Page 1 of Enchanting Her Monsters
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INTERRUPTED
JADE
After being chased into the forest surrounding Amira’s home, I’m covered in dirt, marked with scratches from branches and werewolf claws.
Through his dangerous teeth, Arran pulls me closer. “You are mine. My mate.”
I crave for Arran to claim me with his bite. “Yes, make me yours.”
There’s no hesitation on his part. His razor-sharp canines pierce the juncture of my neck and shoulder.
The threads of a mating bond immediately snap into place, linking our souls.
Wholly. Completely. We are one.
The feeling is like nothing I’ve experienced. It’s as though I’ve discovered a lost piece of myself I didn’t know was missing—like I’ve come home.
Then my body glows with sigils and strange writing, just as Maxum described before. The unidentifiable magical symbols over my body dissolve like they’re evaporating into the ether. Have they vanished for good? Or is this how they always appear and disappear?
“Oh, Jade…”a woman says in my mind. She sounds completely mortified and distraught.“What have you done?”
I shake my head to clear my confusion. “Abuela?” I call out to the dark woods.
“You made the same mistake I made.”
Mistake? What mistake did my grandmother make?
After hearing my grandmother’s disembodied voice, I instinctively push the spirit away. I don’t want to hear more. Not now.
Arran’s grip around my waist tightens, if that’s possible, and he growls at the surrounding darkness.
Since it’s only a spirit who spoke to me, I know he doesn’t understand what the threat might be. I’m sure he’s feeling over-protective and vulnerable because we just sealed our mate bond. He’s still locked inside me, so if we were attacked, this could get awkward fast.
Given my current circumstances, I don’t want a conversation with my dearly departed grandmother right now. Although her ominous words about making the same mistake she did echoes in my head.
Did she mate a wolf shifter? Is my grandfather a supe?
Oh, my goddess. My grandma is watching me get busy with my mate…
That’s it. I’m calling this experience a new level of embarrassment for me. If I didn’t finally have someone—correction,someones—to live for, then I might just die from mortification. As it is, I must live and endure this. My guys had better appreciate this gesture.
I’m not embarrassed by sex. I mean, I write this stuff for a living.
Well, the steamy romance part, not the ‘grandma watching them bump uglies with a legit monster with special equipment’ part.
Yeah. I’m burning with flushed skin in more ways than one.
Arran just rocked my body, then my soul. I feel our spirits intertwining. It’s the magical equivalent of a marriage, but a heck of a lot more permanent.
It hits me again. We are mated.
I was so caught up in the moment that I begged him for his bite.
When I check in with my emotions, I don’t regret it. I only regret my grandmother’s ghost for an audience. Now, if Maxim, Flint, or both of them, were here watching, that would be hot.
Arran’s berserker gives the darkness another snarl for good measure before he licks the fresh wound on my neck, tending to his mating bite. I feel it sealing closed as he administers the aftercare.
