To Marry A Monster (by Brey Mitchell) novel Chapter 300

Chapter 300

Atasha’s POV

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It wanted me to sacrifice myself. The stone knew I had a mate and was telling me to sacrifice myself to save my mate. The word still rang inside my skull when a voice cut through it hard enough to crack the trance.

“No!”

Cassian’s shout was not anger. It was fear stripped clean, the kind that comes from a man who has already chosen where he will die and is still refusing to let it happen.

My head snapped toward the sound. The world rushed back into place all at once. The clearing, the beasts fleeing into cracks, the floating stone humming under my hands, and Cassian-

Cassian was on the ground.

For a heartbeat, my mind refused to accept the angle of his body, the way one knee was bent wrong, the way his shoulder strained as he tried to push himself up and failed. Then I saw the blood.

It spread dark and fast across his stomach where the blade had gone in.

Xylas stood over him, half coated in that black sheen like something inside his skin was still shifting, and his hand held the sword as if it weighed nothing. The blade was wet. Cassian’s armor had not stopped it. The blackness did not need to be sharper than steel. It only needed a moment.

Cassian’s jaw clenched as he tried to rise. His hand shook around his sword, and blood dripped between his fingers onto

stone.

My lungs seized.

I had been inside the stone’s visions. I had been drowning in memories and warnings and the weight of that single word. Sacrifice.

Now reality was in front of me again. It looked like the stone had already chosen its price.

Xylas lifted his head slowly.

His eyes met mine. The anger in them was not the hunger he had shown earlier. It was fury like ownership denied. It crawled up my spine and tightened my muscles like a threat that wanted to become hands around my throat.

He looked at me the way a predator looks at prey that has stepped onto sacred ground.

I met his gaze.

The fear that should have crushed me did not return. Something inside me clicked into place, and it felt like waking from a long, humiliating dream where I had kept begging for permission to survive.

My mouth curved before I could stop it.

A smirk.

Not because I thought this was funny, but because I finally understood him. He wanted me to tremble. He wanted me to plead. He wanted me to hand him the ending he craved.

So I gave him the opposite.

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“Foolish,” I said. “If you think that was enough to fool me, think again.”

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Xylas’s expression tightened as if my tone itself offended him. The blackness under his skin rippled, climbing higher across his throat like it responded to his irritation.

Cassian sucked in a rough breath behind him. His eyes found mine. Even bleeding, even struggling to stay conscious, he was still watching me like he could not afford to look away for a second.

“No,” he rasped again, and the word came out smaller this time, dragged through pain. “Atasha-”

I shook my head. I knew what to do this time.

I did not answer him with words.

I answered with action.

My hands flattened harder against the stone.

I stopped treating it like something I was clinging to for support and started treating it like what it actually was.

A lock.

A heart.

A mechanism built to respond to a bond that was willing to pay.

The warmth surged up my arms again, stronger than before. This time I did not let it simply flow through me. I pushed

back.

I pushed my ability into the stone, like feeding a flame with breath.

The light around my fingers thickened, crawling over my knuckles and wrists until it wrapped my forearms in those bright veins. The hum deepened into something heavier, and the pulse under my palms grew louder until it matched the

pounding in my ears.

The stone answered.

It tightened around me, not physically, but with presence, with pressure that was not suffocating like the core but stabilizing. like it was bracing itself for impact.

I watched as that smug look on Xylas’s face disappeared. Then he moved the instant he felt it.

He launched toward me with the speed of a strike that had been held back too long. He did not run. He used the wall, his boot hitting stone and pushing off, catapulting his body through the air like he was a thrown blade aimed straight at my

throat.

Blackness surged over his arms, forming into claws again, and his face twisted with excitement and rage because he believed he would reach me in time.

Cassian tried to rise.

He got one foot under him, then his body shook and buckled. Blood spilled faster. His hand clawed at stone as if he could drag himself across the clearing by force alone.

“ATASHA!” he shouted, and the sound broke on the last syllable.

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Chapter 300

Xylas’s shadow fell over me.

His hand reached.

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I felt the air split from the force of his movement. I saw his fingers opening, saw the black coating stretching at the joints like it wanted to become talons long enough to pierce bone.

And I did not pull away.

I did not let go.

I pushed harder.

The warmth inside the stone flared into something blinding. The bright veins up my arms surged and converged at my chest like they were being pulled into a single point. The bond under my skin burned as if it had finally been forced to choose between fear and purpose.

The stone’s pulse slammed once, heavy enough to make my ribs vibrate.

Xylas’s hand was inches from my face when the light surged outward.

It did not explode like a fae stone. It did not throw heat and debris. It released force like a door finally slamming shut after being held open by a hundred hands.

The air between us bucked.

Xylas’s body jerked mid–lunge as if he had hit an invisible wall.

His claws scraped through empty space and met resistance that made the blackness on his arms ripple in panic. His eyes widened for the first time, not with fear, but with offended disbelief, like the world had broken a rule by refusing to obey

him.

I kept my palms pressed to the stone and stared straight at him through the flood of light.

“You wanted me to break it,” I said, voice steady even as my bones hummed. “Then you wanted me to sacrifice myself. You wanted me to free you.”

My smile sharpened.

“So you could devour what’s left of this world.”

The stone pulsed again beneath my hands, and the warmth tightened around my ribs like a grip that refused to loosen.

“But you forgot something,” I continued, because I could feel it now, the shape of the choice the stone had been pushing into my skull.

Xylas bared his teeth as he fought the invisible force holding him back. Blackness crawled down his wrists and surged forward again, trying to push through, trying to smear itself onto the stone, onto me, onto anything it could corrupt.

I held.

I pushed.

And as the cave groaned and the mouth behind the stone pulsed like it was choking on its own hunger, I looked past Xylas for a fraction of a second, toward Cassian on the ground, toward the blood pooling under him, toward the bond screaming

between us.

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I did not let the stone drag me into numbness again.

I chose.

Then I met Xylas’s gaze again and spoke through the vibration in my bones.

“I am not your key.”

For a fraction of a heartbeat, the clearing went still, as if the mountain itself had inhaled and refused to exhale.

Then Xylas screamed.

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It was not the roar of a predator losing control. It was the sound of something older realizing it had miscalculated. The scream tore out of him so violently that the air around his mouth warped. The black sheen coating his face flickered like a surface cracking under pressure.

The first fracture appeared at the corner of his eye.

It was thin, pale against the dark coating, like a hairline crack in stone. Then another line split down his cheek. Then a third across his jaw. They did not bleed. They split.

The blackness beneath his skin reacted like something alive trapped in glass. It recoiled from the light pouring out of me, then surged again in a desperate attempt to reassemble what was breaking. But every time it tried to seal one fracture, two more spread across his face.

He clawed at the invisible barrier between us.

His fingers slammed into it again and again, but each impact only made the cracks widen. Pieces of the black coating flaked off his knuckles and dissolved midair before they hit the ground. The more he struggled, the more unstable he became.

“You dare,” he snarled, but the words fractured along with his face. His voice glitched between registers, slipping between Xylas’s tone and something deeper that did not belong to any throat shaped like a man’s.

I felt the stone shifting under my palms.

Not outward.

Inward.

The warmth that had wrapped around my ribs condensed into something tighter, denser, and the pulse beneath my hands changed rhythm. It was no longer beating outside of me.

It was syncing with me.

Light crawled up my arms again, but this time it did not stop at my shoulders. It sank into my chest like water being pulled through cracked earth. The stone’s surface began to blur, its edges losing definition as if it was melting into air

I felt it enter me.

It pressed through my palms and into my skin in waves of pressure that made my lungs tighten. It did not burn, but it marked every nerve it passed through. My heart stumbled once, then resumed beating with a strength that felt foreign and ancient at the same time.

Xylas saw it.

Panic twisted his expression in a way

that

rage

never had.

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“No,” he breathed. This time the word did not carry arrogance. It carried fear.

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He lunged again, but he still could not cross the invisible line between us. Every step he forced forward caused another crack to split through his face. The fractures spread down his neck, branching across his collarbone, slicing through the black coating like fault lines tearing across stone.

His skin began to break apart in segments.

Not chunks of flesh.