To Marry A Monster (by Brey Mitchell) novel Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Collin Black’s POV

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“What is going on!?” Jason’s voice echoed through the chaos. “Why is- Aren’t those- Demon Fangs?”

The shapes that burst from the fog were nothing like the disciplined hunters the Cassian’s men were known to be.

They were the Demon Fangs. Even in full werewolf form, their movements were ragged. Fur was matted with blood, some theirs, some not. Gashes tore across shoulders and flanks, deep enough to show bone in places. One staggered forward with half an ear missing and a front paw dragging like the joint had been shattered. Another’s jaw hung at an unnatural angle, teeth bared but clotted with gore.

They were breathing hard, each inhale sounding like a growl dragged through a crushed throat. Several had arrows bristling from their hides, broken shafts still lodged deep. The stench of burned fur clung to them–somebody had used fire at close range.

Jason’s eyes narrowed. “Didn’t they ambush Cassian’s troops? Why do they look like they were the ones ambushed?”

Collin stepped up beside him, scanning the line of wounded predators. “You’re certain Cassian took it?”

“I’m certain,” Jason said without hesitation. “I saw him drink it. Every drop.”

“Then is it possible they found an antidote?”

Jason shook his head sharply. “Impossible.” He glanced back at the shifting line of his men, all watching the carnage at the fog’s edge. “But since we’re already here…”

Collin opened his mouth, but Jason raised a hand in a sharp signal for silence. His expression didn’t change, but the message was clear.

Collin’s jaw tightened. Memories of Cassian’s brutality came unbidden, how fast he could strike, how little warning he gave before ending an Alpha who crossed him. If Cassian wasn’t poisoned, if he’d survived whatever trap they’d set, the retaliation would be swift and

merciless.

Collin gave a short nod. Jason’s gaze stayed fixed on the struggling Demon Fangs as he spoke to his captains. “Attack the Demon Fangs. Kill them all.”

The order cracked through the ranks like a whip. Collin didn’t need more explanation. This fight would give them a clean excuse to enter the fog, and once they were in, Cassian’s

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Chapter 50

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position would be exposed.

Collin turned to William. “Take the front spears and flank them from the left. Archers, keep a steady line and don’t waste arrows. The rest with me, we drive straight through.”

The commands were met with a low chorus of acknowledgments. Shields locked. Spears leveled. Then, with a roar that cut through the fog, both packs surged forward.

The first clash was brutal. A Demon Fang lunged at a Howler’s shield, claws carving deep grooves into the oak, only to be met with a spear that punched through its chest and out its back. Another leapt at a Nightfall archer, snapping teeth inches from the man’s throat, before a sword came down in a hard chop, splitting skull and muzzle in one stroke.

The fog thickened around them, turning shapes into shadows until they were on top of each other. Arrows hissed past, some finding flesh, others vanishing into the white. Men shouted warnings and kills. Wolves howled in pain and rage. A spear team drove one Demon Fang to the ground, holding it pinned while another soldier slammed a hatchet into its neck again and again until the head rolled free.

One Nightfall fighter screamed as a Fang’s claws tore open his stomach. Blood poured over his hands as he fell, and the Fang lunged for another target, only to be smashed aside by a Howler’s shield, then finished with a thrust through the ribs.

A sound tore through the fog, a howl, but not the kind that roused courage or called for reinforcements. This one crawled along the spine, sharp and wrong, making the hairs on every neck stand on end.

The chaos faltered. Men froze mid–swing. Even the Demon Fangs, snarling and bleeding, halted like prey sensing a predator far worse than them.

Then a voice followed, loud and unmistakable. “Kill the Demon Fangs! Kill them all!”

Figures emerged from the fog, shapes sharpening into black and red. They came in fast, weapons dripping, movements vicious and unrestrained. Cassian’s troops.

They weren’t fighting like soldiers, they fought like starved hounds let loose from the chain. Blades cut through flesh, claws raked bone, spears punched through ribs. Demon Fangs fell one after another, not just defeated but dismantled.

Collin and Jason locked eyes. This wasn’t the outcome they had planned for.

Then a bugle’s call cut through the slaughter, sharp and final.

From the black–and–red line, a familiar figure strode forward, Physician Mendez. His armor was marked with fresh blood, his gauntlets dented from impact. He stopped a few paces from them and inclined his head in greeting, though there was nothing respectful in the look that

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Chapter 50

followed.

🙂))

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“This is… unexpected,” Mendez said, his voice carrying an ease that didn’t match the carnage still spilling behind him.

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