To Marry A Monster (by Brey Mitchell) novel Chapter 214

ATASHA’S POV

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“Do you have any news?” I asked the moment Grace climbed into the carriage. She ducked slightly under the frame, the late afternoon light catching her newly cleaned uniform. She handed me a small wooden bowl filled with freshly peeled apple slices, offering them as naturally as if we had not survived an ambush days ago.

Grace smiled. “Same as before. She has been wanting to see you.”

I stared at her for a beat, the apples untouched in my lap. “You know that is not what I meant,” I said, shifting to face her fully. “I was not asking about Celeste or her tantrums since we separated carriages.”

Grace’s smile faded, replaced by that guarded expression she used whenever she was choosing her next words carefully.

“I was asking about Cassian. Has there been anything from the capital? Any message? Even a rider crossing paths with our escort?”

Grace lowered herself onto the opposite bench, bracing her back against the wall as the carriage swayed. She exhaled slowly.

“No,” she said. “Nothing from the capital. Rio sent inquiries through the northern relay posts, but they reported nothing unusual, at least nothing they can confirm.”

A hollow feeling tugged beneath my ribs.

Five days. It has been five entire days since we set out from the North. Five days of glancing at the horizon, hoping to see a messenger riding hard toward us.

In fact, Cassian had sent a letter yesterday, telling me how his day had been. BUT that is not what I wanted to hear. I had expected something. Even a simple message stating everything is alright now, or that the crown had responded, or that the political storm he hinted at was worsening. Something. Anything.

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Chapter 214

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Instead, I had a letter from him telling me about how he had missed me and wished he could come to the south… with me. This did not sound like Cassian at all!

Grace watched me closely. “You are thinking yourself into circles again.”

“I am not,” I said too fast. Then I added, “Maybe I am.”

Outside, the hooves of our escort horses thudded against the frozen ground in a steady rhythm. The air smelled less like the biting cold of the North and more like damp earth. We had left northern territory yesterday. Today the trunks of the trees were darker, the wind warmer, the wilderness thicker. Every mile carried us deeper into the South, closer to Nightfall territory.

A small part of me, one I did not want to acknowledge, kept wondering if we had made a mistake. If leaving the North when everything was shifting had been selfish. If I had abandoned him at the worst possible moment.

Sadly, this had been part of my plan from the beginning.

I was the one who suggested that we deceive everyone by acting as if we had a fight. It was the simplest way to explain why I left the North so suddenly. If word spread that I ran into Celeste’s arms after an argument with my husband, it would look petty, emotional, and predictable. That was exactly what I needed. I could not afford for anyone to guess that I left because I had questions about where I truly came from.

I told Cassian that we needed a clean story. Something that would leave no room for speculation. Something that enemies could accept at face value. A wife who fled in anger was far less interesting than a woman searching for answers about forbidden origins.

He agreed, reluctantly.

Which meant everything that followed had to look real, including the ambush.

I knew Celeste wanted to provoke me. knew she wanted control. I also

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Chapter 214

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knew she wanted to look like the one who influenced me to return home. So I let her. I fed into it. I pushed the disagreement with Cassian harder than necessary. I raised my voice so the guards outside the room would hear it. I overturned the tray on purpose. I let Celeste believe she had played me so she would not question why I insisted she travel with me.

The ambush was also part of the plan, just not as deadly as everyone assumed.

We chose a location near the last northern patrol route, an area Cassian’s spies already swept. Rio and Lucas placed their men beyond the tree line, disguised, ready to intervene. No real enemy crossed that border. Not that day. The arrows were real, but the aim was controlled. The wounds were shallow. Not a single soldier died, and my hands could fix what damage was done in minutes.

All of it was designed to give us one believable outcome: I had become a target too large to ignore, therefore I needed to be moved, away from

Celeste.

And Celeste, convinced she was being pushed aside because of suspicion, accepted the separation exactly the way I expected she would, loudly, dramatically, and without looking too closely at the reasons behind it.

The entire display created the perfect illusion. No one would suspect that the real reason I left was far quieter and far more dangerous.

I needed to speak to my father.

I needed to understand why I had no wolf.

I needed to know why my blood held power I did not ask for.

Most of all–I needed to know what I was.

A sighed left my lips. Despite everything, another part of me whispered something far more dangerous.

Go back.

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