To Marry A Monster (by Brey Mitchell) novel Chapter 241

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Chapter 241

Chapter 241

Celeste’s POV

Celeste woke like she had been dragged out of a pit.

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Every part of her hurt. Her shoulder throbbed first, then her ribs, then the inside of her head, where dizziness sat, refusing to lift no matter how hard she blinked. Her tongue felt thick. Her throat burned. When she tried to swallow, it scraped.

The first thing she saw was William.

He was leaning over her with an expression she rarely saw on him, one that looked too close to panic to be convincing. His eyes scanned her face the way a man checked a weapon for cracks, as if he was trying to figure out what had broken and how bad the damage was.

“Celeste,” he said quickly, voice tight. “You’re awake. Don’t move too much.”

She tried anyway. The moment she shifted, pain flared from her shoulder down her arm, sharp enough that her vision flickered. A sound escaped her, half breath and half cough, and the cough turned into something worse. It clawed up from her chest, making her ribs ache as if something inside her had been bruised.

William moved instantly. “Call a healer,” he barked toward someone out of her sight. “Now.”

Celeste tried to breathe through it, but something was wrong. That was the part that made her stomach tighten. The pain should have dulled by now. Her body should have started to knit itself together the way it always did. Even when she was injured, she could feel recovery begin, slow but certain.

This time, there was nothing.

All she could feel was just the pain that stayed where it was, as if her body had forgotten how to fix itself.

She coughed again. Her throat tasted faintly metallic.

William’s face hardened. Outside, Celeste could hear footsteps. She heard armor shift. She heard voices speaking in clipped tones, not southern voices either. They sounded like soldiers who were used to being obeyed.

Celeste forced her eyes to focus. Shapes moved beyond her bed. Shadows passed, blocking light for a moment, then clearing it again.

Then William’s voice rose, not directed at her, but at someone outside.

“Why must you do this?” he demanded, fury breaking through the worry. “We did nothing wrong. Surrounding the pack like this is tyranny, and this is not the North. We will report this to the King, and we will make sure you are punished for it.”

Celeste’s heart beat harder. What is going on? Did their plan failed all along?

She tried to speak, but her lips were dry, and her throat refused to cooperate. The only thing she could force out was a rough whisper.

(22)

Chapter 241

“W- water,” she managed.

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William snapped back to her immediately. He was at her side again, lifting her carefully, supporting her shoulders so she would not strain the injury. He brought a cup to her lips. The water felt cold and clean, and she drank greedily even though swallowing hurt.

“Hold on,” William said. “Just hold on. We will fix this.”

The words barely registered, because her memory was sliding back into place.

She immediately thought of the man in hood. And… and the smoke. The voice that sounded too controlled for a Demon Fang. The cave and… and the torture that followed.

Then the pain sharpened again, because Celeste remembered the knife.

Not a slash meant to kill. Not even a strike meant to cripple. It had been aimed like a statement.

A finger.

Her finger.

Celeste’s eyes widened slightly as her hand twitched under the blanket. She did not need to look to know what was missing. She could feel it. She could feel the raw edge under the bandage, the aching absence where skin and bone should have been.

“That wasn’t part of the plan,” she rasped, voice strained. “That was not-”

William’s jaw clenched. “I know.”

Celeste turned her head toward him, ignoring the dizziness. “Where is she?” she asked, forcing the words out with effort. “Where is Atasha?”

William’s

eyes flicked

away for half a second, and that was enough.

Celeste’s stomach dropped. “No,” she whispered, and the word sounded ugly even to her. “Tell me.”

“They took her,” William said, and his voice came out rougher than before, like he hated saying it. “The witch, a hooded one, took her. She is gone.”

Celeste’s face tightened. Her chest felt hot, then cold, then hot again. The plan was supposed to corner Atasha, not remove her cleanly. The Demon Fangs were supposed to hold Celeste long enough for the exchange, not mutilate her and trigger the North’s bloodlust. Someone had moved the pieces without permission.

Someone had taken control of the board.

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