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  MONSTER’S BRIDE

  R.K. PIERCE

  Monster’s Bride

  Copyright © 2022 by R.K. Pierce

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Formatted by Jennifer Laslie

  CONTENTS

  Trigger Warning

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Author Note

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  TRIGGER WARNING

  Monster’s Bride is an enemies-to-lovers romance that include monsters, size difference, and strong sexual content. It contains darker themes including violence, poison, and attempted SA. If none of that is your cup of tea, you should probably turn back and look for something a little sweeter.

  For everyone who’s ever dreamed of being railed by a minotaur.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Irissa

  Somewhere between my mother’s death and my betrothal announcement—both of which took place this week—I’ve lost every shred of self-control I possess. Now, I’m storming to the throne room to berate my father in front of a group of nobles.

  Etiquette be damned. What I want is an explanation.

  “Princess Irissa!” My handmaid, Lizette, hurries after me, even though she knows better than to try and stop me.

  My pride came from my mother, alongside my long, silver hair and icy blue eyes. My bullheadedness came from my father.

  I’m going to give him a piece of my mind, one way or another.

  “You’re wasting your breath, Liz,” I snap, my eyes burning a hole through the stone wall at the end of the corridor.

  A few more turns will land me in front of the double doors leading to the throne room. Everything I want to say—scream—at my father bubbles just beneath my skin, burning to escape. I’m blinded by rage, ready to explode.

  May the gods have mercy on anyone who crosses my path. I certainly won’t.

  “Perhaps we should wait until after his meeting,” she pipes in. “At least that way, you won’t embarrass yourself in front of the nobles.”

  Lizette has been with me for nearly a decade, but she’s only a few years older than I am. She’s always been the voice of reason when my life is chaos, and she’s talked me out of a million bad ideas. Deep down, I know I should listen to her, but I can’t do it. Not this time. This is a rare moment where her reason won’t take root.

  Nothing will change my mind.

  Even if I arrive to the throne room and stab my father in the heart with the blade strapped to my thigh, the punishment for regicide would be better than whatever awaits me in Ulleh. My betrothal to their prince is a death sentence anyway.

  “We probably should,” I say, not slowing my steps. “But if I’m going out, I’m doing it with a bang.”

  She groans, but I ignore it. I know she means well, but right now, I don’t care. I don’t care about anything, except bursting into the throne room and giving my father the biggest piece of my mind I can manage. Besides, I know she’ll forgive me for being hostile later. She always does.

  The steady clicks of our footsteps echo off the stone walls as we tear through the castle, and Lizette doesn’t speak up again. She follows on my heels quietly, surely bracing herself for whatever commotion I’m about to cause, planning what she’ll do after the dust settles.

  Her logical thinking is something I both admire and envy the most about her. Where I’m a chaotic whirlwind, she’s a peaceful lake. We balance each other out, which is probably why she’s been with me for so long, despite multiple job opportunities in the castle. We need each other.

  Aside from a few sporadic paintings, every corridor looks the same. It’s easy to get lost. Ever-burning lanterns hang evenly spaced on the walls, and high, arched ceilings stretch overhead. A burgundy carpet trimmed in gold runs the length of the floor, but it’s so worn from centuries of use that we might as well be walking on stone. Its shabby condition is a tiny reminder of the current state of our kingdom.

  It’s hanging on by a thread.

  Our resources and population have been worn thin by years of war, and the enemies stalking our kingdom at night to pillage and slaughter our villagers are the same monsters my father has promised me to: the minotaurs of Ulleh.

  They come at night, sneaking through the streets, leaving everything ruined in the light of day. I used to creep onto my balcony at night to search for signs of them, to raise an alarm if needed, but when my father caught me scaling the roof a few months ago, he had my windows boarded.

  “You’re going to get yourself killed,” he’d yelled in my face, which seems comical now.

  What value could my life possibly hold if he signed it over so willingly?

  Another flicker of rage sparks in my chest, and I quicken my footsteps.

  My loyalty has always been to my kingdom and my people, and I thought there was nothing I wouldn’t do to protect them. I would fight for them. I would kill for them. However, being betrothed to the leader of the beasts responsible for tearing my kingdom apart crosses every boundary I didn’t know I had.

  I’m no good to my kingdom dead.

  When we round the final corner, I finally see the throne room doors, and the liquid fire in my veins burns hotter. I’m only a few moments away from unleashing the fury I feel.

  I just have to hold it together for a little while longer.

  Usually, three or four knights would guard the entrance to the throne room, but now, a lone figure stands watch. It’s just another reminder of what this war has cost us. We’ve lost villagers, nobles, and knights to the minotaurs, along with countless buildings burned and rations stolen. We won’t survive much longer if the invasions continue.

  Our kingdom is on the verge of crumbling.

  The only thing I’ve lost that I can’t blame on the beasts is my mother. She’d been sick for nearly a month before she took her last breath. None of the healing herbs or potions could save her, and if she were still alive, I know she would have fought my father’s decision to marry me off with everything in her. She wouldn’t have handed her child over to the monsters.

  At the sound of our footsteps, the knight’s gaze snaps up, and I recognize him immediately. I would know that vibrant red hair anywhere. His sword is sheathed on his hip and his silver chest plate glints in the torchlight. It’s Darsan, the knight I’ve been secretly courting for the last several weeks.

  My heart plummets.

  If there’s one person aside from Lizette who stands a chance at dissuading me, it’s him, but I hope he’ll agree with me. He should be just as upset about my betrothal announcement as I am, possibly more so. What if he hasn’t heard yet? Am I about to break the news? Will I destroy him, just as Lizette did to me moments a
go when she relayed the message?

  I shirk off the questions, worried they’ll dull my determination. I’m on a mission to lay into my father until he ends the betrothal. I will fight for my life. I cannot fail.

  Darsan doesn’t say anything as he watches me approach, but he stands a little straighter and holds his chin a little higher. He looks so handsome in his uniform. I’d love to drag him off to a dark corner and kiss his impossibly soft lips until I forget how my world is falling apart, but I know that’s not an option. Not now, and possibly never again.

  “Princess,” he says when I stop a few feet from him. His stunning hazel eyes bounce from me to Lizette and back. “Your father is in a meeting.”

  “I’m well aware,” I say, attempting to keep my temper under control. It’s not him I’m mad at, and once my adrenaline high dips, I’m likely to crumble into his arms. “I need to speak with him.”

  He doesn’t budge. “I can’t allow that, Your Highness. I have strict orders from the king that he is not to be disturbed.”

  I scoff and roll my eyes so hard it hurts. “I don’t care about your orders, Darsan. This can’t wait.”

  I half hope the urgency in my voice will sway him, that he’ll step aside to let me in, but he doesn’t move. He swallows, clenching his jaw as he stares me down, and I can tell he’s fighting with himself.

  “I apologize, Princess, but he specifically said to keep you away until he was done with the nobles.” His gaze softens, and his brows crinkle. “You know I would let you through if I could…”

  “Then move.” I cut him off harshly, balling my hands into fists at my sides. “You can. You just don’t want to.”

  He sighs. “Whatever issue you have with him doesn’t concern me, but I’ll be the one to blame. I can’t let you by.”

  The last modicum of self-restraint I have evaporates at his words, and I lose myself to anger.

  “It most certainly does involve you.” I raise my voice and point at the doors behind him. “He’s betrothed me to the minotaur prince. Don’t you understand? He’s signed my death sentence, and he’ll seal it when we leave for Ulleh in a week.”

  Darsan blanches. Obviously, no one told him yet.

  Perfect. Now we’re all on the same page.

  His jaw drops, his eyes bouncing between Lizette and me again. He looks to her for an answer, as if my word isn’t convincing enough.

  “Is this true?” he asks.

  I glance over to see Liz dip her head. “I’m afraid so, Sir Darsan. It was announced at midday.”

  Eyes narrowed, I turn back to face him, and he reluctantly meets my gaze. I wish I could read his mind, know what he’s thinking, but I know he won’t say anything in front of Lizette. He risks losing much more than his rank if it gets out he’s been sleeping with the princess.

  “As upsetting as that is,” he says, slowly regaining his composure. “I can’t let you in. They won’t be much longer.”

  Upon being denied again, I see red, and my hands begin to shake. The fact that no one seems to understand how serious the situation is, how horribly earth-shattering it is, infuriates me. He’s getting the hell out of my way one way or another.

  Knowing firsthand how strong he is beneath that armor, I know I can’t take him down in a fight. It would be a waste of my energy and merely a laugh for him, considering my small stature. Force definitely isn’t the way to go.

  Screaming in the hallway doesn’t seem like an effective move either. The doors and walls are thick and mostly soundproof. I’d pass out from the lack of oxygen before anyone came to check on me.

  The only thing left at my disposal is blackmail, and while it wouldn’t normally be my weapon of choice, desperation is clawing at my skin. If I don’t get through this door quickly, I’m going to have a panic attack. The walls are closing in on me, and the only way to escape is through those double doors.

  “Please, Princess,” he says, inching closer to me until my chest brushes against his armor. “Don’t do this. Wait until the king is finished. I’m sure he’ll speak with you then.”

  Yep. Blackmail it is.

  “Darsan Leif, if I mean anything to you, you’ll get out of my way,” I say with all the sentiment I can muster.

  I don’t want to drag out our secrets in front of Lizette, but I will if I have to. If I’m shipped off to Ulleh, everything between us comes to an abrupt end. There will be no more “what ifs” or “maybes.” I’ll never see him again, and this is my only chance to fight for a different destiny. If I can get through to my father, what we have can continue to blossom.

  “You mean everything to me, Irissa.” He stares at me open-mouthed, and I realize I’ve struck a nerve. He’s so flustered, he forgot my title.

  “Then move,” I plead. “So I can fight to stay in my kingdom, my home. So I can stay here with you. If you won’t let me through, you’re a stranger to me.”

  The look of dismay in his eyes tells me I’ve won. His shoulders sag, and he drops his gaze, unable or unwilling to look at me anymore.

  “Fine,” he sighs. “But if your father wants my head on a spear, it’s your fault.”

  He steps out of the way and my heart leaps into my throat. The doors look bigger and more menacing than I remember. There’s no telling how many nobles are meeting with my father, but I imagine a handful of men from the local villages huddled around the throne.

  My confidence wanes, but I quickly remember why I’m here, why I risked so much by revealing my relationship with Darsan to Lizette.

  I’m betrothed to the prince of Ulleh, our rival kingdom, and in a week’s time, I’ll be carted away to my wedding.

  I can’t let that happen.

  Honestly, I’d rather be dead than married to a disgusting beast. If my father won’t change his mind, maybe death is a viable alternative after all.

  With a deep breath, I march toward the doors with my head held high and shove them open before charging inside.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Irissa

  The throne room has lost a lot of its grandeur over the last few years. Unnecessary luxuries, like ornate tables and chairs, were sold to recuperate the money the kingdom is hemorrhaging, but the bones of what the room once was are still there.

  Evenly spaced pillars and burgundy tapestries line the walls of the long, narrow space, and a gold chandelier glitters overhead, marking the center. Unlike the rugs withering away in the halls, the rarely-used floral rug running the length of this hall is still plush underfoot.

  My father is seated in a shining gold throne on a dais at the end of the room, flanked on either side by guards wearing armor identical to Darsan. A modest group of people crowds around him. A few men are poised in front to voice their concerns, but most stand off to either side, waiting their turn to speak. When the doors clack against the doorframe, heads turn in my direction and a rush of whispers ensues, quickly capturing everyone’s attention.

  “It’s the princess,” someone says loudly enough for me to hear.

  I keep my head held high, eyes glued straight ahead, not slowing my pace. I’m halfway across the room before my father’s gaze meets mine. His dark brows droop over his cold, dark eyes, and I can already tell the odds aren’t in my favor as his lips curl downward. A gold crown encrusted with fat, burgundy gems sits atop a mop of shoulder-length, brown hair.

  “You’re interrupting a rather important meeting,” he says, his voice echoing through the room, even though he doesn’t raise it.

  “My apologies,” I say, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “This is an important matter that couldn’t wait.”

  I stop behind the villagers, my arms crossed tightly over my chest as hatred seeps out of my pores. It’s oozing from my body, spilling onto the floor, and I have no intention to stop it. He deserves every one of the words poised on my tongue like daggers, ready to be set free.

  While his eyes bore into me, he’s silent, and I wonder if he’s going to accept my challenge, or if the guards will drag me fro
m the hall. I’m ready for either, but I won’t leave without the last word.

  “How could you do this to me?” I yell, even though there’s no reason to. Everyone in the hall is dead silent, and we’re only a few feet apart. “How could you betroth me to someone so vile, and why did I have to hear about it from Lizette?”

  A squeak behind me tells me Liz finally caught up. She’s shocked I brought her into this.

  “Because it’s what’s best for the kingdom,” he states. “Now, be gone until this meeting concludes or—”

  “Or what, father?” My voice pierces through the hall. “Are you going to lock me in my room? Are you going to kill me? Well, joke’s on you, you’ve already signed my death sentence. If you kill me now, you’ll only be sparing me a few days of torture.”

  My father leans back in the throne and rubs his chin with his fingertips. I expected him to lose his cool, yell at me, something, but the way he seems so collected irks me. He’s listening without hearing, and it makes me want to scream louder.

  “Are you not going to own up to it and tell everyone what you’ve done? How you’ve handed me over to monsters?”

  “I’ve done what I must to protect this kingdom,” he says, dropping his hand to the arm of the throne and leaning forward, like he might stand at any moment.

  In my peripheral vision, several of the villagers flatten themselves closer toward the wall. I don’t blame them. Beneath the adrenaline fueling my courage, the distinct tickle of fear zips up my back. I might be a princess, but I’m hardly treated like one. I might as well be a commoner for how I’m excluded from decisions involving my life and forced to play a role I don’t want.