Chapter 22-Amrin
I couldn’t believe this was happening.
A moment ago I’d been standing beneath the blue moon convinced my heart might burst from happiness.
Now?
I was standing at the edge of the Spring Equinox Festival facing my mother while my newly claimed celestial mate radiated enough restrained violence beside me to make the air physically vibrate.
Honestly, very on brand for mated Monsters from Runevald.
The night itself still felt dreamlike.
The floating lanterns drifting overhead.
The scent of sugar and smoke and magic curling through the carnival grounds.
The impossible glow of the ley lines streaking silver-green through the skies above Asgarheim.
And him.
Gods.
Sten was finally mine.
No, not Sten. Menon.
And just thinking his true name made warmth bloom low inside my chest.
He had claimed me publicly beneath the blessing of a literal moon god.
Me.
Amrin Cordoza.
The daughter nobody quite knew what to do with.
The late-blooming Witch who never fit anywhere properly.
The girl who spent most of her life feeling like unfinished magic wrapped in too-soft skin.
Yet he looked at me like I was destiny itself.
And maybe the most dangerous part?
I believed him.
I really did.
I’d already decided I was never sleeping another night without him if I could help it.
Wherever he was, that was my home now.
He was my home.
The matebond pulsing warmly between us confirmed it every few seconds like some smug magical heartbeat.
Still, there were some things I needed to handle before disappearing with my mate—preferably to his bed for the foreseeable future.
I squeezed Menon’s hand as we crossed through the glowing festival grounds toward the rides, still half-convinced I might wake up at any second and realize none of this had actually happened.
The claiming.
The moon blessing.
The way he looked at me like I was precious instead of disappointing.
All my life I had felt like something unfinished.
Too emotional.
Too soft.
Too weak.
Too much in some ways and never enough in others.
But now?
Now a celestial Monster from another realm was touching me like he never intended to stop.
Please, don’t stop.
The matebond pulsed warmly between us, every brush of his fingers against mine sending little sparks of awareness skating beneath my skin.
I felt protected, cherished, alive.
More alive than I ever had before.
The carnival lights reflected off the black sea surrounding Asgarheim while enchanted rides spun against the night sky.
Students laughed nearby. Music drifted through the cool air. Somewhere farther down the midway, a pair of Shifters argued loudly over fried dough.
And through all of it—Menon’s warmth anchored me.
His tail remained loosely curled around my waist possessively while his thumb brushed slowly over my knuckles.
Mine.
The bond practically hummed the word constantly now.
I smiled softly to myself.
Gods.
I was completely gone for him.
His tail remained wrapped securely around my hips as we crossed through the festival crowds together.
Every few steps his fingers brushed my lower back like he physically needed constant reassurance I remained beside him.
Honestly?
Same.
The matebond hummed warm and content every time we touched.
Magic sparked lazily beneath my skin too, brighter now than it had ever been in my entire life.
Like my power had spent years dormant beneath layers of insecurity and exhaustion waiting for the exact right catalyst to awaken it fully.
Menon.
The answer was Menon.
Not just sexually.
Not just emotionally.
Magically.
He completed me.
That one truth should have terrified me.
Instead it felt right.
Perfectly, wondrously right.
I squeezed his hand tighter as we neared the carnival rides overlooking the cliffs.
“Dr. Childs should be somewhere near the rides,” I explained quietly.
Menon nodded immediately.
“If she troubles you, we leave.”
The protective certainty in his voice warmed something deep inside me.
“She won’t.”
I hoped.
Honestly, Dr. Childs had always been one of the few adults in my life who treated me like I wasn’t broken beyond repair.
Then I spotted her.
The usual green sweater.
Same horn-rimmed glasses.
Same warm brown eyes.
Relief fluttered briefly through me.
Then I saw her.
And everything inside me stopped cold.
No.
Absolutely not.
Recognition slammed into me instantly alongside years of old emotional bruises.
“Mother?”
“Amrin,” Dr. Childs greeted me first.
The older woman turned immediately, surprise flashing across her face before softening into a smile.
Her gaze moved quickly over me, lingering briefly on my joined hands with Menon, the faint glowing mate marks along my skin, and the very obvious celestial Monster attached to my side.
My mother frowned, but didn’t speak.
“Well. You look significantly better than when we last spoke,” Dr. Childs added.
I laughed nervously.
“Yeah. About that. I, um, I think I know why I always had trouble sleeping.”
She studied me carefully.
“Really? And how is the insomnia?”
The question would have embarrassed me once.
Now?
Now I almost wanted to laugh at the cosmic absurdity of it all.
“Fine! Perfect even. See, I think we were wrong,” I admitted softly.
Menon’s fingers tightened around mine.
Dr. Childs tilted her head curiously.
“Oh?”
“I wasn’t sick,” I said slowly, still trying to fully process it myself. “Or unstable or chemically imbalanced or emotionally disordered or any of the other things everyone kept assuming.”
My throat tightened slightly.
“It was always just my magic trying to align itself.”
Understanding flickered across her face instantly.
“You mean to say your magic has a nocturnal affinity? But no one in the Cordoza line—I’m astonished, Amrin, and so sorry we missed it!”
I nodded quickly.
“Yes, well, even Professor Kenna believes it. I’m a Lunar Witch.”
Just saying it aloud felt surreal.
Magic crackled faintly at my fingertips in response.
“Well, imagine that!” Dr. Childs nodded enthusiastically, while my mother’s frown deepened.
I forced myself to continue addressing my former doctor, knowing my mother wouldn’t interrupt and hoping, really hoping, that maybe she might relent.
That the woman who bore me might actually believe in me for the first time in my life.
“I think,” I swallowed hard. “I think my magic and my body really, was simply preparing me to meet him. My mate.”
My mate.
The words settled warmly in my chest.
Menon looked down at me then with such devastating tenderness my knees nearly weakened.
Dr. Childs followed my gaze toward him.
The celestial runes beneath his blue skin glowed softly beneath the festival lights while silver moonlight clung to his dark hair and massive frame.
He looked terrifying.
Beautiful.
Ancient.
And entirely focused on me.
“Ah, that would be an excellent explanation for all the years of sleeplessness and seeming difficulty with your casting. We never did try any lunar spells,” Dr. Childs said quietly.
Not judgmental.
Not shocked.
Just thoughtful.
A beat of silence stretched with no interruption, and I felt hope unfurl inside my chest.
Maybe this confrontation wouldn’t be as hard as I imagined.
But I was wrong.
Right then another voice sliced through the moment like ice.
“Or perhaps you were always right, Dr. Childs. Perhaps you are simply not well, Amrin.”
Every muscle in my body locked instantly.
Mother.
Evelyn Cordoza stepped closer from the shadows beside Dr. Childs, elegant and severe beneath the floating lantern lights.
My stomach dropped hard.
The warmth of the matebond remained steady beneath my ribs, but old instincts still twisted painfully inside me at the sight of her.
Years of disappointment did not disappear overnight.
“Mother,” I repeated carefully.
Her gaze swept over me critically.
Then over Menon.
Then over our joined hands.
Disapproval sharpened visibly across her face.
“Always so desperate for approval, Amrin. Well, I see the rumors were true.”
Menon shifted slightly closer immediately.
Protective.
Always protective.
I felt the growl vibrate low in his chest before he controlled it.
“You’ve always had difficulties,” my mother continued carefully, as if speaking to someone unstable. “Emotional episodes. Obsessions. Problems separating fantasy from reality.”
Each word landed like a bruise.
The old shame tried rising instantly.
The familiar horrible feeling that maybe everyone had always been right about me.
Except now, the matebond pushed back.
Warm.
Steady.
Certain.
And beside me stood a male who looked at me like I hung the fucking stars.
“No,” I said quietly.
My mother blinked slightly.
“No?” she repeated sharply.
“No.” My voice strengthened. “I spent years thinking something was wrong with me because no one bothered listening when I tried explaining what I experienced.”
Dr. Childs looked uncomfortable now.
Good.
Let them all feel uncomfortable.
“I couldn’t sleep at all when I was little,” I continued shakily.
“I imagined things. I saw things at nighttime. Magic reacted strangely around me.”
Emotion clogged painfully in my throat.
“And instead of asking why, everyone decided I was unstable.”
Menon’s hand gripped mine, his tail wound tighter around my waist—and that small reassurance of his presence grounded me.
“That is unfair,” my mother snapped immediately.
“Is it?” I whispered.
Silence.
Raw painful silence.
Because we both knew it wasn’t.
I remembered psychiatrists. Healers. Doctors.
Medications.
Incantations.
Tinctures.
Whispered conversations outside locked doors.
Family members exchanging worried looks whenever I spoke too openly about what I saw.
Not one person had asked if maybe the dead little girl talking to spirits wasn’t hallucinating.
They’d simply wanted me quieter.
Easier.
More manageable.
“I am not crazy and I never was,” I said softly.
Menon’s tail tightened around my waist protectively.
“That’s right, Luna,” he said coldly beside me. “You’re not crazy.”
My mother’s gaze flicked toward him sharply.
“And you think you are good for her? You encourage her delusions!”
Delusions.
The word detonated something inside me.
Blue sparks jumped violently from my fingertips.
The air around us crackled.
Nearby lanterns flickered hard enough several passing students startled.
Menon immediately rested one calming hand against my lower back.
Not restraining.
Grounding.
“Mother,” I said slowly, my voice shaking now from anger instead of fear, “I literally attend a multiversal magical graduate institution hidden between realities and I’m standing here now beside my mate who is basically a celestial Monster prince and I am telling you, I am done.
You’ve got to stop trying to manage me!”
I gestured broadly around us.
“As for delusions, at what point exactly does any of this become too unrealistic for you?”
Dr. Childs choked suddenly on what sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
Even Menon made a low amused sound beside me.
My mother, unfortunately, remained entirely humorless.
“You have always been emotional,” Mother insisted tightly.
“And you’ve always mistaken emotion for weakness,” I fired back.
That hit.
I saw it.
A tiny crack in her perfect composure.
Menon watched the exchange silently, though I could physically feel the tension coiling through him now.
Protective rage.
The bond carried it clearly.
Not because I argued with my mother.
Because she hurt me.
The realization softened something painfully inside my chest.
No one had ever stood beside me like this before.
Not truly.
Not without eventually asking me to become smaller first.
But Menon?
Menon looked ready to tear apart entire realms simply because someone made me feel unwanted.
Dangerous.
Possibly unhealthy.
Extremely romantic.
“Madam Cordoza, you simply do not understand what Amrin is,” Menon said quietly then. “But I assure you, she is quite remarkable.”
The calm certainty in his voice cut through the tension instantly.
My mother looked toward him cautiously.
“And what exactly is my daughter?” she asked.
Menon’s arm wrapped fully around my waist.
“She is mine,” he answered simply.