To Marry A Monster (by Brey Mitchell) novel Chapter 20

Chapter 20

ATASHA’S POV

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“You-” Genevieve’s voice faltered, her expression twisting in something between shock and irritation. For a moment, she looked genuinely speechless, as if she hadn’t expected that resistance at all. “Atasha… how could you say something like that?” She looked around the tent as if scared that someone else would suddenly barge in and punish me for saying those words.

“I think the Lord wanted me dead,” I whispered, just loud enough for my voice to tremble between us. “The maid… the maid was wearing something like those soldiers. She said… she said… it was the Lord who wanted me to have the tea. We need to let the King know and have a divorce before he kills me… Mother, please. You must save me.”

Genevieve’s eyes widened, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of panic, not for me, but for what I’d just said. Her gaze darted around the tent, scanning for hidden ears. “Atasha!” she hissed, lowering her voice in a sharp whisper. “Do you realize what you’re saying? The marriage certificate you signed should have already arrived at the castle. As far as the law is concerned, you are now legally married to Lord Cassian. There’s no going back.”

“Do you understand what it would mean to divorce a royal? Especially that royal? You’d be tried for treason, if not executed outright. You need to stop this foolishness, immediately.”

“But-” I started, letting my lower lip tremble.

“But what?” she snapped, her tone clipped. “Did you want your sister to marry him instead? Is

that it?”

I opened my mouth, then slowly closed it, eyes downcast. I didn’t answer, because I didn’t have to. That was exactly what I wanted her to think. A frightened, reluctant bride. One terrified of her husband. One clinging to her mother for protection.

Yes, let them see that.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught it, a flicker of movement. A glance. So subtle it almost looked like it’s nothing. But it was there,

Genevieve looked at Celeste. It was the kind of glance most people wouldn’t notice. Once, I wouldn’t have either.

But now? Now, I saw everything.

It was a signal. A cue passed between them like actors on a stage. And right on time, Celeste moved. She glided to my side, knelt beside the bed with grace, and took my hand like it was

instinct.

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Chapter 20

Her eyes were red, swollen.

I blinked.

How was that even possible?

Had she really cried that much? Or had she made sure to look like she had?

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Had she forced tears down her cheeks just long enough to stain her lashes, only to wash them off behind a veil of pity? I couldn’t tell anymore.

How could someone cry so much and still look this perfect? Was it real? Or… makeup? Drops to mimic tears? A trick she’d practiced until even mirrors believed her?

“I know you’re blaming me,” Celeste whispered, her voice cracking just enough to sound like it was holding back tears. I turned to her slowly, brows furrowed. What is she doing?

Then it clicked.

“I know you think it should’ve been me,” she continued, her lips trembling, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “That I should’ve been the one to marry Lord Cassian. And maybe you’re right. Maybe I should have. If it meant sparing you from this-” her voice broke, “-then I should’ve taken your place. Even if only as a concubine… I could’ve gone with you. Maybe it wouldn’t feel so cruel.”

“Celeste, stop,” Genevieve interrupted sharply, her hand flying to her daughter’s arm. “How could you say something like that?”

Her tone was half–scolding, half–panicked, as if Celeste’s words were too dangerous. “Your sister is not heartless. You had taken great care of her since she failed to awaken years ago. How could she let you suffer? She knew you couldn’t survive that man. She married him to protect you. Don’t twist her sacrifice into something ugly with this nonsense.”

I blinked, momentarily stunned.

The way their voices cracked, the trembling hands, the sorrowful glances could easily fool anyone. If I hadn’t heard the truth with my own ears, I might’ve believed they were actually hurting. That Celeste was breaking because of guilt.

But now? All I saw was how seamlessly they shifted roles. Mother, the defender. Celeste, the grieving sister.

“No…” Celeste shook her head. “I can’t let her marry into the North. I can’t–I can’t just watch

that man hurt her.”

“Celeste!”

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Chapter 20

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“I will talk to Lord Cassian- ”

“Celeste, what are you doing!?” Genevieve hissed. “Stop it. Just- ” Genevieve looked at me as if silently pleading for me to say a word to ease my sister’s guilt but I said nothing. How could I? Celeste’s acting was too convincing, it was so good. “This could destroy our pack! Stop it. Atasha, say something to your sister!”

“I- “I lowered my head. “I am not blaming you.”

“I know you are,” Celeste said. “But don’t worry, I will talk to Lord Cassian. I will marry him as

a concubine, and we can travel to the north together. We can protect each other and I-“

“Will you stop?” Genevieve said. “Someone! Someone… come!”

Almost immediately, one of our pack’s omega came in.

“Bring the young miss back to the mansion and do not… let her talk to anyone else.” Genevieve said. “Use force if needed.”

“No- Mother please… don’t.”

I watched as two omegas forcibly pulled Celeste away from me. In the past, this performance would have immediately convinced me to die for her. But right now, I could immediately see the crack beneath it. Celeste had the blood of an Alpha, how could two omegas just drag her

out of the tent?

This was just another act. Something that was designed to make me drown with guilt. “Your sister cares about you so much, she would rather accompany you to the north than think about the pack,” Genevieve’s words brought me out of my stupor.

I immediately looked at her.

She continued. “Celeste is the future of our pack. She is meant to lead, and you know that,” Genevieve said.“If Lord Cassian wanted you dead, then his people wouldn’t have saved you.”

Then, with a smile too soft to be trusted, she reached into the folds of her cloak and pulled out a small glass vial. “I want you to keep this,” she said, pressing it into my palm.

The vial was delicate, Clear glass, corked, no markings, just fine white powder inside, like sifted ash.

“It’s odorless,” she added. “Tasteless, too. If anyone tries to hurt you again… use this. It’s fast. You don’t even need much.”

My fingers curled slowly around the vial, the chill of the glass seeping into my palm.

I didn’t have to ask questions to know what the contents were. It was poison.

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Chapter 20

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