Page 57 of Fated to Monsters

“You’re familiar?” I ask him, my interest getting the best of me.

“May I?” He approaches and points to the book.

“By all means, it’s kind of yours anyway.” I scoot it toward him.

He flips over the thick cover, exposing a pale beige page with faded, unreadable text. And not because of the condition, but because it’s in another language.

“I’ve never had it translated.” Walker fingers through a few pages.

Of course, I would be led to the one book in the room that no one can read. How is that supposed to help answer any of my questions? Including why this book is even of any relevance to me.

“Was there something specific you were after?” He side-eyes me while continuing to move through some of the pages.

I shrug. “I don’t know.” Glancing at Willow, I silently pray for her to have some input.

Like she could read my mind, she opens her mouth to speak. "Remember when I was struggling at the beginning of my magical journey?"

Walker gives her his attention.

“I came down here, and I was guided toward various texts. I believe it was the Angels leading me toward what I needed to find. That’s how I learned more about the Oliver curse, the Harlow curse, the hell dimensions.” Willow dips her head to the book none of us can read. “This is where Wren was led. There must be something in there for her.”

Walker takes a breath in and runs his hand through his dark but speckled grey hair. "I see." He rubs his chin. "I can see about having it translated, but it may take some time."

Time. Something I both do and do not have.

I am no longer running for my life, but how can I remain here when I know the truth about what's happening in my homeland? There is no luxury of time regarding Parla and her mission to kill every demon she can get her manicured hands on.

“I would very much appreciate that,” I tell him. Because even if it takes forever, it’s something he’s willing to do. “How can I repay you?”

He shakes his head. “Not necessary. I’m happy to help.”

“Speaking of help,” Willow says. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Shoot.” Walker closes the book and focuses on her.

“Are you familiar with a realm called Prania?”

Walker blinks stiffly. “Why?”

“That’s where Wren is from. And Sydney can’t find any literature on it. He’s scoured the archives, and he came up empty. We figured it’s worth a shot to see if you know anything about it.”

I chew at the inside of my lip in anticipation of what could be another dead-end.

“That’s impossible.” Walker’s serious gaze rakes over me.

“Do you know something?” Willow questions him.

“I know enough to tell you who you need to talk to.” He hesitates before saying, “But you’re not going to like it.”

“Why?” Willow and I say at the same time.

“Because Prania is a demon realm.” Walker stares at Willow as if that should be enough.

“What does that have to do with anything?” I shift my gaze between them, desperate to read something on their faces that would give me more insight.

Willow’s body goes tense. “No.”

“Yes,” Walker answers her.

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