To Marry A Monster (by Brey Mitchell) novel Chapter 242

Chapter 242

William’s POV

“You cannot do this to us,” William snapped. “This is not-”

“This isn’t the North,” Grace cut in calmly. “I have heard that line more times than I can count.”

William’s expression darkened immediately. His jaw tightened, and only then did he realize his hands had curled into fists at his sides. The moment Atasha had been taken, the northern soldiers moved without hesitation, surrounding the pack as if this place had already been judged and condemned.

There were more urgent matters that demanded attention. Celeste was poisoned. The enemy had escaped. Their consort had been captured.

Yet instead of helping, the North had sealed every exit, blocked every path, and stationed soldiers at every corner. No one was allowed to leave. No one was allowed to approach. His people were being watched, guarded, contained.

Like criminals.

Celeste was dying.

That was the only truth that mattered, and yet no one around him was treating it like the emergency it was.

He turned sharply toward Grace, anger burning through inside him. “You cannot do this,” he repeated, hoping it was enough to go through the woman’s thick skull. “You have no right to surround this pack. This is not northern territory. This violates every inter–pack agreement we have.”

Grace did not move. She stood in front of him with her hands relaxed at her sides. The northern soldiers behind her did not shift either, as if they were extensions of her will.

“This is not the North,” she replied. “Is there a need for you to repeat those words?”

William felt something twist in his chest. It was not fear. It was disbelief. How could these people be so fearless? The Northern Lord is not here! How dare these people treat them like this?

Celeste was lying only a short distance away, barely conscious, poisoned by something his healers could not even identify, and this woman was…

“You are overstepping,” he snapped. “Pull your men back. Now.”

Grace’s gaze hardened. “You are suspected of working with the Demon Fangs.”

The words landed like a blade.

William stared at her. For a split second, his mind went blank, then immediately flooded with anger. “That is an accusation you cannot make lightly,” he said. “The King himself would require proof before-”

“The King was very clear,” Grace cut in. nor any trials required.”

Any pack found cooperating with Demon Fangs is to be eliminated. No negotiations

William stepped forward. “You have no evidence” he said

cannot just execute someone without proof!”

Grace scoffed. “Isn’t that why you’re still breathing?”

Her words made his stomach drop.

“None. You know it, and I know it. The Laws were very clear! You

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Chapter 242

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“With evidence,” she continued, her voice cold. “You and your entire pack would already be ash. Every last one of you. The fact that you are still standing is not mercy. It is procedure.”

That did it.

William straightened fully and faced her head–on. Despite her presence, despite the soldiers surrounding them, he did not back down. He had been a Beta for most of his life. He knew how to stand his ground.

“You dare accuse us?” he said, his voice rising. “You march into our territory, surround our homes, treat our people like prisoners, and call it procedure?”

His hands shook, but he did not hide it. “Your consort grew up here,” he added sharply. “She lived under this roof. She ate our food. You stand there and speak as if we are enemies.”

Grace’s expression did not soften. If anything, it hardened further.

“Our consort,” she said, each word clipped. “Was treated like a slave in this place.”

The air shifted.

William’s anger flared hotter, louder than the part of him that knew he should stop.

But before he could say another words, Grace added. “Do you expect gratitude?” she asked. “Do you want us to thank you for feeding our consort after she worked for your pack?”

“That’s because she was!” he continued, unable to stop himself. “She was an omega. A slave. A worthless-”

He never finished the sentence.

Grace moved.

One moment she was standing several steps away, and the next she was on him. The impact slammed him into the wall hard enough to knock the air from his lungs. Stone bit into his back as her forearm pinned his chest, and cold metal pressed against his throat.

It took him a second to realized it was a dagger.

It was so close that he could feel the point break skin.

Gasps erupted around them. Northern soldiers tensed and a few of his pack members froze. Someone shouted, but it sounded distant, muffled by the rush of blood in William’s ears. He focused.

Grace’s face was inches from his now, her eyes blazing with fury so sharp it cut deeper than the blade at his neck.

“Say it again,” she said quietly. “Say one more word about our consort.“/

William’s breath came shallow. He had not even seen her draw the dagger. Had not sensed the movement until it was already over. The realization hit him harder than the weapon itself./

She was fast. Faster than him. Faster than he had expected.

“This,” Grace continued, pressing the blade just enough for him to feel the sting. “Is why you are surrounded. This is why you are suspected. Because you look at a woman who survived everything your pack threw at her and still call her worthless.”

Her voice dropped lower. “And if you ever forget your place again, I will make sure this dagger does not stop at your throat.”

William swallowed carefully, aware that one wrong move would end him.

Around them, no one dared intervene.

14:36 Fri, Jan 9 G

Chapter 242

Grace’s eyes did not leave William’s face as the dagger hovered at his throat, close enough that the cold of the blade seemed to seep into his skin.

“Remember that,” she said, her voice low, calm, and final.

Then she withdrew.

The pressure vanished so suddenly that William’s balance went with it. His back slid off the stone, and he dropped to the ground with a heavy thud that made the dirt jump. Pain shot up his spine, but worse than that was the heat that flared in his chest as humiliation burned through him. He could still feel the sting of where the blade had kissed his skin, a thin line of blood that proved how close he had come to dying without even seeing the strike.

Grace looked down at him as if he were something she had already measured and found lacking.

“You should act like the Beta you claim to be,” she said. “If you have any sense left, you will stop wasting it on pride and start thinking about your people.”

William’s jaw clenched, but he stayed silent. He forced himself to breathe evenly, even as his heart hammered with restrained fury.

Grace’s gaze drifted past him, toward the direction of the sick tent where Celeste had been laid down, and when she spoke again, her voice carried the kind of certainty that did not need shouting.

“If anything happens to the consort,” she said. “This place will not be punished by law. It will be erased.”

William’s eyes flicked up despite himself.

Grace continued, expression unreadable. “The North does not leave warnings twice. If our consort dies because of anything connected to this pack, the first thing that will burn will be your gates. The second will be your homes. The third will be every person inside them, whether they understand what is happening or not.”

She leaned forward slightly, just enough that William could hear the last part clearly.

“And

you will not even have corpses left to bury,” she said. “Only ash and a smell that will cling to this land for years. That is what happens when the North decides a place is no longer worth existing.”

The words settled like a weight. William believed she was not exaggerating.

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