her brilliant blue eyes stare up at me, and she licks her lips.

“I’ve been told my entire life that wyvern don’t have mates,” I tell her truthfully.

Her small, cold hands slide around my sides to rest on my chest. “I take it you’re half fae, in addition to your dragon ancestry?”

I nod. “My mother was fae. My father had her murdered for the crime of successfully birthing me.”

“Eldritch…” She moves a hand to my neck and pulls me closer until her lips are only a hairbreadth from my own. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was many hundreds of years ago,” I say, studying the light dots that cross the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheeks.They’re quite cute and a solid distraction from the pain that comes when I think of my mother.

She committed no sin. Although, my father considered her beauty to be one. He took her to bed, despite having a mate of his own for hundreds of years. And yet, my mother was punished while he still walks free.

“Time can lessen the ache, but I don’t believe it truly heals all wounds.” Charity stares up at me from under her lashes, and I ache to do…something. “So, um, I need to ask you?—”

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