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

35. Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Five

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Riven’s wing curves around me as we study the holographic display Dante’s rigged in the great hall. His touch grounds me, each small contact sending sparks of energy through his slowly dimming wings. After last night, he’s stronger, but we both know it’s temporary. Like putting a bandage on a wound that needs stitches.

“Most of the files are corrupted. Dr. Andrews might have been interrupted in the middle of a download,” Dante explains, claws clicking against his tablet. “But what’s readable is… disturbing.” A 3D blueprint materializes—some kind of medical facility retrofitted inside an old industrial complex.

“This appears to be every inch of their temporary setup,” Volt rumbles, electricity crackling between his feathers. “Until the main facility at Starfire Peak is operational.”

Cypher’s feline tail lashes. “It’s all the information we need to retrieve her.” He glances away, then mumbles, “That is… if she’s still alive.”

“She is.” My hand finds Riven’s as images from the drive flash past—high-tech medical equipment, containment specs, and things that look disturbingly like operating tables—with shackles.

“They were treating her body carefully,” Volt adds. He should know; he was in the air and had the best view. “I don’t believe she’s dead. They must need her.”

“For this.” Dante pulls up a partial document. “Project Chrysalis. This confirms they’re not just studying cryptids—they’re trying to extract and transfer abilities.”

Marina coils closer from where she was watching in the shadows, scales reflecting the hologram’s blue light. “The aquatics were first. Smaller water sprites, undines…” She eases closer to the projector, then shivers uncontrollably. “Looks like none survived the extraction process.”

My fingers tighten around Riven’s as his wings pull me closer. “But they’re still trying?”

“With increasingly complex subjects.” Dante highlights another fragment. “They need Dr. Andrews’ expertise to stabilize the transfer process. And look what’s on their priority acquisition list.”

The word “Mothman” floats in glowing text, followed by detailed notes about adaptive and energy-sensing abilities.

“They can’t have him.” The words emerge fiercer than I intended. Riven’s answering wing-squeeze sends warmth through my chest but does nothing to dim my fury.

“We need to retrieve her. It will be harder this time.” Volt stalks from one end of the chamber to the other as he talks. “We won’t be able to pick her up outside the facility like we just tried. We’ll have to find a way in.”

“Looks like we have two objectives.” Cliff’s deep, gritty voice cuts through rising murmurs. “Rescue Dr. Andrews and retrieve her research. Both could prove crucial when they activate the main facility they’re building.”

Volt’s wings spread, imposing in the crystal-lit chamber. “We’ll need teams. Dante handles tech, I’ll run aerial reconnaissance—”

“Using the old signals only,” I interrupt. “Their monitoring equipment is too sophisticated for modern comms.”

“Cypher,” Cliff nods to the Shadow Cat, “leads the ground team. Marina covers the water access—there’s a reservoir feeding their cooling systems.”

“I’ll go in.” My voice cuts through their discussion. “I can authenticate research documents, recognize medical terminology.”

“No.” Riven’s wings flare with protective instinct, his grip on my hand tightening. “Absolutely not.”

“I’ve done a deep dive into her online presence and read some of her research. I’ll know if documents are genuine.” The journalist in me surfaces. “Plus, I can spot signs of document tampering.”

His antennae flatten against his hair and his expression hardens. “It’s too dangerous. I’ll handle the interior—”

“You can barely maintain your energy levels.” My thumb strokes his antenna, gentling the words. “And you need me close for that.”

Volt’s electricity crackles. “She has a point. About both the documents and your condition.”

“We’ll need someone who understands scientific documentation,” Dante adds. “Otherwise, we risk grabbing the wrong data.”

Riven’s wings curl tighter around me, betraying his conflict. Finally, he exhales. “You stay within arm’s reach. Any sign of trouble—”

“We retreat. Together.”

The planning continues around us. Maps are studied, gear is checked, and signals are rehearsed. Through it all, Riven maintains constant contact—a wing draped across my shoulders, fingers intertwined, his cheek brushing mine. Each touch strengthens him slightly, though we both know it’s not enough for permanent healing. There’s only one thing that can do that, and it comes with a high price—forever.

“Two hours to full dark,” Volt announces. “Get ready.”

As the others disperse, Riven pulls me closer. His probe traces my temple in what’s become a familiar gesture of affection. “I still don’t like this. You should stay here where it’s safe.”

“I appreciate your concern.” Standing on tiptoe, I kiss him briefly. “But it’s the right call.”

His wings glow with golden light as we gear up, neither of us mentioning the dangers ahead.

Some missions require careful focus.

We have work to do.