Page 18 of Monster's Pretty Bride

One second I am still, the next, I am on her, slamming her against the stone wall, my claws curling around her throat. Not tight enough to harm. Not tight enough to break.

Just enough to remind her what she stands against.

Her breath shudders out, but she does not struggle.

Instead, her eyes burn into mine, unafraid.

I should squeeze. I should crush.

But I don’t.

My grip shifts, dragging lower, along the side of her throat, her collarbone, pressing against the pulse thrumming beneath her skin.

“You think you understand me,” I murmur, voice rough with something I refuse to name. “But you don’t.”

Her fingers twitch at her sides. “And you think you understand me?”

A low, dangerous chuckle rumbles through my chest. “I understand enough.”

Her lips part, a slow inhale dragging between us. The smell of her fills my lungs, something wild beneath the surface, something restrained only because she forces it to be.

I lean in, my mouth a breath away from her ear.

“You hesitate, little bride,” I whisper. “And that will be your undoing.”

I release her.

Eryss remains pressed against the wall, but she does not look away.

Does not run.

I exhale, stepping back, my body still coiled with restless energy. “Go,” I command. “Before I decide whether you’re worth keeping alive.”

A muscle ticks in her jaw, but she listens.

She turns, striding toward the doors, but just before she crosses the threshold, she pauses.

Without looking back, she murmurs, “You hesitate too.”

I watch the empty space where she stood, my chest still tight, my skin still thrumming where her pulse had raced beneath my fingertips.

She is right. And that is the problem.

9

ERYSS

The world rips apart before I can grasp what’s happening.

I’m yanked from the bed, limbs tangled in the sheets, my skull cracking against the hard stone as rough hands seize me. The force of it steals my breath, a strangled sound escaping my lips as I thrash.

Clawed fingers dig into my arms, hauling me upright.

Disoriented. Disarmed.

My body rebels, muscles screaming as I twist, kicking out blindly. My foot connects with something solid, a grunt of irritation, not pain, answers me. A second set of hands clamps around my waist, pinning my arms behind my back as I’m dragged toward the open door.

A growl spills from my throat. "Let go of me, you bastards!"

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