Page 93 of Monster's Pretty Bride

The way she looks at me. The way she feels pressed against me in battle, against my lips when she kisses me like I’m the only thing anchoring her to this world.

The way she defies me, over and over, refusing to be my executioner even when everything in her life tells her she should be.

I grab her by the shoulders, shaking her once, forcing her to see me.

“Then what the hell do you want me to do?” I demand. “Wait here while I rot? Pretend I don’t feel myself breaking apart?” I lift my arm between us, let her see the cracks running through my skin, growing wider with every breath. “This isn’t something you can fight. This isn’t something you can fix.”

Her fingers curl into my tunic, clinging to me like I’m slipping from her grasp. “There has to be a way. There has to be?—”

“There’s not.”

Her breath shudders, and her fingers go still against me.

Catalina shifts beside us, watching. Always watching.

I turn toward her, my body seething with frustration, helplessness. “Say it, Catalina. Say what you’re thinking.”

Her expression is guarded. “I think you should listen to her.”

I snarl. “You think I want her to watch me die? You think I’ll let her suffer that? You think it’s my choice?”

Catalina’s gaze flicks between us, and I see the way something shifts in her eyes. Something calculating. Something understanding.

She flinches.

Not from me. Not from Eryss.

From something outside.

A warning hum of magic prickles against my skin.

Eryss stiffens. “What was that?”

Catalina curses under her breath. “Something’s coming. They’re here, and even the barrier can’t stop them”

Eryss whirls toward me, her panic immediate. “We’re not done talking about this.”

I grit my teeth.

The conversation isn’t finished. But the war is coming for us as it waits for no one.

42

ERYSS

The air thickens, the magic crackling through the sanctuary’s shield, as if the ancient barrier itself senses what’s coming.

A tremor runs through my body, the weight of my choices pressing down like a noose tightening around my throat. Naranus stands beside me, a wall of silent rage and exhaustion. Catalina lingers a step behind, her breaths shallow from the battle before.

The world shudders.

A great pressure slams against the sanctuary’s shield, sending sparks of resistance rippling through the air.

It breaks. We step out of the building, staring at the uninvited guests.

A tidal wave of power crashes over us, cold and wrong.

Figures step through the shattered magic, the cloaked forms of the Purna Elders.

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