Page 12 of The Monster's Daughter
CHAPTER 9
BELLA
The mountains don’t care about my legs, my lungs, or my temper.
Loose shale slides under every step like ball bearings. My boots fill with grit until it feels like walking on knives. The air tastes like rust and burnt ozone, every breath scraping my throat raw. And when the wind shifts, it brings with it the hiss of irradiated sand—tiny, stinging flechettes of glass that chew at my skin.
I hunch my shoulders against it, cursing as another gust slaps me across the face. “You’re a sadist, you know that?” I bark at the massive silhouette plowing ahead of me. “Total mountain fetish. Bet you’re loving this.”
Kage doesn’t even look back. Just grunts, low and steady, carrying most of the supplies without a word like the incline doesn’t exist.
I slip, shale sliding out from under my heel. “Shit!” My palms scrape stone as I catch myself. I glare at his broad back, all black scales and silver streaks. “Oh yeah, sure, just keep walking. Don’t mind me. I’ll die dramatically back here.”
Still nothing. Just a faint twitch of his neck frills.
I scramble up after him, muttering, “Sadist. Total sadist. Probably gets off on watching humans eat dirt.”
His voice rumbles back through the wind. “If you die dramatically, it will be very inconvenient.”
My head snaps up. “Oh my god, did you just make ajoke?”
He glances over his shoulder, silver eyes catching the pale light. “No.”
I roll my eyes and keep trudging. My calves are on fire, my lips taste like copper from biting them to keep going, and every time I look up, the path just gets steeper. He moves like the incline is nothing, his massive frame balanced and sure. I hate him for it. I envy him for it.
And gods help me, I keep watching him anyway.
By the time night creeps down the slopes, the wind’s turned mean, cutting across the path like a blade. Kage ducks into a narrow cave opening half-hidden by a slab of rock, and I follow, grateful to get out of the stinging sand.
Inside, it’s cramped and dark, smelling of cold stone and old minerals. My boots crunch over what used to be a supply cache—broken crates, a cracked helmet. Kage sets down the packs and begins rigging a heater with salvaged batteries. His claws move deftly, sparks flicking into the dim like fireflies.
I flop down against the wall, sliding my back along cool stone. “Wow,” I pant, wiping grit from my face. “You really know how to show a girl a good time. Hiking up a death mountain and crashing in a hole in the wall. So romantic.”
Kage’s neck frills flare, a ripple of silver and black. “Romantic?”
I snort. “Yeah, you know, candlelight dinners, bearskin rugs, cave ambiance. Super hot.”
He blinks at me, head tilted like a puzzled dog. “This is a romantic cave?”
I burst out laughing before I can stop myself. It bubbles up from somewhere deep, rusty and wild, startling even me. The sound echoes off the cave walls, bouncing back twice as loud.
Kage stares, then the corner of his mouth does something I’ve never seen—pulls up, just a little. A smirk. He gets it.
“Ah,” he rumbles, still working on the heater. “Human sarcasm.”
“Finally!” I throw my hands up. “He’s learning!”
Dinner is quiet. Too quiet. The heater hums low, its glow casting orange light across jagged rock. The ration packs taste like chalk and grease, but after the climb, I don’t even care.
Kage sits across from me, his massive frame taking up half the space. He eats slow, deliberate, every motion careful like he’s aware of how huge he is. He’s always aware, I’m realizing—of his space, his weight, his presence. He’s so… present.
I watch him without meaning to. The way the light runs along his scales. The subtle flex of muscle when he shifts. The way his eyes flick to mine, then away, like he feels me watching.
My body reacts before my brain can stop it. My pulse speeds. My face feels hot, though the cave is freezing. Maybe it’s trauma. Maybe it’s the bond. Maybe it’s just that he’s—goddammit—hot as hell for a massive lizard man.
I reach to hand him another ration bar. Our fingers brush. Skin to scale.
Electricity snaps between us like a live wire. It’s not subtle this time. It’s a jolt, a heat that travels up my arm and into my chest until my breath hitches.
