Page 35 of Monsters Like Us
Slowly, I turn.
Vale stands in his doorway, motionless, watching me. His eyes are dark and flat—a predator’s stare. He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t move. Just looks—curious and suspicious. A fucking challenge blazoning in his irises.
The corner of his mouth twitches, almost turning into a smile.
I let my jaw tighten until my teeth ache, but I don’t give him more. My expression stays neutral, unreadable, but my stare holds. For a heartbeat, the hall feels like a wire strung too tightly between us, the air charged, waiting to snap.
Then he heads back inside his office, shutting the door with a soft click.
But I know what I saw.
He’s watching me now.
Watching us.
And if he thinks he can sink his claws into what’s mine, I’ll rip them out, one by one, and feed them to him before I make sure he never breathes again.
CHAPTER 30
Micah
Days passwith me keeping my distance from Katana, hiding in the shadows. Not because I want to. Because I have to.
Vale’s scent still clings to her like smoke, and if I hover too close, I’ll burn this whole place down before I’m ready.
So I dig instead—listening, watching, and waiting for an opening.
When word spreads that Vale left the grounds for his home in Black Hollow, the restraint I’ve been gripping like a blade slips.
Tonight, I take what’s mine.
Her room isdark when I slip inside, the air heavy with sleep and the faint lavender scent from her pillow. She startles awake the moment my hand brushes her shoulder, hazel eyes wide, fear flashing in them until recognition softens it into something else.
“Micah—”
“Shhh.” I press a finger to my lips and tug her from the bed. No time for hesitation. No time for questions.
We move like thieves through the corridor, our steps swallowed by silence, then up the narrow stairwell. Her breath quickens, but she doesn’t fight me.
We emerge onto the rooftop, moonlight turning the rails of the widow’s walk silver. The wind wrestles her hair into a halo. She looks both fragile and untouchable up here, suspended between earth and sky.
“What happened in his office?” I ask, my voice low enough that it could be a warning or a plea.
She swallows hard, her arms folding tightly around herself. “Vale… questioned me. Pushed harder. I think he suspects something.”
My chest locks. The image of Vale circling her—testing and hunting—threatens to crack my control. I steady it, but just barely.
“He’s dangerous, Katana. More than you realize.” I yank my sweatshirt up and tilt it so the moonlight shows the pale lines on my ribs, the old map of violence. “He did this to me. Don’t underestimate him.”
Her hand lifts before I can stop it. Fingertips ghost over the scars, light as regret. I hiss, not from pain but because I don’t ever want her to stop.
“Is this okay?” she asks, her voice tiny against the wind.
"Better than okay." I step closer, my fingers finding the plane of her cheek, tucking her brunette locks behind one ear. When I pull her closer, the world narrows to breath and heat. My mouth covers hers in a kiss that’s all claim, restraint, and hunger held in check.
She returns the kiss—soft and urgent—and whatever careful calm I possessed cracks.
When I break the kiss I say one thing. “Strip. Now.”
