Page 39 of Mated to the Monster God
“I’ve never been this close to anyone,” she whispers against my chest.
Nothing reaches so deep as human fragility spoken in hushed tones. I tighten my arms around her, pulling her flush against me. Every edge of me hums with the realization—this is what love must feel like. To create sanctuary in someone else.
“I didn’t know love,” I confess, eyes tracing the curve of her neck. “Not the way you teach me. Not until you.”
Her lashes flutter in sleep’s haze. Her voice softens further: “I... love you.”
There’s no fanfare. No trembling crescendo—just words, shimmering in the dark.
I kiss the top of her head, heart breaking open in warmth. “You’re mine,” I murmur. “And I am yours.”
I feel her pulse flutter beneath my palm, a promise vibrated through bone and blood.
We lie like that until the night folds into dawn. The world shifts around us—night listeners rise, a breeze ripples through leaves—but we remain.
She sleeps.
I don’t.
Every breath she takes builds inside me a knowledge I almost can’t hold: love isn’t a concept. It’s this—these quiet promises, this inhaled warmth, this shared breath beneath the canopy of stars.
Tonight, love is no longer an unknown. It’s as real as the rhythm of her heart against mine.
I stay awake, guarding the fragile, brilliant thing we’ve forged in the dark. And in that vigil, I understand the full weight of what she means to me.
CHAPTER 11
ESME
Iwake slow—tangled in the arms of a sleeping alien. Muscles ache in a way I’ve never known, each ache humming with pleasure and remnants of what felt like a firestorm of sensation. Light filters in through the canopy, warm and golden, dust motes drifting like lazy fireflies.
I shift, half-awake, and immediately feel the weight of Sagax’s arm draped over me. His chest presses to my back, steady and cavernous, heartbeat humming like a freight train rumbling through my bones. I reach back, fingertips grazing his scaled forearm—cool where not touching skin, warm where flesh gleams.
He wakes the moment I move. His eyes open—glowing molten gold—and they’re fixed on me with a worshipful intensity that makes my heart cage-rattle beneath my ribcage.
“Morning,” I whisper, voice brittle-soft.
He licks his lips, expression dark and beautiful. “You feel different in the light.”
I roll my eyes, can’t resist. “That’s called orange juice, sunshine.”
He snorts, but it’s more like a growl. Warmth radiates from his chest into me. He tucks a loose strand of my hair behind myear, talon-soft fingertips grazing my cheek. “You’re different,” he murmurs.
“Uh-oh.” I push upward, my hip brushing against his side. “Have I crossed into ‘too dangerous to love’ territory?”
Sagax smiles—one slow curve of lips that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Impossible.”
I laugh, hollow and bright, brushing my knuckles along the ridges of his jaw. “You know, after all that, I expected you to tease me mercilessly.”
His hand closes around mine, pulling it to his lips. He kisses my fingers—slow, reverential. “You’re too precious,” he says. “And it’s terrifying.”
“Terrifying?” I echo, eyebrows shooting up.
He anchors me with his gaze. “Because you’re my purpose now.” His voice is low, deep in his chest.
I catch my breath. Chairs spin behind my ribs. My pulse opens wings in my throat.
“Your purpose?” I whisper.
