Page 49 of Enticing Monsters

If everyone’s missing, clearly, our time in the Fae Realm has resulted in drama here that we aren’t up to date on.

Are they all like V? Seizing, in pain, unconscious…

I push the dark thought away, making myself breathe deeply in a mimicry of Foster’s calming technique. If anyone knows how to calm himself, it will be my hair-trigger fire starter.

“You should go look for him.” Tristan’s voice is rough, and though quiet, it echoes in the stillness of the room.

Foster and I both turn to see him in the doorway wiping his hands on the apron tied around his waist.

“I can keep an eye on the prince. Foster, you’ll know places that Gage likes to get away, and his mom likes you. She may tell you something.” Tristan’s eyes move to me, and though he tries to smile, it doesn’t quite reach them. “Sera, you’ll know where your family might be. Honestly, they’d probably stab any of us. Well, stab if we’re lucky. Decapitate or worse if we’re unlucky.” He winces, ruffling his hair. “Me especially.”

Yeah…he still hasn’t exactly made up with my family after my brother found him with his hand down my pants.

It doesn’t seem to matter that I emphasized, over and over again until I could recite it in my sleep, that it’s my body and I’ll do with it what—and whom—I want. Caleb, Madd, and my dad all see me as a weak, fragile, little girl who should absolutely never have sex or know anything about it.

Even my mother grew tired of it and seemed to go out of her way to talk about her own sex life around my brothers. Granted, I wasn’t super thrilled about that either—it isn’t like anyone wants to think about their parents having sex—but I appreciate the solidarity of women being able to own their bodies and choices.

Plus, it provided a distraction from her kitchen experimentations that I was likely to expire from at some point. My mother is certainly proof that eating healthy can kill you.

“He probably won’t be happy if he wakes up,” I warn Tristan, even as I push to my feet.

Part of me is screaming for me to stay. To hold V’s hand, monitor his breathing, to be by his side just in case…

I swallow back the end of that thought. Sure, I know how to handle seizures and be there for someone in pain. I’ve done enough of it myself over the years. But it won’t do anything to help heal him.

And if we can’t find Gage, I’m not above kidnapping a healer, forcing him to work on V, then either having Kian wipe his mind or just outright killing him.

My family—my mates—come first.

Always.

I don’t care about the courts or politics or protocols. But the people I love? I’ll do anything for them.

“I’ll video call you,” Tristan assures me, plugging his phone into the charger by the bed. “He’ll calm down for you. Or at least not stab me much.”

His laugh is a little hollow, but his shoulders are back, and it seems to give him strength and purpose to be caring for one of the other members of our group.

Brother mates?

Mates-in-law?

I really need to figure out the actual wording for my mates’ relationship to each other. I didn’t think to ask them what being my mate would make them to each other. It certainly isn’t something that came up, and I have a feeling that most of my mates are straight as can be.

My eyes flick to V at the thought, knowing he’s an exception to that, though I can’t see him ever touching anyone but me. The pushy, possessive bastard.

“Keep me updated?” I don’t try to hide the pleading in my voice, and Tristan pulls me into a tight hug, nuzzling against me in a way that makes me want to melt against him and hide from the world.

We’ve just been hit by one thing after the next, and all I want is to just enjoy my friends, my mates, my magic, and live a little bit.

“Always. He’s strong. You know that. He’ll pull through just to be stubborn.” He pulls back, pressing a light kiss to my lips and then another to my forehead. “Find Gage and your family. Kick their asses for worrying us, and we’ll heal V right up. And then never let him live it down.”

I squeeze his hand before leaning over V and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, though he remains sound asleep, his sharp mind hidden away as his body tries to process whatever is happening to him.

I turn to Foster even as I check my blades, patting them one by one. “Let’s go.”

And heaven help anyone who gets in my way.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

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