Page 121 of Their Pretty Little Monster

Except, now that she’s seen it, met us, she won’t leave. I know that much. She’s feisty, determined, and so fucking loving; it’s a blessing to have someone like her in our lives.

Chapter

Thirty-Two

SAGE

“We’re here,” Killian whispers, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down my spine.

We’re in an open, oval-shaped vessel—more like a boat from back on Earth but sleek, black, and motor-powered. The captain is in a small cabin controlling the vessel, while the rest of us sit in a circular seating arrangement at the back. It should be comfortable, but my knees are bouncing uncontrollably, refreshing with the air rushing through my hair.

I’m too busy staring at the enormous island we’re approaching to notice much else. My mouth might be hanging open. We’re passing mountainous sheer cliffs that run along the pebbly beach like a stone wall, a fortress around the kingdom. The tops of the cliffs are jagged, and what I hate most about them is how much they resemble my vision of Howler on fire.

Nyko’s got his hand on my knee to stop it from jumping up and down, offering me a crooked smile, a gesture that has me softening against him.

“My heart’s going so fast,” I whisper. “Maybe I should have practiced my magic or something?”

Wolfe, who’s on Killian’s side, leans in, his hand reaching for mine.

“That’s the thing… each of our abilities is so unique that even the way they come to us is special. It’s something that can’t be taught. But that’s why you have us and them.” He raises his chin to the ten guards at the front of the boat, hunkered down—monstrous beasts, fierce and looking like they could tear you in half with their bare hands. Animalistic, hairy, clawed, and with horns. Wolfe told me a large group of warriors were also in the water, approaching the kingdom, hidden out of sight. Should things go terrible on our arrival, we’ll have backup.

“I’m really nervous,” I admit.

“We all are,” Killian replies.

Wolfe squeezes my hand, and Nyko has his arm around my back.

As we come around a curve on the land, we approach a break in the endless cliff wall with a grand entrance carved out of stone. An oversized arched entryway is high up on the stone wall, filled with a waterfall that crashes down into the ocean. Above it stands a stone statue of an oversized crown, glinting with jewels and two swords crossing through it. Behind it is another arch with more water spraying down behind it.

On the left-hand side, there’s a curved set of stairs made of stone that leads to a doorway. Two guards stand above it on a platform, lanky things with six thin legs that remind me too much of bugs but a thousand times larger and more terrifying. There’s greenery growing around the entrance.

I swallow hard.

Suddenly, I’m feeling less confident about this mission. Even dressed in pants with hidden pockets for blades, a tight shirt, and leather straps on my arms hiding tiny blades, I still worry.

“I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” I whisper.

“We’re here now… no turning back.” Nyko rubs my back. “Just remember that dream and what’s at risk.”

I glance at him, the strength behind his gaze grounding me. He’s right. Gone is the time to be afraid. I’m no longer the girl I was back in Nightingale Village.

“You’re right,” I say, more to convince myself than anyone else.

We dock at the wooden pier and disembark. The closer we get to the entrance, the heavier I breathe. Pebbles crunch underfoot, and there are no enemy guards rushing at us, only the two standing tall over us, studying our every movement.

Killian steps beside me, his presence a steadying force. “Just breathe.”

I nod, trying to follow his advice, but my mind keeps drifting back to the vision. The screams, the flames, the devastation. I shake my head, attempting to dispel the images. Focus, I tell myself. Focus on the now.

Fear still lurks, waiting to pounce.

My three monsters stand tall, not showing a sign of being worried. The guards with us remain close, vigilant, and there’s comfort in having them.

We stop at the base of the stone steps, the sound of the waterfall splashing nearby. The guards above the doorway don’t move, their eyes studying our group. My heart pounds in my chest, but I force myself to stand tall.

One of the guards steps forward on the platform, his beady eyes locking on us with a chilling focus.

“King Bren has been expecting you. Approach the door,” he growls, the sound echoing off the stone.

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