Page 13 of Fated to Monsters

“Prania.”

“Prania?”

“Yes. There is a terrible war and a great injustice to his kind.”

“His kind?” Sydney steps to the left to avoid Tremont’s obstruction. “What are you?”

I clear my throat. “I’m a hellhound.”

Sydney’s brow rises. “You’re a man.”

Summoning my powers, I let them rise to the surface, only showing a fraction of my true form. The flames flicker along my skin and comfort me in a way that the luxurious bed of his never could.

“And who’s behind you?” Sydney points past me.

Wren shoves her way through the door. “I’m Wren. Wren Oliver.”

Sydney’s mouth falls open slightly and his gaze trains itself onto Tremont. “What are you trying to pull here?”

“Nothing, I promise you. Get a truth stone, do whatever you need to do, but trust this, she is who she says she is.” Tremont moves out of the way to give Sydney a better view down the hallway.

I shift to put myself in front of Wren. “She’s not on show here.”

“What is she?” Sydney tilts his head around to look at Wren.

Wren does her best attempt to shove me out of the way. “I’m right here, you don’t have to talk about me like I’m not in the room.”

Sydney runs his hand through his hair again, a nervous habit. “You’re right. Sorry. I don’t mean to be rude, this is just all very…unexpected.” He focuses on Tremont. “Have you not told them about our past?”

Tremont shakes his head. “Not entirely.”

“Perhaps they would no longer put their lives in your hands if they knew the truth.”

“My life is in my hands, and no one else’s,” Wren says to Sydney. “We only met him briefly before fleeing our realm. Whatever past you two have together has nothing to do with us.”

“And yet you’re traveling with him.”

“Out of necessity.” Wren steps closer and I clench my hand into a fist to shield my desire to force myself in front of her again.

“You come here bearing the name Oliver, so very conveniently.” Sydney crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t buy it.”

“Why would I lie about that?” Wren matches his movement and folds her arms, too. “Does that name mean something?”

Sydney laughs abruptly. “Really?” He points to Tremont. “This must be hilarious to you, isn’t it?”

“Care to explain the punchline?” Wren asks him.

“You show up, after all these years, out of the fucking blue, claiming you want peace, usingthis houseto find refuge, and with a girl bearing Willow’s last name.”

“Who’s Willow?” Wren speaks the question that was on my mind, too.

“Really? You’re telling me you have never heard the name Willow Oliver, that Tremont doesn’t have you going along with whatever game he’s playing? I find this way too convenient to have a shred of truth in it.”

I shove around Wren and put myself back into his line of sight. “I’ve had enough of you accusing her of being a liar. Get your little truth rock and do what you must, but if you so much as hint at one more bad thing toward her…”

“Ah.” Sydney grins. “The violent welcome party I expected.” He looks me up and down. “Why don’t you try?”

He saw the flames licking my skin, and yet he's standing there completely unfazed by what I could possibly do to him. He wields no weapons and hasn't even hinted at having magic of his own. He's unmatched and unbothered, meaning only one thing, I'm underestimating him entirely.

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