To Marry A Monster (by Brey Mitchell) novel Chapter 220

Atasha’s POV

I left the Nightfall Pack without any fanfare. At that time, I never thought that I would one day come back to this place, much less come back with so many people waiting for me.

I sneered. I simply couldn’t stop myself.

It came out before I could smooth it away. The idea of Nightfall preparing a “welcome” as if I had been a lost treasure instead of a discarded burden made something bitter twist behind my ribs.

“Is there something wrong?” Grace asked, she was sitting across from me, eyes moving between the window and the carve seams of the door as if she could read threats through wood. She had been like that since we crossed the border, and the closer we got to Nightfall territory, the more her attention narrowed.

“Nothing.” I answered.

“They have arranged a formal reception,” she said. “They are waiting at the border. There are banners. There are guards positioned like it is a celebration.”

“A celebration,” I repeated, my mouth curving. “That is a generous word for what this is.”

Grace didn’t flinch at the tone. She had learned how to take my moods the way she took a bl caution, but without fear. “Your former packmates are calling it a welcome,” she continued. Public and… very difficult to refuse.”

ge, with respect and what it to look respectful

I leaned back against the carriage wall and let out a breath. In my mind, I saw faces I had not missed. Hands that used to snatch herbs from my basket just to laugh when I scrambled to retrieve them. Eyes that used to slide over me like I was less than nothing. People who only remembered my name when they needed someone to blame.

And now, they were waiting for me.

My sneer deepened. It would have been easy to mistake it for ange

if I had not felt how calm I truly was.

“They never welcomed me when I lived there,” I said. “I won’t pretend this is about love now.

Grace’s gaze flicked to my hands, then to my face. “There is something you must know.”

I looked up. “What is it?”

Her expression tightened slightly, the way it did when she was weighing whether to tell me a detail that would provoke me. “Our scouts detected Demon Fangs nearby,” she said. “They are not far. The signs are messy, as if they moved fast and didn’t bother to clean their trail”

My pulse didn’t spike the way it used to. It didn’t even surprise me.

“Messy,” 1 echoed. “Uncoordinated.”

“Yes,” Grace confirmed. “It looks quickly planned. Not the kind of ambush we saw before,”

I turned my head toward the window, watching the dark trunks of trees pass in steady rhythm. “And?” I asked, because I already knew the shape of this game. I just wanted to hear Grace say it.

Grace followed my gaze as if she could see through the forest itself. “Nightfall has been keeping it quiet,” she said. “But we confirmed something else. They invited representatives from other packs to witness your arrival.”

My mouth curved again, this time with a slow, knowing satisfaction

18:00 Mon, Dec 15 JMB ·

Chapter 220

“So that is why the welcome is loud,” I murmured. “They want an audience.”

Grace nodded once. “They want you to showcase your ability.”

10 ouchers

I let my eyes half–close as the truth settled into place with almost insulting ease. Of course they did. Of course William would drag outsiders to his border, dress his desperation in ceremony, and call it pride.

If other packs saw me heal in front of them, Nightfall would gain something they could not earn with strength alone. They could claim me as proof that their pack had not fallen, proof that the Goddess still favored them, proof that their Alpha’s line was not cursed.

I could almost hear William’s voice in my head already, smooth and righteous as he lied.

I smirked and leaned closer to the window as I thought about the things that I heard that night in my father’s study.

In about an hour, we would reach the border.

The sun had just risen, and the world outside had shifted into that early light that made everything look clean and harmless

The forest here was thick, heavy with leaves instead of snow, the ground damp instead of brittle. Mist clung low between th trees, not enough to hide movement, but enough to make shadows seem closer than they were. Birds called in the distance. and somewhere farther off, water ran over stones.

It was beautiful.

It was also a perfect place to die.

“Funny,” I said softly, still looking out. “When I was younger, I thought the North was the most dangerous place in Arecor.”

Grace remained silent, but I could feel her attention settle more fully on me, as if she knew this was not idle reflection.

“I thought ice and cold and warlords were the worst the world could offer,” I continued. “I thought the North would swallow me whole. I never thought my home would be more dangerous than the North.”

Grace did not argue. She didn’t offer comfort either. She simply listened, and in that silence, I heard confirmation.

My home had always been a place where smiles hid knives, where family meant ownership, and where affection was given only when it could be used later.

I shifted, reached into the inner pocket of my cloak, and pulled out something small enough to disappear between my fingers.

Then I held it out to Grace.

It was a pellet, no larger than a fingernail, dark and smooth, pressed tight as if it had been formed with care and patience. It looked harmless, like a piece of dried herb rolled too firmly.

Grace’s eyes dropped to it. Her hand did not move right away.

“What is this?” she asked..

“It’s something I made,” I said. “I used Elder Agape’s teachings. Not his exact recipe, because he would have scolded me for trying it without permission, but the foundation is his.”

Grace took it carefully, as if it might burn her skin. “What does it do?”

It blocks pain receptors, 1 answered. “Not forever, and not completely, but enough. Enough that you can keep moving even if something should stop you.

Grace’s jaw tightened slightly, her gaze lifted to mine. She understood the implication without me needing to say it. She had been in too many fights to pretend otherwise.

“You do understand what you are supposed to do, right?” I asked.

Grace studied me for a moment. Then she nodded. “I understand.”

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