Page 61 of Property of Mako
Lily wasn’t just haunted by her past. She’d been carrying a piece of this world with her all along.
And now I don’t know if the lies I’ve told her were protecting her… or damning her.
Maybe it was time to tell Calix everything. This was his world. Maybe he would know what to do about it.
When I finally dozed off, I had horrible dreams.
No, nightmares—of the creatures on those pages coming to life.
Chapter 28
Of Men and Monsters
Mako
Early morning light bled through the blinds, thin and pale, the kind of light that made the shadows in the room stretch long and sharp. I’d been awake for a while, listening to the steady rhythm of the shower running in the bathroom, trying to convince myself to relax.
But my instincts didn’t rest. They never did.
Obviously, Lyra couldn’t sleep either.
That was when I noticed it—something sitting on the edge of the dresser, half-covered by one of Lyra’s shirts. At first glance, it looked like a notebook, but the worn leather cover and the weight of it when I pulled it free told me different. A sketchbook.
My gut tightened.
I shouldn’t have opened it. I knew that. But I’ve built a life on knowing when to ignore the rules, when to follow my instincts instead. And something about this book called to me like a damn siren.
The first page stopped me cold.
Eyes. Except these were definitely not human eyes. The pupils were mere slits like a serpent’s, glowing with a predator’s hunger visible even in graphite. I knew those eyes. I’d seen them staring back at me across blood-soaked floors, across centuries of war in the shadows.
Half afraid of what else was on those pages, I turned to the next drawing. A wolf, massive and feral, its body warped into something caught between man and beast. Another page—horns, wings, a mouth full of razored teeth curved into a smile that was too familiar.
But the one that had me reeling was the last one of the man in dark robes. This one was in color—the lines deep with force on the page. I could feel the anger and emotion that poured through the colored lead onto the paper. I could see the heaviness of the hand, the rawness in each line. Sitting on his head was something I hadn’t seen in a lifetime. A deep red crown.
Thane.
Fuck.
My pulse spiked. These weren’t simple doodles. These were near-perfect renditions of the things most humans couldn’t even comprehend. Then I caught the briefest whisper of a familiar scent. Shock hit me that I didn’t notice it immediately. Lyra didn’t draw these—Lily did.
Which meant Lily had seen us. Seen them. For years.
And that?—
“Calix.”
Her voice cut through the storm in my head. I turned, the sketchbook open in my hands. Lyra stood in the bathroom doorway, a towel wrapped tight around her, water dripping from her hair and tracing a path down her bare shoulder. For half a heartbeat, I was too distracted by the sight of her to speak.
Then her eyes found the sketchbook.
Every trace of color drained from her face.
“You shouldn’t be looking at that.” Her voice was soft, but it carried a weight that almost made me close the book. Almost.
Instead, I snapped it shut, but I didn’t put it down. “Where did these come from?” I demanded. “Because these aren’t nightmares. They’re real. And from the dates, Lily’s been seeing them long before we ever crossed paths.”
Her jaw tightened. “It’s just her art. She… she’s always drawn like that.”
