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

Sneak Peek Devilishly Hers

Dante

The problem with breaking into Apex Evolution Technologies isn’t their security system, though they’ve spared no expense protecting their secret research facility buried deep in an abandoned mine. Their guards are predictable, their cameras have blind spots, and their electronic locks won’t stand a chance against Volt’s electricity.

No, the real challenge is knowing their brilliant biochemist—the one who risked everything to warn us about their plans to weaponize cryptid abilities—is trapped inside, probably being “questioned” about the classified data she smuggled out to us.

“Another patrol passing the west corridor,” Volt’s static-laden whisper crackles through my earpiece. “Four minutes until the next rotation.”

My tail lashes with barely contained tension. The surveillance footage Dr. Andrews managed to leak showed exactly what Apex does to those who betray them. Just remembering the clinical brutality of their “enhanced interrogation” makes my skin shift from crimson to obsidian.

“Any change in her location?” I keep my voice low, though my voice reverberates in the maintenance shaft I’m hiding.

“She’s still in Cell 23B.” Electricity charges Volt’s words. “But they’re prepping for another ‘treatment’ session. Whatever you’re going to do, do it fast.”

The memory of our failed rescue attempt last week burns like acid—the flash of light that took her down mid-stride, the thumb drive she managed to pass to us that exposed Apex’s military contracts. We won’t fail her again. Can’t fail her, not when she’s enduring their “hospitality” because she chose to help creatures most humans consider monsters.

“Security cameras looping on my mark,” Volt’s deep voice rumbles. “Checkpoint clear in three… two…”

The lights flicker as his electricity disrupts the systems. I move fast, despite my damaged wing’s protest. The checkpoint doors slide open with a soft hiss, revealing sterile white corridors as the harsh smell of antiseptic burns my nose.

“East wing secured.” Volt’s voice is tense. “But we’ve got movement in the labs. Hurry!”

The surveillance footage Dr. Andrews leaked showed exactly what Apex’s “treatments” entail. Just thinking about it makes my fangs ache with the need to tear something apart. The woman who put her life on the line to warn us about Apex’s plans doesn’t deserve their retaliation.

Cell 23B. The lock doesn’t stand a chance against Volt’s precise electrical burst. Inside, harsh fluorescent light illuminates a scene that makes something hot and violent curl in my chest.

Dr. Andrews—Blair, according to her personnel file—slumps in a chair, waves of brown hair falling across her face. Monitoring equipment surrounds her, tracking vital signs with clinical precision. Dried tear tracks on her cheeks tell a story I don’t want to read.

“Found her.” Moving quickly, I check her pulse. “Steady but slow. They’ve got her on something heavy.”

Her eyes flutter at my touch, struggling to focus. “Not… telling…” The words slur together. “Won’t let you…”

“Easy, Doc.” Carefully, I remove the monitors, keeping my voice light despite the fury building in my gut. “Rescue party of one, at your service.”

A crease appears between her brows. “You’re… a Jersey Devil?”

“What gave it away? The devilishly handsome looks or the timely rescue?” My fangs flash in what I hope is a reassuring grin.

Her quiet laugh turns into a cough. “Sarcasm… matches reports…”

“My reputation precedes me.” But her attempt at humor despite obvious fear sparks unexpected warmth. “Think you can hold on if I carry you?”

She manages a tiny nod before her eyes roll back. Right. Time to go.

Gathering her carefully against my chest, I try not to notice how perfectly she fits there. Or how her fingers curl into my shirt as though seeking safety even while unconscious. My wings curve forward instinctively, creating a protective shelter around her slight form despite the sharp pain in my injured right wing.

“Package secured.” Speaking quietly into my comm. “Exit route clear?”

“Two guards approaching west stairs.” Volt’s warning carries urgency. “Take the maintenance shaft. And Dante? More company just arrived at the loading docks. Hurry.”

“Hear that, Doc? Looks like we’re taking the service entrance.” Adjusting my grip on the unconscious scientist. “Less glamorous, but I’ll try to make it memorable.”

No response. Her breathing stays steady but shallow against my chest. Whatever they gave her, it’s strong enough to keep her under despite my brisk movements. My injured wing protests as we navigate the narrow maintenance shaft, but I barely notice the pain. Not when she burrows closer, seeking warmth or safety or both.

Something protective and fierce unfurls in my chest—an instinct I’ll examine later. Much later. For now, there’s a brilliant, mysterious woman to rescue. And if the price of success is enduring a little more pain, keeping a few more secrets?

Well, that’s a bargain this devil is willing to make.

Some mysteries solve themselves slowly.

Some secrets are better kept hidden.

And some rescues have consequences that no amount of analysis can explain.