Page 74 of Fated to Monsters

“What’s wrong?” Wes mumbles, his presence growing near, too. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

“I…I…” Bo lowers me onto the mattress where Wes must have just risen from.

I tuck into myself and lie there, still and blissful.

Don't they see that their concern is misplaced? There is nothing wrong.

Wes leans in. “Wren, baby. Can you hear me?”

“Mmhm,” I mumble.

His voice grows quiet but more intense. “I’m going to fucking murder you.”

"I didn't mean to," Bo responds with a hint of concern unlike I've ever known from him.

“Stop arguing,” I manage to spit out. “I asked for it.”

“What’s going on?” Dash says sleepily.

“Be quiet,” Wes snaps.

I try to sit up but my body won’t seem to cooperate with any of my normal commands. Everything is somehow heavy and light, all at once, and no matter what I do, I can’t get anything to function properly. What I’d really like is to fall asleep—to drift off into the abyss and savor this decadent release from reality I’m consumed by.

Wes comes toward me, his lips hovering next to my face. He moves lower, mumbling something I cannot make out, and then comes closer again. “Come back to me.” He lets out a soft breath. “Give me your pain. I accept your suffering. Allow me to carry that burden.”

But what he doesn’t understand is I’m not in pain. And the suffering I’m experiencing isn’t physical. It’s something internal I can’t quite get my hands on. It’s discouragement mixed with helplessness at not knowing how to fix everything I've broken.

If I could end Parla, maybe I could make things right. But until then, how can I play pretend that anything is okay? People are dying and it’s my fault. I gave her too much power, and she ate up every bit of it.

Even with Bo’s euphoric venom coursing through me, I can’t ignore the truth of what’s really happening. That I must kill her if I stand a chance at ever moving forward in this life. No matter the distance between Prania and Arthlia, I cannot escape or forget what she’s doing.

And when I regain the strength to control my bodily functions, I open my eyes and declare the one thing I cannot get off my mind, “I must murder Parla.”

“You’re okay.” Wes tucks my hair behind my ear, his eyes glowing softly as he watches me intensely. “You’re going to be okay.”

“I have to kill her, Wes. There’s no other way.”

“Shh.” He’s soft and gentle despite his dominating exterior. “You should rest.”

I sit up in my attempt to convince him that I’m fine. “I’m not joking, Wes,” I say with a bit more conviction. I shift my focus to Bo, who remains like a statue, secured in place with a concern still lining his brow. “I’m going back, I have to go back.”

“To Prania?” Bo speaks, his voice strained.

“You’re not going back there,” Wes says.

But I don’t look at him, I keep my gaze on Bo, because he might be the only other one in this room that truly understands how fucking badly I hate Parla. Regardless of our differences, at least we have a common enemy.

“I’m with you, Birdie.” Bo takes a small step forward, almost like he’s testing the distance between us.

"This is not up for discussion tonight." Wes turns toward Bo. "You need to watch your mouth."

Bo crosses his arms over his chest, the one that I had been pressed against not too long ago. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I shouldn’t have to, Bo. You’re a fucking adult. But here I am, cleaning up yet another one of your messes. You’re a child and you must be stopped.” Wes stands from the bed and positions himself between me and Bo.

“Guys, come on.” Dash yawns and pushes himself onto his butt. “Is this really necessary?”

“Yes,” Wes and Bo mouth off at the same time.

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