Page 99 of Fated to Monsters

“They’re mind controlled.” Wren steps toward Willow. “I was able to break the compulsion, but I killed the person on accident.”

Willow tucks her hair behind her ears and exhales. “Take my hand.” She holds her arm out between her and Wren. “I have an idea.”

Without hesitation, Wren plants her palm in Willow’s. “What do you need me to do?”

“Whatever it was that broke the compulsion.” Willow’s gaze trails up, lingering on the device around my neck, to meet mine. “Hold them off, okay?”

I nod and put my body between the two Oliver witches and the endless hunters, turning to keep one eye on them while I do everything I can to keep them from harm’s way. I snap another neck with ease, the guilt of these deaths piling up on top of each other. I shouldn’t care about ending their lives, but if they truly are under Parla’s spell, why do they deserve to die pointlessly? If only she would stop being a coward and face us herself.

My stomach lurches when I spot that familiar red hair across the battlefield. Stepping over the rubble of the building he was supposed to remain concealed in, Dash emerges into plain sight. I swallow and dart my attention to Wren, who remains attached to Willow, a powerful energy radiating off them. With her eyes pinched shut, she doesn’t see one of the men she loves walking right into the line of fire.

I want to tell her and run as fast as I can over the dead bodies that litter this land and shove him back to safety, but I can’t, not when doing so would put her in danger. I must wait it out and hope like hell that Dash has a damn good reason for going against Wren’s wishes.

His gaze momentarily locks onto mine and I shake my head, a warning that he shouldn’t be doing what he is. Dash remains steadfast as he cautiously, but foolishly, surfaces from the safety of that building. I’m grateful he’s alive, only I’m unsure how much longer that will last now that he is no longer concealed.

“It’s not working,” Wren tells Willow. “Something’s wrong.”

Tremont steps toward them. “You need an amplifier.”

Willow narrows her gaze at him. “That won’t work.”

Tremont nods. “Yes, it will.” But there’s something solemn written across his face I can’t quite make out. What could he be hiding? His betrayal? His next move? The reason he was drawn to us all along? The final moment when he shows us who he really is?

“It could kill you,” Willow adds.

“Wren,” Tremont says, ignoring what Willow just told him. “The demonic power you yield is getting in the way.”

“What?” I finish killing the man in my grasp and turn my head toward them. “You said she was…”

Tremont doesn’t indulge me yet remains focused on my mate. “You know what I’m talking about.”

Wren swallows and dips her head slightly in acknowledgment.

“What is he talking about?” Willow asks her.

But when the tears form in Wren’s eyes, I understand exactly what he means. I had worried that Wren was involved in stealing demon magic, but I hoped that she would never stoop that low and do such a dreadful thing.

Wren hasn’t just been killing every demon she was sent out to eliminate, she’s been stealing their essence and harnessing it within her so Parla could harvest it and grow in power. The same thing that had been happening to Willow’s family, was the very thing that she has been doing to demons. Is she aware of how wrong that is? How similar to what had been happening to her ancestral line? Did she know what she was doing or was she only another pawn in Parla's twisted game? There's no way she hadn't figured this out by now, and considering how hell-bent she was on returning here to eliminate Parla, I wouldn't be surprised if she thought killing her would somehow redeem the treachery that she has done.

But getting herself killed isn’t going to erase or make right any of her actions.

Wren’s lips part. “I…”

I step forward and interrupt her. “There’s no time,” I tell them. “Whatever it is, it can wait.”

Wren's wavering gaze meets mine and I've never wanted to pull her to my chest more than I do at this very moment. To reassure her that although what she did was wrong, that I understand—that I forgive her, that she shouldn't punish herself for the sins someone else manipulated her into doing. And perhaps, that's why she's gone easy on Tremont, because he was under someone else's influence when he stole the Oliver power. His crimes were not much different than hers, and with the years he spent in Rockbridge, he seemed to have learned that what he did was wrong.

“Allow me.” Tremont holds out his hand toward Wren. “Please.” His stare pleads with her and for the first time in a long while, I believe he means well. I’ve always been skeptical of him, but if my gut is right, he really does want to make amends.

“It’s okay,” I say. “If he hurts you, I’ll snap his neck.”

Wren reluctantly slides her hand into his. “What do I need to do?”

“Just let me in, I’ll do the rest.” Tremont flits his attention to Willow. “I know it doesn’t mean much to you, but I’m sorry. For lying to you, hurting you, everything I did that played a part in the suppression of the Oliver’s magical bloodline.” He shakes his head. “It was wrong. I see that now. I have for a while. I should have never done the things I did. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but you must know how sorry I am.”

Willow glares at him through her lashes. “I don’t forgive you.”

"That's fine. I'm not asking for your forgiveness." Tremont, with his greying hair and tired face, focuses on Wren. "It was a pleasure meeting you."

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