Moth to Her Flame (Mated to the Monster: Season 3)

8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

R iven

Pain ricochets through my skull like lightning, but the solar panel array provides a welcome distraction. The mountain sunrise illuminates the obvious problem—no wonder Chelsea’s broadcast kept cutting out last night. Though I was huddled in the backseat of the old Ford and too tired to move, I managed to listen on my phone.

I’ve forced myself into a vertical position, climbed onto her roof, and am focusing on her technical issue. It helps dull the constant ache of being too far from her.

“You’re going to electrocute yourself,” Volt rumbles from behind me, his massive form casting a shadow across me as he comes in for a landing.

My wings twitch in annoyance. “Some of us solve problems without summoning thunderstorms.” The panel creaks as I move it to change the angle, seeking the optimal position. “Besides, the wiring’s completely—” Static electricity crackles up my arm. “…safe.”

Volt’s thunderous laugh echoes across the mountain. “Clearly.” His golden feathers shimmer as he settles beside me, head tilted. “You could just tell her, you know. About the bond. About what happens if—”

“Right, because that conversation would go so well.” The panel finally clicks into place. “‘Hey, sorry about the whole stalking thing, but turns out if you don’t let me touch you occasionally, I’ll literally die’. That’ll definitely make her trust me more. No. More than trust. That sounds like the foundation of a beautiful relationship, don’t you think?”

Volt rolls his eyes at me and doesn’t deign to give me a response. I’ve never seen that exasperated expression on his face before.

Last night’s broadcast replays in my mind—her voice discussing mysterious lights in the valley with Professor Pete, some academic who actually takes her seriously. The memory of her calm, husky voice sends a spark of longing through me, pleasure and pain intertwined.

Volt’s large head swings toward the cabin. “She has a right to know how serious this is for you.”

“She has a right to choose .” Another wave of pain hits, and my wings curl inward involuntarily. “Without feeling coerced by my… condition.”

“Your ‘condition’ is getting worse. I can sense it—the energy patterns in your body are destabilized. How long since any physical contact?”

“Thirty hours and,” I glance at my phone, “twelve minutes. Approximately.”

“Riven.” His voice is filled with an odd combination of support and censure.

“I’m managing it.” The lie tastes bitter. “The research helps. If I can understand the technical side of her setup, maybe…” The words trail off as another surge of pain momentarily whites out my vision.

Volt’s wing brushes mine—a gesture of comfort that does nothing to ease the soul-deep ache. “You’re not just some equipment she needs to maintain. You’re her mate, whether she accepts it yet or not.”

“I’m a monster who appeared on her doorstep and won’t leave. By the way, in case you missed it, I happen to be good at reading body language. Every time her gaze lands on me, it’s all she can do to suppress her shudder of revulsion.” The truth of it burns. “She deserves better than being stuck with someone who makes her skin crawl.”

“She’s stronger than you give her credit for,” Volt observes. “And smarter. She’ll figure it out, eventually.”

“Maybe.” The pain recedes slightly as I lose myself in the technical puzzle of the wiring harness. “But for now, I can at least make sure her equipment works properly.”

Volt rises, wingspan blocking out the morning sun. “Just remember—you’re not the only one who needs something here. She’s isolated, broadcasting into the void, searching for truth. Sound familiar?”

With a crack of thunder that rattles the solar panels, he launches into the sky, leaving me alone with my work and the endless ache of separation.

The distance between Chelsea and me stretches like an open wound. Thirty hours, twenty-five minutes, and counting.