The Monster's Fated Mate

Chapter One

Haide

“Did you just say…mate?” I hiss.

Swiping my blade from the ground, I kick up as it lands right at the horned figure’s throat. He catches my wrist before the tip lands, fingers locking around my hand. I slam my other into his ribs with the second blade, but it skids off him without a single fucking scratch.

“Fuck you.”

He says nothing.

I wrench free enough to drive my knee toward his stomach, but he turns with it, huge body angling at the last second, and my kneecap cracks against solid muscle.

Pain shoots up my thigh, but I use it anyway, pivoting on my good foot, dropping low, and slicing the back of his leg.

He moves—fast. Way too fast for his size, because all it takes is one step back, using what’s left of my dress to haul me into his chest.

Shit.

My other hand swings, aiming for under his arm, but he catches that wrist too, and now I’m pinned. Chest to chest with yet another monster that claims I’m his.

I jerk my head forward and smash my forehead into his face, but he doesn’t move. Not a damn inch.

A growl vibrates through him and into me, a low, rough sound, and then he throws me over the damn cliff.

I curse, knowing what comes next and planning exactly what I’m going to do about it when I get my hands around that fucker’s neck the next time I have the absolute displeasure of seeing his—if I can even call it a him—face.

Wind rushes through my hair as the ocean grows closer, and I’d roll my eyes if they weren’t about to pop out of my head.

How cliché of him to try to kill me. And what a little bitch to do it in such a boring way. Tossing me over a cliffside? I mean, come on! Hitting the water from this high will be like crashing into a sheet of ice. I won’t even feel a thing.

But something slams into me from below, breaking my fall and knocking the air out of my lungs.

I know the feel of it beneath my hands. Scales.

Thyrix?

His long neck snaps, my body once again meeting air and then he’s above me, his claws curling around my torso, tearing at this ridiculous gown I’d love nothing more than to rip from my body.

His wings beat hard, banking us sideways over the shoreline, and I slap his foreleg twice because that’s our thing.

Two taps. I’m good. I’m alive, and I’m not bleeding.

He doesn’t rumble back.

Normally, he’d give me something. A huff or a low vibration through his chest. Something.

Anything. He’s small for a dragon, barely the size of a fishing vessel, but he’s meaner than anything twice his weight.

And he’s mine. Has been ever since I can remember.

Since I was old enough to stop fearing them and start respecting what they are.

But right now he’s furious.

“Thy, come on.” I pet his scales, bright blue that catch light and almost go transparent. “I’ve had a bad fucking day. It’s not my fault I left you.”

Nothing.

He drops me on the cliff’s edge and I mean drops me—releasing his grip just high enough that my knees buckle when I hit rock. I stumble, catching myself with both palms, and I’m about to yell at him when the heat hits my ass.

A short, precise burst. Just enough to singe a clean hole through the side of my dress.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Thyrix laughs, a clicking sound in his throat, and then he’s gone—shooting upward and banking lazy circles above the tree line where he can keep surveillance.

“I’m a little possessive of my mate.” The horned beast’s words from earlier echo through my mind. Is he fucking joking?

I smack the singed fabric against my thigh, trying to force every memory that the word mate alone triggers.

As soon as I’ve put out the flame, my legs give out and my ass hits the ground with a thud. This isn’t me. I don’t get sad, or mope about anything much less not being wanted.

Leaning back on my hands, I look up to the sky, to where the portal clearly spat me out. I hate the fucking sky now. And the ocean.

I even hate the scales of Thyrix purely because of the similarities to his eyes, and they’ve always been my favorite.

Thyrix flaps his wings, sending a sandstorm over my head. Moody bastard. He’s never going to forgive me for leaving.

I shove to my feet, squinting through the sand as it finally begins to clear. “You’re a real dick, you know that!”

Steam blows from his nostrils before he lands in front of me with two thousand pounds of force, knocking me off balance.

He brings his face closer to mine in a plume of brimstone and smoke. It’s hard to ignore his beauty this close, especially with the sun catching every palette of blue in his eyes.

Just like his eyes.

I clench my teeth and turn away. That’s probably why he sent me back here instead of locking me in some fancy dungeon. So I can be triggered by the sky, the ocean, the fucking eyes and scales of my favorite dragon. I don’t care if he didn’t know about Thyrix. He can take the blame for that too.

Just another twisted way for fate to fuck its least favorite child—give me a fake mate with eyes the color of everything that surrounds me. Bullshit.

I stomp my way down the rocky terrain—the farthest point to travel on the island. Clearly, not far enough.

Thyrix huffs at my back and I stop, turning over my shoulder with a sigh.

“I get it! You’re pissed, same, my guy! Same. But listen!” I tilt my head. “It wasn’t my fault. Can we do this later? After I’ve killed a beast, slept, drank, and found Zev?”

Thy huffs, shifting his feet until dust kicks up between us and he launches back into the sky.

“I guess that’s a yes?” I mutter, turning back onto my path with Thyrix hovering above the trees, but still following. So nonchalant, Thy…

Thyrix is on edge more than usual. I can’t really blame him.

The dragons guard the island. One of their main jobs is to keep us or anyone else from pointless escape attempts.

The fact that I was gone for weeks doesn’t help, since this whole ordeal has probably put the whole flock of them on high alert.

But again—I didn’t make that fucking choice.

Not to mention, out of everyone on this island, I am the only one who has the random ability to leave it, not that anyone knows that.

Well, I’m sure the dragons do deep down. They know everything. But still, I’ve never tried to outrun exile because where the hell would I even go?

Okay, so maybe I snuck out with London that one time and yes, I can see now in hindsight that was the literal worst mistake of my damn life.

If I hadn’t freed her from this place, I never would have met Legend fucking Deveraux: the baby prince I’d gut if I got a second chance.

The moment I picture the gloriously gruesome act, my stomach dips and my legs give out. My chest caves in and every breath feels like my lungs can’t expand.

What the hell?

“Fuck!” I clench my eyes closed, panting. Slowly, the feeling fades, leaving my lungs starved and limbs aching. “Fucking really?” I push to my feet. There’s obviously some weird lingering bond juice left inside of me. “Can’t even daydream about kill—”

I stop, a chill spreading over the ladder of my spine. Someone is watching me and they think I don’t know, which is either a compliment to their skills or an insult to mine.

Seconds spread as I scan every shaded area I can see. Maybe I’m still paranoid, or maybe I’ve turned into a precious little Rathian.

Shaking it off, I pull myself together and continue through the thread of trees. I’ve hunted, run, and known this island like the back of my hand, and no amount of time spent away will change that.

Shifting a large branch out of my way, a smile spreads over my face at the sight of something familiar. The boulder sits right at the center of the flattest section, and I squeeze between the bushes surrounding it, ignoring the bite of thorns that graze my skin as I come out the other side.

I cover the scratches with my hand, cleaning the drops of blood away when that same feeling drifts through me like a ghost in passing.

The hairs on my neck raise as gasoline and smoke weigh the air down with a scent that doesn’t belong here.

It’s not the same kind of smoke that the dragons smell of, this is…

heavy, dirty. It sticks to the back of my throat and refuses to leave.

Cautiously, I step fully into the clearing, reaching for my hidden dagger on instinct only to find the spot on my hip empty.

My jaw snaps shut. Only two things could have happened to my favorite weapon. It could have fallen during my scuffle with the beast. Though that’s unlikely. I made that sheath myself. Or—he took it before he tossed me out.

Yeah, bet that’s the case. He wanted to make sure I had nothing I loved when I got back here.

Ice runs through my veins and my ribs constrict around that word.

Love?

Huffing, I reach for the knife currently twisted in my hair. My bun falls apart, but at least I now have a weapon in my grip as I curl the corner toward the blooming place of the Isles Kiss.

“What the fuck?”

Bloodred, soul-eating flowers with thorns as black as night still sprout from the ground. But what was once a small, rectangular patch pushed against the edge of stone is now a massive fucking jungle.

The thorns are no longer clustered and avoidable.

No, now they’re long and thick, braided from ceiling to floor in dark, twisting cords, weaving themselves into columns that stretch up the cavern walls like ribs.

Their black tips gleam sharp and wet, the red petals nestled between them deeper than I remember, almost black at their centers, curling inward as though they are guarding something precious.

Or something dangerous.

My eyes narrow and I step closer.

“The forbidden gems.” My hand moves forward of its own accord. A vine lashes forward, striking me as quick as a serpent, the sting ten times worse.

I curse, yanking my hand back, looking down to inspect the damage. But there is none.

I’m healing.

On the island.