To Marry A Monster (by Brey Mitchell) novel Chapter 127

Chapter 127

ATASHA’S POV

That counted as a confession. Even I knew that much. I wasn’t experienced in emotions, barely even in kindness, but whatever I’d just said had slipped far past anything casual.

The realization made my stomach knot. I wanted to disappear, to crawl under the floorboards, to hide anywhere but here. But some wishes don’t come true, not when he was still looking at me the way he was like I was something fragile that might shatter or melt away at the slightest touch.

My mind scrambled for a way out. Maybe I could laugh it off. Call it a joke. Pretend I hadn’t meant a single word. Would that fix it? Would that make him look away? But even as the thought came, I knew it wouldn’t I wasn’t clever, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think I could undo what had already been said.

My fingers fidgeted against my skirt, nails biting into my palms. Stop talking, I scolded myself silently. Stop making this worse.

I swallowed hard and added, my voice barely steady, “You… you don’t have to accept that.”

The silence stretched, and panic made the words tumble faster out of me. “I–I mean, I signed that contract, and I–without you–I-” My tongue tripped over itself, my thoughts a tangled mess.

Goddess, what am I doing? Every word felt like I was burying myself deeper, digging a hole I couldn’t climb out of. I wanted to stop, but my mouth wouldn’t listen.

Before I could make it any worse, Cassian suddenly closed the space between us and pulled me into his arms.

Cassian’s arms locked around me, firm enough to stop my words midstream. His heat pressed against me. steadying and overwhelming all at once. When I finally dared to lift my eyes, his face was so close I could see every sharp line of it.

His eyes caught me first. There were deep red, not bright, but so dark they almost looked black. Yet the color glimmered, like something hard and polished beneath the surface. They reminded me of jewels buried in stone, dangerous and beautiful at the same time.

“What did you just say?” His voice was low,

I blinked rapidly, my pulse hammering. “I–I said you don’t have to accept that”

His gaze didn’t ease. “Before that,” he said, the edge in his tone making it sound like a command more than a question.

My breath hitched. “I said… you’re the monster I’m willing to fight for The words slipped out before I could catch them. Heat flooded my face, and I stumbled over myself to add. “That wasn’t meant literally! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you my monster–I just-”

I stopped, my lips trembling, but his grip only tightened.

Despite not saying a word, Cassian’s eyes didn’t soften. They burned into me like they could reach past my words, past my skin, into the part of me I tried to keep hidden. He looked at me like he could devour me

10:02 Fri, Oct 3

Chapter 127

whole, like he was weighing not just what I’d said but everything I was.

I forced myself to hold his gaze, even as my stomach twisted.

A part of me I thought he was going to kiss me. His eyes said he would, the way they burned into me, the way the air between us thinned until I could barely breathe. My heart stuttered, waiting for it. Expecting it.

But nothing happened.

Cassian didn’t lean closer. His mouth didn’t touch mine. He just stayed there, close enough to make my pulse pound, and then pulled away.

The loss hit harder than I wanted to admit. His heat vanished from my skin, and the emptiness that followed was sharp, like I’d been cut open. I hated it. I hated the ache, the raw twist in my chest. Why had I expected a kiss? Why had I wanted one?

Goddess, was I insane? We weren’t whispering vows. We weren’t even at peace. We were arguing about something that I stupidly did. And yet, disappointment still burned in me, a shameful little ember that refused to go out.

I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself, but Cassian had already turned his head toward the door. His expression was unreadable now, as if that moment hadn’t even existed. He looked… expectant. As if he was waiting.

And then, on cue, came a knock.

“My Lord, you called for me?” Mendez’s voice sounded muffled through the wood.

“Come inside,” Cassian said.

The door opened, and Mendez stepped in, bowing first to Cassian, then to me. His sleeves were rolled to the elbow, fresh stains of herbs and blood at the edge of the cloth, clear signs he had come straight from the infirmary.

Cassian’s voice cut through the room. “Tell her how the test for witches is done.”

Mendez blinked, clearly caught off guard. His eyes shifted to me, then back to Cassian, before he cleared his throat.

“First, there are a few ways to know if someone is a witch,” he began. “The first is by scent. Witches reek of sulfur, like rot, acrid and sharp. It’s impossible to mistake. But…” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully, “The older ones, the stronger ones, especially those from the western lands, learned to mask their scent. Some even hid themselves so well they could walk through a werewolf camp unnoticed. But witches like that are rare now. Most were killed during the purge.”

“The second way,” Mendez continued. “Is by watching when they use their power. Witches always need a sacrifice. Always. No ability works without it. It could be an animal, a plant, anything

alive. The stronger the spell, the greater the sacrifice. That’s why the stories say some witches even cut off their own limbs in desperate times. I knew one once, she wanted to escape, so she dug up her own eyes. She survived, but she never saw again.”

My stomach turned, bile rising in my throat.

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