Page 33 of Mated to the Monster God
He tilts his head. “Then let me help you understand.”
Before I can answer, he kneels beside me. The proximity steals my breath. He smells like rain and resin, heat and earth. His body radiates warmth in slow waves, and my traitorous skin soaks it in like it’s starving.
He doesn’t touch me. Just looks at me like I’m some ancient artifact he’s desperate to study but afraid to damage.
“I know this frightens you. The bond. The desire. But it doesn’t have to.”
“It’s not just the bond,” I say, my voice catching. “It’sme.I don’t know who I’m supposed to be anymore. The dutiful daughter? The reckless explorer? The woman who dreams about alien kisses in the dark?”
He breathes in deep, as if absorbing my chaos.
“You areEsme,” he says. “And that is more than enough.”
His words strike something deep in me—something fragile and hidden. I blink fast, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for more than this.”
“I won’t ask you to be. I only ask for the truth.”
The truth. It shimmers in the space between us like a live wire.
“I want you,” I whisper, voice cracking. “But I’m scared I’ll lose myself.”
He leans forward, eyes locked on mine. “Then I’ll help you find yourself. Every part. Every version.”
The vulnerability in his voice knocks me sideways. I’ve never seen a creature so powerful speak so softly. Never known anyone who makes me feel like I’m seenandsafe at the same time.
I reach out. My fingers brush his forearm. His scales are warm, slightly rough, and they flex under my touch like they know it’s me.
“I don’t know what this is,” I say.
“It’s real,” he says. “And it’s ours.”
The words settle in my chest like a heartbeat.
We walk in silence. Not because there’s nothing to say, but because too much hangs unsaid between us. Every rustle of wind through the foliage, every splash of dew shaking loose from the trees feels louder than the tension knotting in my stomach.
Sagax moves like a shadow beside me, quiet but coiled with that animal grace I can’t stop noticing. My eyes keep drifting toward him like a magnet. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t pry—but I can feel his presence pressing into mine, his attention like a tangible thing, wrapping around my skin with heat and promise.
We stop at a riverbank, the water running swift and clear over smooth stones. The canopy overhead breaks just enough to let in golden beams of morning light. It’s peaceful—too peaceful. My nerves can’t settle in it.
“I’m gonna wash up,” I murmur, crouching at the water’s edge.
I plunge my hands in first, letting the cold jolt through me. It cuts through the fog of dreams and desire lingering in my chest. I splash water onto my face, rub away the grime and sweat. My reflection wavers on the surface—cheeks flushed, eyes bright and wild.
When I glance up, Sagax is watching me. Of course he is.
His eyes don’t leer. They study. Intense and unblinking, like he’s memorizing the way the light touches my skin. Like he’s afraid if he looks away, I’ll disappear.
“You ever gonna blink?” I ask, trying to lighten the weight between us.
He does. Once. Slow and deliberate. “Your face is different when you smile.”
“That supposed to be a compliment?”
“Yes. And an observation.”
I snort and sit back on my heels, letting the damp seep into my pants. “You’re such a weirdo.”
