Page 65 of Monster's Pretty Bride

Now I have a traitor to hunt.

A purna I’m still not sure if I shouldprotect…ordestroy.

30

ERYSS

Iam going to kill him.

The heavy door slams shut, the deep clank of metal seals locking me in. Thearrogant, insufferable, domineering bastardlocked me in his chambers. Hisbedroom.I whirl, throwing my weight against the door, pounding my fists on the unyielding stone.

“Youson of a—LET ME OUT!”

My screams go unanswered. No footsteps. No growling threats. Not even a mocking retort from the guards who Iknoware stationed outside. I shove my shoulder against the door, testing the hinges. The powerful wards woven into the walls shimmer faintly in response, their presence pressing against my skin, as if the room itself is watching me.

I am trapped.

Again.

My breaths come hard, sharp. Rage coils through my gut, hot and unwieldy. He caged me once in his fortress, let his warriors throw me to the ground, let thembeatme just to test my mettle. Then he let me roam. He let mefightbeside him. And now, after everything, I’m back to being his prisoner.

I storm to the window, fingers gripping the iron lattice, testing its strength. Solid. Immovable. The way out is sealed, every shadow in this cursed room laced with his control.

That bastard. Thatoverbearing gargoyle bastard.

Time passes. I pace. I plot. I seethe.

When the door finally creaks open, I lunge before I can stop myself, ready to sink my nails into his throat, but it isn’t Naranus who steps through.

Thryx stands there, his usually smug face drawn tight, his arm supporting a massive, staggering form.

Naranus.

I freeze.

He lookswrecked.

Blood, fresh and dark, seeps from his shoulder, staining the leather of his armor, his normally imposing stance off-balance. His wings hang limp, tattered from battle, his jaw clenched against what must be searing pain.

Thryx exhales hard. “He needs a healer. The stronghold’s is injured.” His sharp gaze lands on me. “You will help.”

The demand ignites my fury all over again. “You want me tohelpthe gargoyle who just locked me up like some fragile little?—”

“Eryss, human,” Thryx snaps, his voice cutting through my rage like a blade. “He fought Drenir.”

Something in my chest tightens.

Naranus shifts, head tilted back against the wall, as if staying upright is a struggle. His molten eyes find mine, and despite his state, bleeding, wounded, half-broken, hesmirks.

“Stilltrapped, purna?” His voice is a gravel-dipped rasp, deep and rough. “Pacing like a caged beast?”

I want to slap him. I want toshakehim for getting himself into this state. Instead, I grind my teeth and jerk my gaze to Thryx.

“What do you need?”

Thryx hands me a satchel filled with healing herbs and poultices. “Apply the paste to his wounds. Stop the bleeding. That’sall.” His look sharpens. “Unless you’d rather let himdie.”

I glare at him. “Don’ttemptme.”

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