Page 4 of Their Lethal Pet
It could all be a trick. A lie. A way to seduce me into volunteering for Monsters Night. But what choice do I have? Serapina is my sister. She’s all I have left in this world. And she’s out there somewhere, waiting for me.
I wrongly assumed she’d been captured. Claimed. No longer of this earth.
I wallowed. Cried. Mourned the loss of my younger sister, the last remaining member of my family.
Then her note appeared, inspiring renewed hope. It also left behind a taste of guilt. I’d given up on her. How could I? I knew better. If anyone could survive in this cruel world, it was Serapina.
I have to find her.
And if it all ends up being a hoax, then I’ll fight until my dying breath. Slay every beast in my path.Refuseto submit.
This dress will look amazing covered in monster blood,I think, eyeing myself once more.Streaks of black and red marring the too-white fabric. Hmm.
Every year, new dresses appear for the women. Always white. Always bridal. The men are given tuxedos. It’s like a fucking wedding, only none of us willingly walk down the aisle.
Well. Almost none of us.
I volunteer,I muse darkly.Take me to Monster City. Let those creatures try to mate me. They’ll soon learn I’m not worth the effort.
Or that’s the plan, anyway.
Fight. Run. Hide.Look for an old map.
Iwillsurvive. And I’ll find my sister. There is no other option.
Because I can’t stay here.
The men are starting to look my way with a little too much interest. I’m two-and-twenty now, the perfect age forbreeding.
I have no parents to guard my virtue.
No older brother to ensure I’m not taken against my will.
The Village Protectors—a false title for the humans in charge of maintaining order in our mountain settlement—won’t step in to intervene.
I’m alone.
Vulnerable.
And, unfortunately, my rebellious behavior over the last year only seems to have inspired more intrigue.
The men over five-and-thirty are eligible to start a family, and most of those men select women around my age to be their wives.
There’s a whole process involved, one that basically removes the woman from the Day of the Choosing selection pool—if the proposal is approved, anyway.
And given that everyone between the ages of eight-and-ten and five-and-thirty are required to enter, a potential marital agreement is favorable to some.
But it does not appeal to me.
Because I don’t want a husband.
Yet, for whatever reason, that seems to make me more attractive to some of these older men.
Just like Sage,I think, wincing. She’s just as defenseless as me, perhaps even more so.
I close my eyes, my body vibrating with nerves as I picture Sage next door.Taking care of her mother. Preparing for today’s ceremony. Hoping and praying that she survives this year’s Choosing.
She’s all her mother has left. If she’s selected…
