Page 86 of Mated to the Monster God
“Put them down.”
Sagax complies, dropping them both gently to the ground. They land in crouches, looking like criminals caught red-handed.
“You’re both grounded,” I snap.
Morty immediately whines. “Auntie?—!”
“Grounded.No engines, no climbing gear, no late night snacks.”
“But—”
“Steven,” I say, turning on my son.
He straightens, face solemn. “Mother.”
“We are going to have a very long talk about respect, privacy, and not being a miniature pervert.”
“Yes, mother.”
“Andyou,” I point at Morty, “are supposed to be the older one.”
“Yeah, but Steven’s got the brains. I’m just the looks.”
Sagax groans softly beside me. “We are doomed.”
I sigh and rub my temples. “Go. Both of you. Inside. Help Blondie scrub the mess hall floor until it shines.”
They bolt like the hounds of hell are on their heels. I wait until they’re out of sight before letting out a noise that’s somewhere between a scream and a laugh.
“Remember when we thought love would be the hardest part?” I ask Sagax, glancing up.
He smiles faintly. “I miss war.”
I snort and nudge his arm. “Liar.”
He takes my hand, threads our fingers together, and tugs me gently toward the path. “Come. We have fifteen minutes before someone else sets something on fire.”
We walk.
Not far, just along the garden’s edge, toward the orchard Tara started last spring. The trees are blooming pink and white, and the scent’s thick enough to taste. Bees drift lazily from blossom to blossom. The breeze is warm and sticky-sweet.
I lean against his side as we go, head resting just beneath his shoulder.
“You handled that well,” he says quietly.
“Wasn’t me. That was the voice of every tired mom on Earth before me.”
He hums. “We’re doing alright, aren’t we?”
I glance up. “With what?”
“Parenting. Life. This.”
I squeeze his hand. “We’re doing our best.”
He stops, pulling me into a loose hug. “It’s enough.”
I smile and bury my face in his chest, breathing him in—dirt, sunlight, and something uniquelyhim.
