To Marry A Monster (by Brey Mitchell) novel Chapter 206

Chapter 206

ATASHA’S POV

49

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I smoothed my hands over my skirts under the table. The last time someone had “celebrated” my birthday, I had been surrounded by family and elders, all smiling too tightly as they waited for a wolf that never came.

I saw flashes without meaning to. Genevieve’s fingers gripping my shoulder too hard. Father’s jaw clenched as the moon rose. Celeste’s eyes on me, wide and bright, because she was waiting for proof that her sister would still be worth something.

When nothing happened, they still cut the cake. They still said the words. That did not change the way the room had felt heavy, like someone had died and no one wanted to name who it was.

After that, birthdays felt like a date other people used to measure my failure.

I pushed the memory down and forced myself to focus on the present.

On Cassian.

“Thank you,” I said, more firmly this time. “For remembering.”

He poured wine into my cup, then his. “You are annoyed,” he observed.

I shook my head. “No. Surprised.” I glanced at the table. “And… trying to understand where you found southern food in the North.”

The main dish sat on a wide plate between us, still steaming.

Slices of dark meat rested in a shallow pool of thick sauce. Crisped herbs clung to the edges. The smell hit me first, rich, smoky, with a sharp spice that tugged memories from years ago. There was a hint of citrus under it, and something sweet that clung to the air.

I stared.

“That is “The name slipped out before I could stop it. “Emberback boar.”

Cassian’s mouth tipped at one corner. “So the cook did not lie.”

Emberback boars lived in the southern forests of Arecor, thick–shouldered and fast, with a dark stripe along their backs that glowed faintly when they were angry, Hunters always said you had to catch them from downwind, or they would crash straight through the trees or try to break your ribs instead of running.

In the South, they were a festival animal. The meat was marinated in crushed red spice–berries and citrus; then roasted until the edges turned crisp. The sauce was made from the drippings, crushed herbs, garlic, and a bit of honey. The best ones were done over open flame, with the fat crackling and popping until the smoke soaked into every strip.

They did not exist in the North. The forests here were wrong for them. Too cold and too thin. The meat on this table should not have been able to reach us without days of travel and planning.

19:23 Fri, Dec 12

Chapter 206

49

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“How did you get this?” I asked. “These do not cross the border. Hunters keep them for the festivals. They say the meat spoils too fast if you try to transport it that far.”

“I did not ask for excuses,” he said. “I asked if it was possible. Mendez found a trader whose son breeds half- wild stock near the southern edge of Arecor. We used a stronger fae stone that could help with the preservation for the barrels. The rest was a matter of paying enough for them not to complain.”

I stared at him again. “You planned this before the attack?”

“Four weeks ago,” he said. “Before the King’s messenger arrived. Before Matron Yara decided to invite witches into my courtyard.” His shoulders shifted. “It was supposed to be less complicated. Dinner, wine, some food you recognize. Then everything else happened.”

“Cassian…” My chest squeezed again, for different reasons.

He cut a piece of the boar and moved it to my plate without looking at me. “Eat,” he said. “If you cry on that tablecloth, I will have to listen to the servants gossip about how I broke you with dinner.”

“I am not going to cry,” I said, even though my eyes did sting a little. “And if anyone breaks anything with dinner, it will be me when I choke on that spice. You know I have not eaten this in years.” After my failed awakening, I was never allowed to join them for festivities. Not even Celeste was allowed to sneak this type of meat to someone like me.

“You will manage,” he said.

I snorted at that.

Then I picked up my fork and cut a small bite. The meat was tender, not as fresh as home, but close enough that the first taste hit hard. Smoke, heat, a faint sweetness from the honey, the sharpness of the citrus cutting through the fat.

For a second, I was sixteen again, standing at the front of a courtyard laughing while everyone else danced, holding a plate and drinks, waiting for me to awaken something that I did not have.

Now I sat on a northern balcony with a candlelit table and a lord watching my face as if my opinion mattered more than a festival full of elders.

“Well?” he asked.

“It is…” I searched for a word that did not sound ridiculous. “Good. It’s excellent.” Almost right. The berries taste a little weaker than the south, but that is not the cook’s fault. They lose strength in the cold. The sauce is thick enough and the meat… was something I had dreamed of eating again for years!

“I will tell the kitchen they have your approval,” he said. “They were ready to start a war if you did not like it. They argued about the recipe for an hour.”

I smiled. “You can tell them the southern consort approves.”

We ate at a quieter rhythm after that. He tried the meat with the same caution he treated new weapons, then nodded once as if Emberback boar had just passed some personal test.

19:23 Fri, Dec 12

Chapter 206

་ (4)

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There were other dishes too. Some roasted roots dressed in herbs I recognized from home, flatbread brushed with garlic and oil, a bowl of preserved fruit that must have cost more than some families earned in a season.

After a few bites, I set my fork down and leaned back slightly. “You know,” I said. “In the South, they say Emberback boar is for victories and new beginnings. Hunters roast it when they return alive. Families cook it when someone survives a bad winter or a sickness. They do not usually serve it for birthdays, except during the awakening ceremony.”

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