Page 125 of Monsters in Love

Jaston shifted behind her. “I should join my men. We will snuff this rebellion and—”

The earth rumbled beneath the Chastry.

Trembles shook the entire building and the wooden pews rattled against the polished stone floor. The panes of colored glass shook within their iron frames, vibrating fast enough to almost sing.

Then a massive crack sounded.

Inhuman wails mingled with screams, and Isabelle knew the monsters had escaped. The doors of the Chastry slammed shut and Jaston stumbled back, taking Isabelle with him.

His grip on her arms slackened. “What the—”

She kicked out. Free from her heavy overskirts, she could move faster, and strike true. Her heel connected with the bishop’s chest. He stumbled back and the vial fell from his grasp.

It shattered on the stone floor, and dark blood sizzled against the white floor.

The bishop screamed with rage, and Jaston lurched for the broken pieces.

She wouldn’t get another chance. While they were both distracted, she ducked between the two men. Avoiding Jaston’s arms, she raced away from them and the sizzling blood to the entrance. She threw herself against the doors to the Chastry, but it was as if they’d been sealed from the outside.

Gods damn it.

“Belle!” Jaston’s bellow struck like a blow.

Movement flashed behind her, and a high-pitched squeal of terror escaped her. Oh, Gods. He and the Bishop were coming for her. Whatever else happened, she wouldn’t let the bishop lay those awful hands on her again. She had to get away. And if she couldn’t go out—there was only one option.

Up.

She gathered her underskirts and ran up the steps to the side of the door, the twisting stairs leading to the belfry.

The last time she’d gone up the tower, it had been toward refuge alongside her sister and the man she loved. This time it was a desperate race away from the true monsters in Windhaven.

Oh Thomas—

Talos.

I wish you were here with me.

She went up the stairs as fast as she could, the sharp turns making her dizzy and her underskirts trying to tangle at her ankles. Her lungs burned and her legs screamed, yet she somehow managed to stay ahead of the monsters. Gray stone and endless steps blurred, then orange light grew.

She rounded a bend to find a window carved into an alcove.

Catching herself on the wall, she lunged for the opening and pushed open the iron window. Struggling with her underskirts, she scrambled out onto a ledge high above the square.

Below, chaos raged across Windhaven. Guards in gleaming armor faced townspeople with torches and monsters swarmed the skies. Orange flame seared lines across her city, the path of fire forming the exact shapes she’d drawn in her map in Talos’ room, what felt like a lifetime ago.

They’d really done it. The tunnels had been set on fire.

Forcing her gaze beyond the square, beyond the flames, she searched the fields. Were those lights disappearing into the woods? She only caught a glimpse of movement, yet hope flared in her chest. Too bright to be embers, and all moving in the same direction.

You better be one of those lights, Emmi.

“Nowhere to run, Isabelle.”

She turned around in time to see Jaston step onto the ledge, his polished armor burning with the reflected flames. He flashed that cold, heartless smile at her, the one that made her skin crawl while other ladies swooned. “Give up,” he said. “Abandon this foolishness. And you’ll live. You’ll be my wife. We’ll take what’s left of Windhaven and make a new life in a new town.”

She’d rather throw herself off the belfry.

“I won’t make any life with you, Jaston,” she said.

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