Page 46 of The Monster's Daughter

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My chest aches. My hands tremble. And still—I back away.

Confused. Conflicted. Breathless.

Because if this is real, if it’s more than ghosts and guilt and old wounds…

Then I have everything to lose.

CHAPTER 28

KAGE

The knock rattles through the quiet like a pebble against glass. At first I ignore it, figuring it’s some neighbor or delivery drone. But it comes again—louder, impatient.

I drag myself out of bed, the blanket still warm with Bella’s scent. Soap. Citrus. The faintest tang of copper from the scars she tries to ignore. My muscles ache from pretending to sleep beside her instead of wrapping her against me like instinct demands.

The knock becomes a thump.

I unlatch the door—and stare down at a tiny human with a plastic sword.

Natalie.

Her grin takes up half her face. “Wanna play pirate?”

I blink, throat rumbling. “Pirate?”

She waves the sword like it’s a holy relic. “I’m the captain. You’re the monster.”

I tilt my head. “Only if I get to eat the captain first.”

Her shriek of delight nearly knocks me backward. She charges past me into the living room, swinging the sword at invisible enemies.

Ten minutes later, I’m crouched low on all fours, frills flared, tail sweeping the carpet.

“RAAARGH!” I roar, rattling the windows.

Natalie squeals and lunges, stabbing my tail with the blunt plastic blade.

“Got you, monster!” she declares, tiny voice triumphant.

I collapse dramatically, claws clutching my chest. “Nooo. Not the tail. Anything but that.”

She bounces onto the couch, sword held high. “The monster is DEFEATED!”

I twitch once, growl low, and snatch her up with both hands, spinning her overhead. She screams with laughter, legs kicking as I growl: “Or is he?”

Bella leans against the kitchen counter, mug steaming in her hands. She’s watching, lips twitching like she’s fighting a smile. Her eyes are softer than I’ve seen them in years.

“You look ridiculous,” she mutters, taking a sip.

I roar louder, letting the sound rattle the light fixtures, then flop sideways, tiara askew on my horns—Natalie insisted I wear it.

“She made me,” I growl.

Bella snorts. “Yeah, sure. Big scary monster conquered by a five-year-old with a toy sword and a glitter crown.”

“Sea monster,” I correct. “There’s a difference.”

Natalie pats my snout. “Don’t listen to Mommy. You’re the BEST monster.”

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