Page 72 of Mated to the Monster God
He snarls, shifting—eyes blazing red. He lunges, something liquid and cruel dripping from his servos.
I dodge, lunging upward with weight of every stolen moment of peace. My claws shred through the synthetic collar where brain meets stem. Wires bloom and snap. I feel weight pull me back—then release. His head topples.
Bloodless red fluid dribbles from the stump—yet there’s a tragic hush. Everything spikes into silence. The hum stops.
Esme scrambles to me. Her face streaked with resin, ash, pain, unwavering devotion. Her eyes bore right into mine when she says, breath trembling:“Knew you’d come.”
I gather her close, body trembling from sheer gravity of what we’ve done. I taste violence, but sweeter is her safety in my arms. I cradle her head against my chest—her breath trembling against scale.
Around us, the Baragon go silent. Armored bodies freeze, drones fall still.
The rumble of the world’s heartbeat wobbles—but we remain, exhaling together, guilty survivors of our own rescue.
CHAPTER 23
ESME
The sky peels open like a wound closing shut. One by one, the Baragon ships lift off, black obelisks rising on jets of shrieking fire. The very air trembles under them, their departure like the groan of a dying god. The colony holds its breath. And then—nothing. The last thruster flare fades into the clouds, and the silence is deafening.
Someone shouts, “They’re leaving!”
Then the dam breaks.
Screams of relief, of joy, of disbelief ripple through Sweetwater like a tsunami. I hear Tara sobbing somewhere behind me. Jimmy is howling like a wolf pup, wild and free. Even Blondie’s voice cuts through the cacophony with a laugh—sharp, hysterical. The air tastes like copper and gunpowder and ozone, but it’s also tinged with something I haven’t felt in days.
Hope.
I’m still standing on legs that don’t feel like mine. My knees are jelly, my muscles trembling. My fingers won’t unclench from where I’ve dug them into Sagax’s arm. He’s crouched beside me, breathing like a beast who’s just finished hunting down an empire, his eyes still glowing faintly with that golden fury.
We did it.
He looks at me, not with triumph, but with worry. “Esme?”
My lips try to move. I want to say,I’m okay. We’re safe now.But all that comes out is a strangled, broken sob.
The adrenaline drains from me so fast it’s like someone pulled a plug. My body gives up. I pitch forward, and the world tilts sideways. Sagax catches me before I hit the ground.
“Hey, hey—” His voice is low, ragged with something like fear. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him scared before. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.”
The moment I fall into his arms, I finally let go. Of everything.
The fight. The running. The horror. The loss. It all crashes down at once, a wave of exhaustion and grief and relief so enormous it guts me from the inside out.
My head lolls against his chest. I smell blood—old and new. Smoke. The musky tang of his skin. My own tears. Everything spins.
“Just hold on,” Sagax murmurs, wrapping me tighter. I feel the strength in his arms, in his body. The way he shields me with his bulk. “You’ve done enough.”
I think I mumble something—maybesorry, maybethank you. Doesn’t matter. I let myself go limp. Let him carry me.
He rises to his full, towering height, and I hear the gasp ripple through the colonists as he stands with me in his arms like I weigh nothing.
Rick lets out a low whistle. “Damn. Didn’t know we had a damn war god in our back pocket.”
Someone else mutters, “That’s the thing she said was bonded to her. Thought it was a parasite…”
“He just saved all our asses,” Tara says, voice hoarse but firm.
Sagax ignores them. He doesn’t need their praise or their permission. He moves with purpose, stepping over scorchedground and discarded weapons, carrying me through the wreckage of the colony gates.
