Page 25 of The Monster's Daughter
Every time we reach for freedom, it moves to trap us. Not random. Not chance. It’schoosing.
And worse—its focus isn’t me. Not my parents. Not the Alliance.
It’s her.
I glance at Bella. She’s shaking, but steady. Fierce, even under terror. My chest aches with something sharp and possessive.
No.
I won’t lose her. I can’t.
Not after everything.
We retreat deeper into the mountains, silence thick. Bella keeps her weapon close, knuckles pale. I stay near her side, every sense straining, waiting for another ambush.
Night falls heavy, moonlight painting the cliffs in cold silver. We shelter under a jagged outcrop, a fire burning small and low. She falls asleep against the rock, exhaustion dragging her under.
I keep watch.
Her face glows soft in the firelight, lashes twitching, lips parted as she breathes. Her hand rests near mine, close enough I could touch if I let myself.
Instead, I curl my claws into my palms, holding the ache in my chest.
I will tear Nulegion apart, limb by limb, byte by byte. I will burn every scrap of it to ash before I let it take her.
She is mine.
And I am hers.
Whether she admits it yet or not.
CHAPTER 17
BELLA
The canyon yawns below me like the throat of some sleeping beast. Wind claws at my hair, grit stinging my face, but I keep the shard of mirror steady between my fingers. The glass is cracked, edges jagged enough to slice, but it throws a hard beam of sunlight down into the ravine, flashing like a heartbeat. Three short, three long, three short. Old signal. The kind you only learn if you’ve done too many emergency drills.
“Tell me again why you’re dangling off a cliff with a razor blade,” Kage rumbles from behind me, voice low but carrying over the wind.
“Because that’s how you call for help without a comm,” I snap, biting back a shiver as I lean out farther. “Now hush before I lose my hand.”
He mutters something in his own language, frills rippling, but his claws hover near my pack straps like he’s ready to yank me back at the first sign of trouble. His shadow stretches long over the stone, a dark outline with silver glints.
Below, a flicker of motion.
The ship.
Not a sleek predator drone this time, but a real patrol vessel, its hull scuffed and patched. It glides along the canyon’s belly slow and deliberate, scanners sweeping like lazy eyes. My heartbeat spikes.
“They see us?” Kage asks.
“They will,” I mutter, angling the mirror again. The light bounces sharp against the cliff. “Come on, come on…”
The ship banks, engines whining. It slows. Tilts.
“They saw us,” I whisper.
It lands on a flat ledge below, thrusters gusting hot wind and ash up into my face. The smell of scorched metal and hydraulic fluid hits me hard.
