Page 45 of Monster's Pretty Bride

They’ve been waiting for her. For me.

A sudden rustling outside sends me moving before I think. I shove Eryss back against the wall, shielding her with my body, one hand braced beside her head, the other already reaching for a weapon that isn’t there.

She gasps, startled by the sudden movement. “What the hell are you doing?”

I bare my teeth. “You led us straight into a trap, little bride.”

Her glare sharpens. “I didn’t lead us anywhere. You were the one who?—”

A sound cuts through her words.

A voice. A whisper.

Low. Chanting.

Magic.

Every muscle in my body tightens violently.

The Purna outside is casting something, their power seeping through the cracks in the walls, the ground itself shifting with unnatural energy.

Fuck.

I move before I can think.

I grab Eryss’s wrist, dragging her away from the door. “We’re leaving.”

She yanks back. “Are you serious? We don’t even know who?—”

“I don’t care.” My voice is rough, edged with the sharp undercurrent of a warning. “Whoever they are, they aren’t here to help.”

She hesitates, her gaze flicking toward the notebook still clutched in her hand.

She’s thinking too hard.

Trying to rationalize something that doesn’t need logic.

My grip on her wrist tightns, akin to shackles. “Move, Eryss.”

The front door bursts open.

The storm outside sends a rush of wind slamming through the room, scattering ash from the dead fire, the smell of damp earth and something older, heavier, twisting in the air.

A figure steps inside, hooded, draped in shadows.

I feel it immediately.

Power. Thick. Ancient. Twisting through the room like a second heartbeat.

They lift their head, and I see the flash of golden markings along their skin.

A Purna mage.

Eryss stiffens beside me.

The figure steps forward, the wooden floor creaking beneath their weight. They are calm. Too calm. Their lips curl slightly, like they already know something we don’t.

Their voice is soft, smooth. Too smooth.

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