Page 128 of Their Pretty Little Monster

He glances at me, then the bed. “Might just work if the other two bunk on the couch.”

I laugh. “That’s not going to happen. We both know it.”

He’s still grinning, that adorable spark in his eyes.

“If any of us get any sleep tonight,” I murmur. “What if we don’t pass this quest?”

Quicker than I can take my next breath, he pulls me into his arms.

“Your father has always been a cruel tyrant, and he’s not going to give in, but nothing comes easy. Anyway, fuck him because you’re with the three of us! And nothing is too much for us to face.”

His words, meant to comfort, only tighten the knot of anxiety in my stomach. I stare up at him, my heart pounding against my rib cage.

“I just wish I wasn’t related to him… I feel guilty for all the shit he’s causing everyone.”

Killian’s hand is warm on my back, his lips pressing a soft kiss to my brow.

“Being blood-related doesn’t make him family. He just happens to share your bloodline, and that’s where it ends. He doesn’t deserve your guilt. He wears all the blame for his atrocities.”

His fingers gently tilt my chin up, making me meet his intense blue gaze. The closeness of his body, the manly, seductive scent that has me leaning against him, distracts me but not enough to forget the ache deep in my chest.

“I have no idea how my mother even ended up with him. She told me nothing about him, and now I want to ask her so many questions.” Thinking about her makes me wonder if she took her medicine when she woke up. Or was she too worried after reading my note?

He leans in, our noses brushing as he whispers, “Some things are better left unknown, Sage. All you need to know is that he’s a bastard, and maybe your mother didn’t have a choice.”

The possibility coils tightly in my gut, nausea fluttering against the sudden rush of bile. It’s a thought I’ve considered before, but I let it go; it’s too painful, too brutal, if real.

“I miss her,” I whisper, the admission squeezing painfully tight around my heart. “I hope she hasn’t woken up too scared with me not being there.”

“It would be later in the day in Nightingale Village. A full day hasn’t passed yet. You need to stay focused on the here and now. If we don’t survive, she’ll never see you again,” he murmurs, trying to soothe me, yet it’s leaving me more jittery.

I think about the hastily scribbled note I left my mother, wishing I had known then what I know now. I would have told her not to worry, that I’m safe with Viscount Killian. That night in the village feels like a lifetime ago—a different world, a different me.

Suddenly, Killian’s lips are on mine, his kiss deep and consuming. It steals away my thoughts, my worries. I lean into him, letting the world fade, my toes curling in my boots. His hand slides around my waist, pulling me closer. I clutch his shirt, needing this connection, this moment of escape from the chaos around us.

Just as the intensity of our kiss deepens, a loud “Fuck!” rings out from the other room. We break apart, staring at each other with wide eyes. What the hell now?

Killian takes my hand, leading me quickly into the main living area. Wolfe has the curtains pulled back, and bright light floods the room, casting everything in golden and pink hues from the sun and the pinkish sky.

Wolfe and Nyko are both staring out the floor-to-ceiling window that takes up most of the wall. The sight beyond the glass steals my breath—it’s a panoramic view of the kingdom. For a moment, the beauty of it grips my heart, squeezing tight with a promise of what could have been.

I step closer to the window, unable to tear my eyes away from the view. There’s a river winding through the city down below, stone buildings with multiple floors, arched openings, and stone footpaths crisscrossing in every direction. Greenery and gardens add life and color to the place, and in the distance, grand mountains rise majestically, framing the scene.

To my right, the most beautiful castle I’ve ever seen stands over a long arched stone bridge crossing the river. Waterfalls cascade from its base, and spiked towers and crenelations give it a fairy tale–like appearance. Trees grow amid the building, adding to its enchanting look.

I press my forehead against the glass, absorbing every detail from the bustling markets below to the distant, dark woods that border the kingdom.

“Wow!” Stone, cliff-topped walls encircle the kingdom.

To the left, the landscape stretches into rugged mountains, their peaks lost in the clouds. But it’s the castle that steals the show, drawing my attention again—a place so beautiful, yet I remind myself it’s in the grip of my father’s rule.

Below, Shadowfen are hurrying about, not stopping to chat or enjoy the view. It’s as if there’s an unspoken deadline to everything they do, or maybe they’re all just trying to stay out of trouble. Guards are everywhere, their eyes sharp on everyone. Talk about oppressive.

“Look at them,” Killian grumbles, pointing to the streets below, where the pace of life seems frantic. “No one’s enjoying this paradise. It’s all just them being frantic. That’s not living.”

“How can something so beautiful feel so wrong?” I murmur, more to myself than to anyone else.

“That’s how tyrants work, Sage,” Wolfe says softly. “They build beautiful things to hide the rot inside.”

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