Page 81 of Fated to Monsters

Nothing felt as good as seeing her across that field, and the second I wrapped my arms around her, I knew I never wanted to lose her again. Bo experienced it, too, and even though he denies his feelings for her every chance he gets, I’m certain he was just as concerned about her as I was when she was locked away.

My sights adjust to another person that walks out of the building ahead. A woman, middle-aged, with clothing unlike anything other women wear. It's too formal, too rigid, and too uncomfortable looking. Something in my chest tugs, and my stomach turns over.

“That fucking bitch,” Wren whispers but doesn’t move toward her. She might be hot-headed, but she’s rational, and marching herself up there right now would not be the safest thing to do. Wren wants to make sure she succeeds in her mission, not fail before she even gets started.

“I’d love to…” Pippa doesn’t continue her sentence but leaves the rest to our imagination. There’s no denying what it is she’d like to have said.

Gary growls low and his furry shoulder rubs against me.

I glance down at him, the strange urge to pat his fluffy head is strong. But I deny my urge in fear that he'll bite my entire arm off. I might be a phoenix who can be reborn in death, but I'm not sold on my limbs regenerating. If I'm not mistaken, my body does no supernatural healing aside from bringing me back from the dead. Which explains the scars on my back that are only visible to me when I look in the mirror. I would have never known they existed had Wes and Bo not seen them. They don't hurt, at least, they didn't, not until recently. Lately, though, they've been aching like they're fresh. It makes no sense at all.

But as I stare through the haze at the woman in the distance, something inside me tugs at the seams.

“Leave no survivors,” she orders the soldiers around her. “And then clear out.”

Her voice floats back to me, smacking me dead in the chest.

I avert my gaze and try to recall a memory that’s been hidden from me.

It's right there, but just out of reach. That outfit. That voice. That cruel demeanor.

“What’s she doing?” Pippa whispers, drawing my attention to the unfamiliar yet familiar woman.

“Knowing Parla…something nefarious.” Wren sighs and waits for the scene to unfold.

I can only imagine how hard it is for her to not run out there and drive a knife straight through her heart. Or maybe she would snap her neck in one swift movement. Regardless, Wren came here to see Parla's death through, and being this close to her without acting on it is a difficulty that is not lost on me. I press my palm against her shoulder in an attempt to reassure her that I understand and that I am here for her.

And when the time is right, I will stand by her side to see this through.

A portal appears in front of Parla, green and blue with hints of shimmering orange.

In my state of distraction, I don’t notice the figure that towers over me from behind, the one that latches its grimy hand over my mouth and yanks me a few feet away. I gasp but it’s no use, the sound is muffled under the clutch of this thing holding me hostage.

Wren spins on her heel and crouches down, her mesmerizing eyes going wide. She’s frozen in place, like her mind is trying to run possible scenarios through her head and decide which of them has the best outcome.

I try to shake my head, to tell her not to act, but I can barely move.

I’m brought back to when the wendigo had taken me from her once before. Sheer panic coursed through me at the idea of never seeing her again. I’m not sure who was more surprised upon my rising from those ashes, me or my loved ones. Either way, I was thankful that I wasn’t a complete anomaly of this world. That finally, I fit in. Even if my only magical trait is dying.

I recall the rancid smell of his grasp, the one matching that of the thing holding onto me now.

It groans, the sound matching that of the wendigo from once before.

It isn’t just some random creature who has found me, it’s the wendigo.

“Do you want to be caught?” Wren whisper-shouts at him and throws her thumb toward Parla and her cronies. “Because if she doesn’t kill you today, it will be tomorrow. Or the next day. You’re never going to make it out of here alive. Not without me.” Her gaze flashes to mine but darts back to the wendigo.

She’s attempting to appeal to his desire to survive. Instead of threatening him, she’s telling him the truth.

“I always finish what I start,” the wendigo says, his voice deep and gravely.

I stare through the small gap in the brush at Parla. She glances around, and for a split second, I swear she's glaring in our direction. But instead of coming toward us, she steps into the magical thing and disappears. Her men follow her through, and within a few short moments, they're all gone.

“This one doesn’t want to stay dead.” He tightens his hold and moves back a few inches, dragging me farther away from my love.

Pippa remains with her hands sort of in the air in front of her, almost like she’s waiting for Wren to make a move. Gary has taken his spot next to Pippa.

If he would just hurry up and kill me, Wren could attack him and end his life. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about me gettinghurtin the crossfire. I can heal myself from death, but not from being injured. That much she’s aware of, too. If I had a knife on me, I would drive it straight into my heart. With his hand over my mouth and his suffocating grasp, I can’t say the word to bring me to Arthlia, and I can’t reach for the button, either. Both fail safes fail epically. Who could have prepared us for me losing my ability to speak and move all at the same time?

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