Page 100 of Fated to Monsters

His last statement feels more like a goodbye than anything else, and it makes me question whether I should have offered my approval.

But before I can say anything, four hunters attack, and I'm forced to react. I duck and avoid one man's punch, spinning and kicking at the same time, knocking another of the men down. I shove the sword through the chest of the tallest man, quickly withdrawing it and slamming the brunt edge of the handle into the other's face. Blood splatters and adds to the already gory atmosphere.

I catch Wren out of the corner of my eye, her body trembling under Tremont’s authority. He shudders even more as a current of dark magic floats out of her and into him. Is he absorbing the demonic magic? Should I stop him from continuing whatever it is he’s doing? Or should I risk the life of my mate in hopes that he’s actually trying to help?

Wren’s eyes pop open and she glows in a way that I’ve never quite experienced from her before. She’s still injured and exhausted but there’s something different about her.

“Now,” Tremont calls out to her. “Try again.”

Willow and Wren lock hands while Tremont still keeps hold of Wren.

A crackle of white light blasts out from the womens’ embrace that’s surely enough to temporarily blind anyone who might be looking their way.

Tremont holds his other hand toward the sky, the power leaving the girls and flowing out of him. His body stiffens and for the longest moment, a sharp and glaring brightness pours into the grim area.

The light increases its luster until all that can be seen is white.

I blink through the illumination as it fades and watch the man who was holding onto Wren collapse onto the ground.

Every single hunter on the battlefield stops their advances, some of their arms hovering in the air between them and their target.

“Stop,” I scream at everyone. “Stop fighting.”

For the first time in the history of my life in Prania, the hunters and demons exist in a space without immediately killing one another. Every person, hunter and demon alike, seems dazed and confused, but none of them continue with their previous attempt at murdering one another.

“What are you waiting for?” a voice calls out, this one feminine and familiar.

I locate the source a distance away, unmoving hunters circled around her.

“Kill them,” Parla commands.

I skim my attention across the many people that remain, waiting and wondering which one is going to make the first move. Have Wren and Willow really broken the compulsion or is this some fleeting moment before we lose it all?

Dash comes into my line of sight, his body inching toward the woman we came here to kill.

“Dash,” Wren mumbles, her own vision locking onto him.

But when she releases Willow's hand and takes a step forward, she doesn't make it any farther. Her body collapses onto the ground next to Tremont's.

I’m at her side in a flash, and Bo joins me as we turn her lifeless body over. Blood coats her face, and I can’t quite determine if it belongs to her or someone else. My hand presses softly against the wound on her stomach and tears uncontrollably well in my eyes.

“Wren,” I whisper.

Bo clenches his jaw and breathes in deeply. “She’s still alive. I can hear her pulse. It’s faint, but she’s still in there.” He meets my gaze. “It’s fading fast.”

I shove the person I care most about in this world into another man’s arms. “Take her back. I’ll be right behind you.” As much as it kills me to leave her, Bo is better suited for the job. With the mark still remaining on her neck, it has to be him that returns her to Arthlia, otherwise, there’s no telling the amount of danger she would face when the beacon activates, and she isn’t able to protect herself.

What kind of mate would I be if I force her to return without following through with why she came here? I must finish her mission and return Dash to her unharmed. With him stepping closer and closer to Parla, I grow unsure of how much time he has left.

Latching onto Willow’s wrist, I steady her attention on me. “Save her, please. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just don’t let her die.”

Willow nods stiffly and lowers herself to the ground next to Wren. She exchanges a glance with Bo, and a moment later, the three of them disappear; my heart and soul leaves with them. Rage, unlike anything I’ve felt in the past, builds within me. Greater than when Mother and Jade were taken from me. More than when I found out Mother was killed. More than the time I spent in Rockbridge knowing that they were torturing my mate.

No, this is different. This feels final. Absolute. There’s an undiluted fury at being this close to the finish line and coming up short.

But I refuse to allow Wren to succumb without avenging her.

My nostrils flare and that familiar sense of warmth courses through me. I press both hands around the device still clamped around my neck. I exhale and grip it tighter, not caring at all about how it digs into my flesh as I tug each side away from the other. The metal cracks under my pressure until finally, I snap the thing clean off and toss it onto the ground.

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