Page 18 of Veil of Monsters

The Angelic Child steps forward again and touches my wrist, her eyes rolling back. “Your engagement will cause much blood to be lost. Your mate should fear her past and your future. You are fire and destruction, and were never meant to find each other.” She suddenly lets my wrist go, a cold chill spreading down my spine. “That is your payment for helping us. We will not meet again.”

The Angelic Child begins speaking to her people in her language, and I frown, thinking over her warning. I know my engagement to the witch is not going to be good for Posy, but I’d never let any harm come to her. Posy was turned into a bat by a witch after being kept prisoner and forced to be with one. I know that much, but she won’t tell me any details. I don’t care what the Angelic Child thinks. We were meant to find each other; she is my mate.

Angry, I make a portal and take them through to their guardian’s house. She happily accepts them with my thanks before I leave to go and check on the girls. I don’t know why I’m bothering to check on them when it is completely pointless. They can escape anytime they want. I don’t know how the sassy pink-haired fae makes portals, but it’s clear that she can. It’s also clear that she’s more dangerous than any of us realize, but she isn’t here to hurt us. I’ve told Emerson as much. If she wanted to hurt Emerson, she has had plenty of chances, mostly when he has been in bed with her. The fool. But still, I don’t want to hurt her.

I don’t want to do anything but protect these two. It’s confusing to me. It’s confusing enough that I almost believe the stories that Calliophe told us. They can’t be true, but something in my soul tells me there’s more to this and to keep her safe just in case she is telling the truth and she is my friend. I make a portal straight back onto the roof garden, and a smile pulls up my lips as I see my mate.

I’ve looked for her since I was a child and read about mates in one of the books in my aunt’s library. My aunt was convinced I’d find a mate in the witches, someone powerful enough to handle me. She was wrong. My mate is painfully mortal and tiny. Mates are where two souls are born, and they are connected to each other. They say all our lives run on a string pulled tight, like it’s on a harp. When it’s cut by the goddess, we die. But fated mates, their strings are entwined together. Twisted again, again and again until it’s impossible to pull them apart. Most lives are born with just one string. They never find a mate. They may love someone, and their strings may cross paths and wrap around once to live on together before one of them dies. But fated mates… we start and begin with each other. I knew from the second I saw her on the floor, lost in her long dark black hair covering her beautiful body, that she is mine and I am completely hers.

I will need to break off my engagement with the witches, which I know will not go down well, but I’ll do that after the war. We still need the witches on our side. Battling with the witches at the same time as the Rift King, who controls the sea, would not be good for us. Their numbers might even exceed our own.

I rub my forehead, a spot between my eyebrows where a headache starts to bloom. I am exhausted between setting up the armies and running court for Emerson, as well as helping the refugees settle in. Solandis is a great help with the court and helping Emerson with that. She has taken on bossing everybody around while Emerson sorts out arguments, as she does it well. Being a rare Wyern female, they respect her because they hope she will choose one of them as a husband one day. Shame for them that she likes females. Zurine is helping me with the refugees, but most of the fae hate her, and she finds it hard to be around them. We will fight this war, but I can tell Emerson is nervous for his people. If my brother is nervous, then I should be fucking petrified. He’s the strongest male I know, but he’s not quite right at the moment. He’s confused. Hell, so am I.

It’s these two females’ fault.

I watch Posy, my shoulders relaxing at the sight of her. What a strange name she has. She furiously twists and turns around with a sword. Goddess knows where she found that when I made sure this place had no weapons before I brought them here. The sword is blunt, useless really, and so is her workmanship. It’s clear no one’s ever trained her on how to fight. She is terrible at it. She basically stumbles across her own feet with the sword. Her long black hair is braided down her back, the soft locks hitting her ass as she swirls around.

She doesn’t stand right. In fact, no part of her will be any good at attacking anybody, as they could easily trip her when she fights like this. But she doesn’t give up. A familiar steel flashes in her eyes as she spins around, battling against a tree, and she is still losing. No, this can’t do. My mate needs to be able to defend herself. I’m tempted to just sit and watch her for a while for some enjoyment. I do enjoy how her body moves, but it’s painful. So painful when she clearly needs some help.

Fuck it. I clear my throat and she spins around with the sword, holding it up in the air between us. She wouldn’t stab me. I hope. I’m pretty sure she’s threatened to stab me a few times, but I’m her mate. She can’t mean it. I don’t know why it turns me on, but it does. Something is very seriously wrong with me, but I’ve known it for years. Time for my tiny mate to learn it. I hold my hands in the air as I walk over. “I’ve come to help. Let me train you.”

“I do not want your help, Lorenzo,” she growls. Fuck. I really like it when she growls and says my name. I want to adjust my cock, as it painfully presses against my leathers, but I know she might not take it well. Something about her is so different. I dislike that she’s mortal. It means she’ll die sooner if she does not mate with me. But she will be my mate, and our lives will be twisted together. She can live for hundreds, thousands, of years at my side. If she ever loses the stubbornness and accepts that I’m her mate. She must feel this connection between us, even as she denies it. I walk straight up to her, and she holds the tip of the sword out. I let it rest against the hollow of my neck. I trust her. Mostly. She’s my mate. She won’t kill me. She pushes the sword a little closer, nipping my skin. “Are you tempted to stab me?”

The look in her wicked eyes tells me that she is. “I’m not your mate. Get over yourself.”

I chuckle as I wrap my hand around the sword, letting it cut into my skin and pulling it aside. My skin will heal quickly. She frowns as I quickly disarm her in one move, and in another quick move, I have her back pulled against my chest. My forearm presses against her throat. “I could easily snap your neck,” I tell her, whispering in her ear and breathing in her scent. She smells like jasmine and how the sky feels on a frosty night as I used to fly through them when I had my wings. Her body molds against mine. It feels so perfect against mine; she fits against me. She is so perfect. She wiggles in my grip and that doesn’t help my cock go down. Fuck. I don’t let her go. She needs to know how much she needs training. “Let me help you. I can train you so that you’ll never get held by anyone like this again, because you will see the move coming and know how to get out of it. I can teach you how to protect yourself and how to fight with that sword. I can protect you, but it’s better if you can protect yourself.”

I let her go. She steps away from me, gritting her teeth with flushed cheeks. “Stay the fuck away from me. You don’t get to touch me. No one does and I don’t want your help. I don’t want you.”

She is such a wicked little liar. I fucking love it.

“I would never touch you without your permission,” I add, the words falling between us. I feel like she needs to know that. Like it’s so important that she knows that I won’t hurt her or force her to accept the mating bond. No, when she accepts the bond, she will be in love with me. There won’t be an end to us. Wariness enters her eyes before it is quickly covered up with that sharp grit that I’m used to from her. “If it’s true, if I’ve lost all my memories, that means that we’ve known each other for a long time. If what Calli says is true, you saved my life. Why?”

She keeps her expression blank of emotion, but I hear her heart beating away so fast. “That was a mistake. I should have let you die.” I watch my little mate flee from me to the staircases and back down into the apartment. I grin at her string of lies. I’m not giving up that easily.

ChapterEleven

CALLIOPHE SPRITE

This dream is different. It’s been several days since the last time I’ve seen Louie in my dreams. I’ve spent most of my time working with the fae until I’m so tired that I can only climb into bed before falling asleep. Lorenzo hovers around Posy, well aware she can escape with me at any point because he thinks I make portals. Emerson also ordered him to keep me in his sight, which Lorenzo has taken seriously. Little does Emerson know that we have to leave soon to get the demigod to complete a deal. I haven’t seen Emerson once.

This dream feels like I’m falling through the air, and I can’t stop myself. Yet somehow Louie is standing over me as I lie on the ground, saying something I can barely understand. I struggle to focus on him. I can’t even make myself stand. “You’re going to die.”

“Yeah, you’ve s-said that,” I murmur. He needs to find a new hobby.

“Wake up,” he angrily snarls. “I want to kill you.” He screams and shouts at me in anger, but I’m so tired I don’t even flinch.

Another angry voice is there when I awaken, but it’s not the same kind of anger. “What is wrong with her?”

I feel hot. I’m burning. “It’s the Faebane illness, Your Majesty.” A kind stranger’s voice fills the air.

“No!” Emerson roars, and the room shakes with his power. I can’t even open my eyes. I feel so weak. I’ve never heard him like this. He sounds utterly terrified, and I just want to hold him, tell him I’m going to be okay, even when we both know there is a chance I will not be. Faebane is one of the few diseases that can kill a fae. It’s quick, silent, and by the time you are sick, there is little that can be done. “Then heal her. Now!”

A nervous silence floods the room. “Emerson,” Lorenzo quietly answers. “You must leave her. You’re half fae and you can catch this. We are at war, and losing our king… you can’t risk staying at her side.”

His response makes my heart pound, even as weak as I am. “I. Am. Not. Leaving. Her.”

The sharp sting of his response doesn’t frighten Lorenzo, not that I expected it would. “I have no fae blood, and I can stay here with her. I will care for her like—”

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