The Point of No Return

by Devyn Sinclair

To my ninjas—you know who you are.

My long existence was forever cleaved into two. Before I’d experienced that scent, and after.

“She’s kidding.” “It’s true,” Meg confirmed. “But it’s also true that my love is violent. So don’t cross me.”

“You don’t have to justify it,” Meg said. “Everyone is a bit of a monster fucker at heart. Get your freak on and all that. Christine would sell her soul to fuck a monster. She even has dreams about them.”

I could think of worse things than being romanced.

Erik was tall, black hair shining like raven feathers under the lights of the hallway. The rolled-up sleeves of his shirt showed corded forearms that led to what looked like an incredibly toned body. Not exactly shocking. The crew of these shows had to move things well above their weight all the time, and regularly. I doubt they even needed to use the gym with the kind of workout they got backstage, both building and operating. Marius was blonde and had an easy smile that I could see charming himself out of any trouble that he could get into. If I didn’t know that he was French, I could have pegged him as a cowboy.

Even hidden under my hat, I could see a glimpse of glossy lips tipped up into a smile and a part of me that had long since died wanted.

“I don’t care who you are,” Erik said quietly. “I care if you say yes to dancing with me.”

Let go for once in your life, Christine. That was scarier than Meg realized. Letting go right now? That was risky, but fuck if I didn’t want to.

“Always asking why.” “But—” “Sometimes there is no why. Sometimes there is only want. And we want you.”

“I will share with them. I will not share you with the world.” Not an ounce of doubt in his voice. A certainty that was more than a moment. “Then I guess I’m a fallen star tonight.”

It all felt like starlight soaking through my brain. Maybe I was a fallen star tonight.

“And Paris,” he said it in the French way. “Is old. This city is older than your very young country. There are things here that are not meant to be understood. Look no further than the opera house for proof.”

“Is he?” “Alive,” Erik confirmed. I blinked. That wasn’t what I was going to ask, but that was good.

His grin was wicked, and I wanted to take back my question. Everything he was saying was true, and it was baring me in a way that felt like too much. Too vulnerable.

There was a reason that Alexandre had called her a star—that pull towards her resonated like one. A shining bright star that was helping us navigate. Straight toward everything we’d ever wanted.

You wouldn’t guess how alone you became when everyone knew who you were. Constantly surrounded by people and voices, but no one that actually cared about you.

I didn’t care if it made me an old woman. Getting into bed was the best.

Crap. She was right. The little devil on my shoulder was doing a little dance, sticking out her tongue and mooning me for not admitting it earlier.

“Anyway, I think you should do it. But I think you should make them beg a little more first. Let them come to you. Put them on their knees.”

Dancing was therapy.

“We’re not monsters. We are gargoyles though.” I stared at him. “Gargoyles.” “Yes,” Marius said. “Like the statue that just cracked? And almost killed me?” “Yes.” “Like the children’s TV show?” There was silence at that. “There’s a television show about Gargoyles?”

“Because we’re not men, Christine. We’re monsters. And monsters don’t fucking. Share.”

“Why you? Because we need you. We waited for you. Felt you the moment you stepped out of your car here. Knew that your voice lit us up like lightning. But I also knew the second you fell into my arms that you were mine.”

“We’re more beasts than men. And you know from your books that beasts don’t need time or space to know that something belongs to them. You’re ours.”

My stomach swooped, and I swallowed. The whisper I managed was barely audible. “I’m your mate?” The growls from all three of them rippled through me, causing my knees to give out. Their arms and claws and tails were the only thing keeping me upright. “That’s right,” Alex said, the transformation completing. Somehow he still moved as stone, slow and steady, lifting me and carrying me to the bed. “You’re our fucking mate.”

If I’d known that it would be like that? I definitely would have sold my soul to fuck a monster.

“You’re our mate,” Marius said. “You are perfect, no matter what percentage of pizza your body is at any given time.”

I would rather have a life with you, and follow you into the afterlife, than to be immortal alone.

“My kind of man.” “I’m about to be your kind of monster,”

“Turns out you were right about the fact that I’m a monster fucker.”

Amazing what a couple days of excellent sex could do for your mental health.

It wasn’t an easy thing to do that. For either party. To yield completely to baser, darker instincts.

“The terror that hits when there’s any possible danger to you,” Marius’s voice was measured and even. “The drive to protect you overrides everything. Every single thing. To the point where we don’t even want you to have to think about danger.”

We didn’t deserve her. There was no known reason for mates. A happenstance of energy and resonance. But having a mate was far more than that. There was an inevitability to it—a deep knowing that it wasn’t just chance.

No matter how deep the hole in my heart was at the moment, I had to face it alone.

“I always have your back. Even if you might live in France with your fucking monster mates.”

Pure power slammed into me. I was the lightning, every cell screaming. I was lit from within like a thousand fireflies lived inside me.

“How’s Greece?” I snorted. “Fabulous. I think we’ll stay here for a while. Being on the beach with nothing to do? Excellent life choice. You should try it.”