Page 11 of Fated to Monsters

4

Wes

Iwait in the bathroom for Wren while she rinses off in the shower.

When she’s finished, I stand there, my arms outstretched with another clean and soft towel to wrap her up in it.

“You sure are a gentleman, you know that?” She grins up at me from her spot tucked close to my chest.

“I’ve been waiting my whole life for this. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

And that doesn’t just apply to me, it goes for my hound, too.

He’s constantly foaming at the mouth to break free and murder anyone who dares to look at her cross. Her happiness is his main priority, and I couldn’t be any more relieved that we’re at least on the same page about that.

“You know it’s the same for me, too, right?” Wren stares into my eyes, her gaze intense.

I swallow and tuck her damp hair behind her ear. “Is it?”

“Yes.”

I told you,my hound declares.

“Let’s get you to bed.” I kiss her forehead and with my arm still wrapped around her shoulder, I lead her toward the door.

Only once we’re in the bedroom, her body goes rigid upon the absence of Bo.

“Bo’s a night owl, he’s probably just exploring the property.”

“I thought you couldn’t lie.”

“I’m not lying. Bo is weird. Nothing he does makes sense.”

Wren hugs her body tightly.

“How about some clean clothes?” I guide her over to the side of the bed. “Give me a second.”

Helplessness cascades through me at not being able to mend what is happening between her and Bo. I never thought that I would accept my mate being with another but I also never thought I would fall for a hunter. My hound doesn’t prefer it, but her happiness supersedes his. Nor could I have anticipated being here, having escaped Prania. I’ve always dreamt of Arthlia and what it might be like to flee the confines of our homeland. Freedom, autonomy, safety. It was a pipe dream, and now it’s real.

In the past, when I thought about my future, there was always this void. This emptiness I thought I would never be able to fill. I imagined a life outside of Prania, but I was alone—or alone with Bo and Dash.

No matter the scenario…I was alone.

It wasn’t until she came to kill me that I realized she was what I was missing all along. My soul had locked onto her with a force unlike anything I had ever known. I suppressed it. I tried to hide it. I attempted to resist every bit of the pull she had on me. But there was no denying what was already there. Fate had decided it long ago. And I have never been more grateful for anything in my entire life.

I wasn’t lying when I said I would do anything for her. I would kill for her. I would die for her. And when Parla tried to tear us apart, I chose to live for her.

I fumble through the clothes in the closet and locate the smallest T-shirt I can find. I settle on a pair of sweatpants in one of the drawers and grab something for myself, too. Luckily, whoever lived here in the past left their belongings behind. Only the pit in my gut tells me they haven't abandoned this place completely. And with Tremont being as cryptic as he is, there's no telling what’s in store for us. Tomorrow we will get answers and figure out how to move on in this world. How to start over.

I exit the large closet to find Wren lying along the edge of the bed with the towel still clung around her delicate body, and her eyes closed. My chest flutters at the sight of her, and a smile creeps its way across my face. It’s amazing how such an angelic creature can be so fucking deadly. But maybe that’s what makes me love her even more, that she is not what she seems. She is fierce and strong and intelligent, but she is also kind, compassionate, and sensitive. She tries to act tough but she cares more than she lets on. I see it come through in the way she treats others. How she refused to leave people behind at Rockbridge. For a woman who was born in blood and violence, she still has a way of radiating such light.

With great caution, I slide the legs of the pants over her dainty feet and up her legs, tying the string around her waist tight enough so they won’t fall completely off.

She stirs, her eyes fluttering open to meet mine. “I fell asleep.”

“Here,” I tell her while she’s awake. “Put this on.” I help her up, tug the shirt over her head, and pop her arms through each hole. “There. That’s better.”

Wren grins with her eyes closed and yawns. “I’m tired.”

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