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

37. Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Seven

C helsea

The world explodes in blinding light. Through watering eyes, I see Riven’s wings snap outward, taking the brunt of whatever the drone fired. He staggers but stays upright, shielding me even as his antennae and wings lose all muscle control and hang limply.

“Dante, get her out!” His voice sounds wrong, strained, wrenched from somewhere inside him that most of us are lucky enough to never have to find.

“No!” But Cypher is already dragging me backward as more drones pour through the doorway. Each one emits that high-pitched frequency that’s clearly designed to incapacitate cryptids. Dante’s staggering too, his usually graceful movements turning clumsy.

The last thing I see before Cypher yanks me around the corner is Riven launching himself at the drones, wings spread wide despite their sickly bronze color. Oh, my God! What is he thinking? He’s drawing their fire. Drawing them away from us.

“That idiot’s going to get himself killed,” Dante snarls, shoving a flash drive into my hands. “Everything we found. Keep it safe.”

Another scream echoes through the facility—closer this time. Human. Female. Desperate.

“We can’t just—”

“Two minutes.” Cypher’s feline tail whips with agitation. “If we don’t reach the exit before their containment team, we’re all—”

The heavy thud of boots on metal stairs cuts him off. Coming from both directions. That horrible whine grows stronger, making both cryptids flinch.

“There.” Dante points to a maintenance shaft barely wide enough for a person. “It connects to the drainage system. Marina’s waiting.”

“But, Riven…”

“Can’t help him if we’re caught.” Cypher lifts me toward the shaft. “And he’ll die for nothing if you’re captured.”

He’s right. God, he’s right, but leaving feels like having my heart ripped from my chest. Especially when a sound like thunder shakes the corridor, followed by an electric crack. Is that noise the cryptid containment fields activating?

The shaft is tight, dark, and smells like rust and mold. Dante urges me on with encouraging whispers while Cypher brings up the rear. Every few seconds, that soul-destroying whine pulses through the metal walls.

Then it stops.

The silence is worse.

We emerge into the drainage tunnel where Marina waits, scales reflecting the red flickers of emergency lighting. Her silver eyes widen at our filthy, bedraggled condition—or maybe at who’s missing.

“They’ve captured him.” The words taste bitter. “We have to—”

“Have to get this data somewhere safe first.” Dante’s voice is gentle but firm. “Or everyone who risked everything tonight suffers for nothing.”

“Including Riven,” Cypher adds quietly.

Including Dr. Andrews, whose scream I’ll hear in my nightmares forever. Including Riven, who sacrificed himself to buy us time. Including every cryptid in those labs whose suffering we just discovered.

“How long?” My voice sounds strange in my own ears. “How long until the bond-sickness…”

“Two days. Maybe three.” Marina’s webbed hands guide me toward the exit. “If they don’t kill him first.”

“They won’t.” Dante’s devilish tail lashes. “He’s too valuable. Did you see where he ranked on their acquisition list?”

Somehow that’s worse. The thought of him in their labs, being studied, drained, experimented on…

“Twenty-four hours.” The words emerge stronger than I feel. “We assess the data, make a plan, and go back in. With everything we’ve got.”

Because leaving him there is not an option.

Because the bond isn’t just about physical contact anymore.

Because the thought of him alone in that place, growing weaker by the hour, makes breathing physically painful.

I’m going to rescue him if it’s the last thing I do.