The Alpha was finally awake.
Della stepped back as Rowan approached him, still staring in complete awe.
"Alpha," He went down on one knee, lowering his head.
Malachi didn’t say anything at first, his gaze falling on Della first. She was right in his line of sight, and she noticed how he seemed irritated by it and quickly backed away, out of eyeshot.
"What happened?" Malachi asked, trying to sit up.
Della reacted instantly, about to tell him he shouldn’t move just yet. But she held back her tongue and watched him struggle to sit up. She could feel his pain still flowing through the bond, and rolled her eyes.
Good for him. He deserved every atom of it.
"You were... exposed to Moonfire," Rowan replied.
At that moment, the memories came back rushing to Malachi.
The Moonfire Wolf trapped down there.
The reaction after Della touched it.
His gaze snapped to her again, and the intensity it came with had her wishing she could melt into the wall. Although the irritation was there, she could also feel something like... confusion from him.
Then, suspicion.
"I see," Malachi only said, then his eyes scanned the whole falling especially on the scattered medical items everywhere, "Veinseer Moira, you must have spent all day trying to help me," He paused, "Thank you,"
Della’s eyes almost popped out of her eyes. Did he just...say thank you?!
"The honour is all mine, Alpha," Moira replied, then she half-rolled her eyes at her daughter and continued, "But...I wasn’t the one who cured you,"
"Who else?"
Everyone in the room slowly turned to Della, and she was suddenly pulled back into the spotlight she had stepped away from.
Malachi tilted his head a bit, then looked back at Moira, "Explain," He demanded.
"I did everything I could, but your condition wasn’t improving. Then, she suggested something... something I never thought of, and well, she prepared it, gave you to drink and it worked. You seem to be getting better now,"
Malachi looked at Della again, looking even more confused than before. It was more like he couldn’t believe what he had been told, and Della felt the irritation lessening a bit.
"She isn’t a healer," He suddenly said.
Everyone nodded, but Della only felt like throwing something at his head.
"But...she helped, like you said," Malachi added, and the room froze.
Did he just...defend her? Seems like the world might just be coming to an end. It sounded utterly unbelievable, and the initial excitement turned into Della secretly rolling her eyes.
"Alpha," Rowan said, "Moonfire is extremely difficult to come across. Where, or who might have attacked you with Moonfire?!"
Malachi didn’t answer, instead he looked at Della first as though something important was written on her face. He knew Rowan would have interrogated her about this, since there were Moonfire burns on his skin. Which also means, she might have said something.
Something she shouldn’t say.
"Unfortunately, Rowan," Malachi replied calmly, his heart beating steadily, "I didn’t see. The culprit was strong and smart about it,"
Della immediately realised Malachi was protecting the secret, which means the thing underground was important enough that even his own Beta doesn’t know. Now they’re both trapped with knowledge neither can reveal.
Good thing she had managed to keep her mouth shut about it.
"And the Culprit is standing right here with us!" Selene roared, suddenly barging into the room with eyes spitting out fire.
"Ha!" Moira spat too, "I knew she was suspicious!!"
"Alpha!" Selene cried, and rushed over to his side. She fell on both knees, her eyes stained with unshed tears, "I saw them bringing you in last night, and I’ve been so worried about you. Thank the Moon Goddess you’re alright," She sniffed.
Della couldn’t tell if it was real or fake, and suddenly, the irritation she felt from Malachi vanished into something...calm and peaceful.
She blinked, wondering if he’d hunch was right. Does the Alpha... actually have a soft side for Selene? But he brushed her off the last time, didn’t he?!
"You worry too much," He said to her, rather softly and Della’s hand turned into a fist.
She wasn’t jealous, never. She was just...
Oh what the hell, she was jealous!! Not because she wanted to be, but because the mate bond was tugging and pulling. Seeing him speak to Selene the way he never spoke to her caused unnecessary hurt in her chest.
"Alpha," Selene continued, "I’m so glad you’re alright, but I’m afraid for you. After what has happened, it’s not right to keep her anywhere close to you!" Selene pointed again at Della, "I mean, she’s the traitor who tried to kill everybody during a wedding, and I know she tried to kill you again with Moonfire outside of these walls! Please, get rid of her. Hang her body, or feed her to the hounds, or rip off two of her limbs and let her live the rest of her life in solitude and pain,"
"Selene," Malachi stated, and she quieted.
Della didn’t panic then, because she knew Malachi already knew the truth. Selene wouldn’t have her way this time.
"Lady Selene is right, Alpha," Moira added, "The Rotblood is a core suspect in this case, and she needs to be detained and interrogated. We cannot have someone who poses as a threat to this kingdom running loose,"
Again, Della told herself there was no reason to panic now. Malachi knew the truth. He wouldn’t go ahead with what they’ve said, or even punish her.
Meanwhile, Malachi’s gaze remained unreadable as it swept across the room before finally settling on her.
The mate bond stirred, and she could feel him calculating and thinking. It was the cold, irritating kind he always seemed to reserve especially for her.
"She will not be detained." He finally spoke, and relief hit Della so suddenly she almost hated herself for it.
Unfortunately, it lasted less than a second.
"She will return to her duties immediately."
Della blinked. What did he just say?
She blinked again, and tried to brush it off. Surely she had heard wrong.
The room looked equally shocked, and even Selene seemed caught between outrage and disbelief.
"Alpha..." Rowan started carefully.
Malachi leaned back against the pillows, looking exhausted and annoyed by everyone’s existence, "She remains my wife, and my slave," He said. "And slaves work."
Della stared at him. Worked? That was it? That was all he had to say? After everything? After she had practically dragged his unconscious body through the forest while her own body was falling apart? After she had kept his secret? After she had saved his life?
The mate bond flickered again, and more of his irritation seeped in. Her presence in the room seemed to be giving him a headache, and Della nearly laughed.
Of course. Why had she expected anything else?
"Surely, you cannot be serious," Selene said sharply. "Alpha, she is dangerous,"
"Then perhaps dragging stone carts and scrubbing floors will keep her occupied."
Della felt something twist painfully in her chest again, and she couldn’t believe she had ever thought that helping him might change something. The Moon Goddess must have been laughing at her right now.
"You are dismissing this?" Selene pushed.
"No." Malachi’s voice remained calm, "Increase her work assignments."
Della’s fingers slowly curled into fists.
Oh, wonderful!
Not only was she not being thanked, but she was being rewarded with more work.
"You..." The words almost escaped before she caught them, and Malachi’s dangerous eyes immediately shifted toward her. They were filled with a lethal kind of warning, the kind that reminded her exactly why she hated him and she swallowed the rest of the sentence.
Unfortunately, the mate bond still carried enough emotion for him to know exactly what she was feeling.
Fury.
Betrayal.
Hurt.
And apparently he didn’t care.
Not even a little.
"If there are no further concerns," Malachi continued, "I would like to rest."
The dismissal was obvious, and Rowan immediately bowed his head.
Moira looked dissatisfied, and Selene looked murderous.
"Get out." He suddenly dismissed, and Della looked up. He didn’t need to look at her for her to know he was referring to her.
Something burned behind Della’s eyes, and she fought back the tears from gathering.
Crying never fixed anything and it never saved anyone, yet she could feel the tears trying to come anyway. So she lowered her head before anyone could see them.
"Yes, Alpha."
The title tasted bitter.
Then she turned and walked toward the door.
Nobody stopped her.
Nobody thanked her.
Nobody cared.
Cornelia wasn’t speaking anymore, but had a sour expression on her face.
By the time Della reached the hallway outside, the doors had already closed behind her. Thankfully, the corridor was empty and she finally let a single tear slip down her face.
Then, she kept out a short, broken laugh.
Because really...What had she expected?
That Malachi Astridge would suddenly become kind?that he would tell everyone she had saved him? That he would protect her?
The man had literally collared her.
She was an idiot.
A complete idiot.
She could only blame herself for this, because she had chosen not to run when she had the chance to. She had chosen not to abandon him there, and now she regretted it every second of it.
"I should have left you there," She whispered, and the words came out shakier than she intended, "I should have escaped."
The mate bond pulsed faintly, almost like it had heard her.
She ignored it and started limping down the corridor. Then, she paused and looked down at her ankle. It had been properly wrapped with a bandage, and the relief she was feeling from it made her want to cry again.
Whoever had helped her — which she guessed might have been Anne, had done a really great job. So great that she hadn’t even noticed the wound anymore since she woke up, till now.
"How’s the ankle doing?!" Della didn’t need to look to recognise the voice. It was one she had heard almost all her life, and it once lightened the weight off her shoulder.
Now, it only increased it.
"What do you want?!" Della asked with a frown.
"What do I want?!" Beatrice chuckled softly, her leather gown dragging across the stone floor as she walked around Della, mischief and hatred burning in her eyes, "I want a lot of things, Della. But first, I want to see you at your very lowest. Because trust me, I haven’t brought you down completely yet!" She spat.
Really? Being forced to marry the worst man on earth and turning into a slave wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to her?
"And what exactly did I ever do to you, Beatrice?!" Della’s lips shook lightly. A part of her was still finding it hard to believe that the sister she had loved and cherished with all her heart, whom she thought had her back and whom she would gladly sacrifice everything for, was the same person in front of her.
"Your innocence disgusts me, Della," Beatrice shook her head, her eyes still spitting fire, "You always act like you’re the purest thing this world ever had... but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a goddamn Rotblood. Even ordinary wolfless people kneel down thanking the Moon Goddess that they are not YOU,"
Della felt her throat tighten, but she refused to give Beatrice the satisfaction of seeing it, "Finished?" She asked quietly.
Beatrice stared at her for a moment, then laughed. It’s truly baffling how the laugh sounded so different than before. A soft, warm laughter but now it was an evil, vicious one.
"No," Beatrice replied, taking another step closer. "Not even close."
Her gaze slowly travelled over Della’s appearance, lingering on the slave collar around her neck before a smile spread across her face, "I must admit, though, this is better than I imagined."
Della’s jaw clenched.
"Seeing you collared," Beatrice continued, her smile widening, "Seeing you limping around like a stray dog nobody wants, seeing servants look at you with disgust, watching the Rotblood get turned into a slave..." She laughed softly. "It’s beautiful."
Della looked away, and that action only encouraged Beatrice.
"Do you know what everyone has been talking about?" Beatrice asked sweetly. "They were talking about you."
Della said nothing.
"They were wondering how long it would take before Malachi got tired of looking at you and threw you into the dungeons, or even burnt you alive,"
Still nothing.
"They were wondering whether your execution would happen before or after the Sovereign Moon Ceremony."
Della’s fingers slowly tightened into fists.
"And my personal favourite..." Beatrice tilted her head. "They were wondering if Malachi has touched you yet."
Della immediately looked up, and Beatrice’s grin widened, "Oh, there she is."
"You’re disgusting." Della spat.
"No," Beatrice replied. "I’m happily married."
The words landed exactly where she intended, and Della bit her lips so hard blood rolled down her lips.
Beatrice’s expression became almost triumphant, "Do you know what it’s like waking up beside someone who actually wants you?" she asked softly. "Do you know what it’s like having a husband who looks at you and sees something worth protecting?"
Della’s eyes were shaking with fury.
"Because I do." The smile never left Beatrice’s face. "Leopold chose me. Leopold loves me," Beatrice smirked, "Leopold desires me."
"And meanwhile..." Beatrice’s eyes slowly moved toward the slave collar again, "Your own mate can’t stand being in the same room as you."
Della didn’t care, but it still hurts because there was so much truth in it. The mate bond had practically been drowning her in Malachi’s irritation and disgust since he woke up.
"Oh, that one hurt, didn’t it?" Beatrice whispered.
Della sighed, wiping off her lips. She was too exhausted for all this so late in the afternoon, and unfortunately, she still had...a pile of stoke carts waiting for her to move them, and the Workrooms too.
So instead of replying, she continued limping away.
Unfortunately, that turned out to be the wrong thing to do. A sharp pain exploded across her scalp, and her head jerked backward violently as Beatrice had grabbed a fistful of her hair.
"Ah!"
"You don’t walk away from me." Beatrice raged, and a dirty slap followed.
Della’s head was whipped to the side.
"One would think you’re wiser by now, but you aren’t" Beatrice hissed. "Or does slavery make you forgetful?"
"Let go!" Della gritted her teeth.
"Look at you, still trying to preserve some pathetic little piece of pride when everyone around you already knows exactly what you are."
She grabbed Della’s chin and forced her to look at her, "You’re nothing." She spat at her face, "Nothing but a burden, a traitor and the biggest mistake this world has ever seen. You know what the best part is?" Beatrice leaned closer, her voice dropping into a whisper. "Things are only getting started."
Beatrice looked strangely pleased from her last words, as though she knew something, or was waiting for something big to happen.
Finally, Beatrice released her and Della stumbled forward, grabbing the wall for balance.
Her scalp and face burned.
And what little atom of what remained of her dignity like it had been dragged through broken glass.
Beatrice simply smoothed down her gown as though nothing had happened, then she flashed Della a nightmarish smile.
"You should enjoy these next few days before the Ceremony arrives," Beatrice’s eyes glittered with something dangerous, "Then, you’re gonna learn that everything you’ve suffered so far has merely been the beginning."
A cold silence settled between them, then Beatrice turned around and began walking away, her leather gown sweeping across the stone floor behind her.
Halfway down the corridor, she paused. Without turning back, she spoke one final time, "And the next time you try to walk away while I’m speaking to you..." Her voice echoed softly through the hall, "...I’ll remove enough hair to make sure everyone can see where I touched you. And of course...who would believe that the kind, shy and Beautiful Beatrice was the one who laid a hand on you?!" She burst into a hideous, triumphant laughter and Della could only watch her as she left.
Her fingers digging into her skin so hard she punctured it.
.
.
.
As always, Della didn’t get enough sleep. She stayed up most of the night, staring at the ceiling with a thousand thoughts swirling in her head.
Was Lian alright?
Would she ever get another chance to escape?
How was she supposed to keep surviving living here when so many people were out to get her?
What exactly was Beatrice planning to do on the night of the ceremony?
It hurt so much to know that she was useless, despised beyond anything she knew, and that not a single soul ever believed her.
And the ones she thought loved her...were actually after her downfall.
She needed to run away. She couldn’t bear to stay here a second longer, but it wouldn’t be as simple as it was before. The guards had been ordered to put a closer eye on her — she had noticed the way they glanced more at her whenever she walked by.
If she couldn’t leave now, then she would have to find a way to protect herself, especially from whatever disaster Beatrice has planned for her.
It was stupid to even think about it. It was, but what other choice did she have?
She was completely and utterly powerless.
A few days went by, and life got even harder. Dragging piles of stones, trying to avoid and ignore Garett whenever he smirked or touched her appropriately, keeping her head down when she was made to scrub the floors and sort out the mountain of lost, forgotten and unused items in the Workrooms.
And of course, having to avoid Beatrice and Selene. But she knew they would eventually get to her, eventually corner her.
Especially Selene. The She-wolf had yet to do anything particularly evil, but Della had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before she unleashed total hell on her.
Throughout the day, Della has been thinking of how to approach Malachi. Tomorrow was the night of the Sovereign Moon Ceremony, and she couldn’t keep enduring and telling herself everything would go smoothly.
The bad feeling she was getting about that night was only growing stronger by the second, and so, her feet had carried her to the place she thought might be a solution to her problem.
Curse the mate bond.
Why was she standing in front of Malachi’s room? Was she that stupid that she would actually knock on the lion’s den?
She might as well turn back and leave before Malachi realises she was right outside his door.
In that instant, irritation, anger and disgust surged the mate bond and Della groaned internally. The air became slightly charged, and the urge to run away flooded her mind.
Malachi knew she was standing outside.
She trembled slightly, then raised her hand, attempting to knock. Her arm remained suspended for a few seconds, as she debated how bad her back luck might become if she did knock.
He might just throw the door open and snap her neck!
"Demonic arsehole," She murmured under her breath, dropping her hands back to her side.
Because, what was she even thinking coming here?
But still... He was sort of...her only choice.
Her mate.
The door suddenly flew open, and Della froze instantly as hot air slapped her face. She swallowed tightly and looked up, her gaze falling on the man standing in the darkness he called a room and so tall that he had to lean over so the top of the door wouldn’t touch his head.
His eyes resembled shards of ice. His usually tightly packed hair had been let loose a bit, and several strands of them fell down his shoulders. The burns on his body were still visible, making him appear even more rugged and wolfish.
And...he was shirtless.
Della’s eyes dropped to his chest before she knew what she was doing.
OH MY!
She almost licked her lips right there because they darted out between her lips, but she quickly pulled them back in. But of course, the goddamned mate bond would not let her focus on his face properly.
And why on earth did he answer the door shirtless?!
"The more you stare at me like that, the harder it gets for me to resist pulling off my skin," He groaned, almost tiredly.
And that was when she realised that she was the only one who was feeling this way. It was as if the mate bond didn’t have any effect on him in that aspect, because he didn’t seem to be staring at her in that way...
Malachi’s eyes briefly dropped to her lips, so quickly that he might not even have known himself.
And she paused.
Hmm...maybe he wasn’t completely resistant.
"To what do I owe...this?"
He said the word ’this’ like she was a fuckin disease.
"I’m here to report a threat," She stated.
"But you’ve already been reported," He replied.
She wanted to slap him, "Not me! I...," She blew out a sigh, "I’m not gonna say the name because it’s only gonna make it harder for you to believe me, but I think that person is trying to do something terrible tomorrow night during the ceremony, and they want to do it in a way that makes it look like I did it,"
Malachi slowly blinked, like everything she just said had gone through one ear and come out through the other.
"You won’t believe me," She continued, "I’m well aware of that, but I’m still letting you know because if that person’s plan works and I die, or I am sentenced to something worse than death, I want to know that this time, at least I saw it coming and I told you, my mate. That is all, Malachi,"
His eyes slightly narrowed at her.
For a moment neither of them spoke, and Della immediately regretted coming here because that look on his face was the exact same look he wore whenever he was deciding whether something was worth his time or not, and unfortunately she already knew where she ranked on that list.
"Are you finished?" He finally asked.
Della stared at him. She wasn’t the least bit surprised, but at least, it was the Moon Ceremony she was talking about so he should have at least, seemed a little bit concerned, "I just told you someone might be planning something during the Sovereign Moon Ceremony."
"And I listened."
"No, you didn’t."
Malachi arched a brow, "You gave a speech," He corrected. "There is a difference."
Della’s eye twitched, and the urge to throw something at him intensified immediately, "Fine," She snapped. "Believe whatever you want."
She turned to leave.
Or at least she tried to.
Unfortunately, her ankle chose that exact moment to remind her that it still hated her existence, and pain shot through it the moment she pivoted.
Della sucked in a breath, and the man’s gaze briefly dropped toward her injured leg before returning to her face, "I thought the healers treated that."
"They did."
"Then stop limping."
Della stared at him in disbelief, "That’s your advice?"
"It appears effective for everyone else."
She wanted to strangle him.
The mate bond stirred again, carrying something that felt suspiciously like amusement before it vanished so quickly she wasn’t sure she had felt it at all.
Her eyes narrowed at him, "You’re impossible."
"And yet you sought me out,"
Della immediately looked away, probably because she had taken the meaning of his words in two ways.
Seeking him out — coming to his room to tell him about what would happen tomorrow.
Seeking him out — coming to his room, and seeing him... like this. Unfortunately, that second interpretation of hers only made things worse because now she was suddenly aware of entirely different things.
Like the fact that the room behind him was warm.
Like the fact that she could smell him, like she could literally smell him, and it was the most intoxicating scent ever.
Moonlit frost and Ash.
Moon Goddess help her. This was awful.
Absolutely awful.
She blamed nothing else, but the bond. The stupid, horrible, cursed bond. Because there was no other explanation for why her heart had suddenly started behaving strangely.
Malachi seemed to notice her discomfort immediately, and his eyes lingered on her face.
Then her face again.
Then her face a third time.
As though he was deliberately refusing to look anywhere else.
Which was strange.
Very strange.
Because for a man who constantly acted like she was the greatest inconvenience of his life, he seemed oddly aware of her lately.
Della swallowed, and the movement caught his attention.
His gaze flickered briefly downward, but only for a very brief second.
But Della saw it.
And judging from the way irritation immediately surged through the bond afterward, Malachi had realized it too.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Her lips twitched.
"What’s funny?" He asked.
"Nothing."
His eyes narrowed further. Why was he so interested this time? "Moonfire,"
"Nothing." She repeated.
Unfortunately for her, the tiny smile refused to disappear, and a muscle ticked in Malachi’s jaw.
The bond pulsed again.
Irritation.
Annoyance.
Something else.
Something far more dangerous hiding beneath both.
Della suddenly found herself very interested in the stone floor, because looking at him felt increasingly like a bad idea.
A very bad idea.
The silence stretched between them, the Malachi turned away.
"I do not believe you." He finally broke the awkward silence he’s ever had in his life.
Della looked up again.
"There it is."
"There what is?" She asked.
"The reason you came." His voice remained calm, "You wanted my attention,"
Della blinked, and then she burst into laughter. The sound escaped before she could stop it, and his expression darkened instantly.
"Oh, you’re serious." She arched a brow.
"I am." He was glaring coldly again.
She laughed harder, then said, "Malachi, if I wanted attention, trust me, yours would be the last attention I’d choose."
The mate bond jolted, and something hot flashed through it but it was gone before she could identify it.
"My mistake." He suddenly said.
Surprise came first, then she nodded, "It certainly was."
"You merely wandered to my chambers in the middle of the night because you enjoy being insulted."
Della folded her arms, glaring back at him now, "And here I thought I was helping prevent a disaster."
"I have people for that."
"Clearly." The word slipped out.
Malachi’s expression immediately changed again, enough for her to know she had struck something again.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Neither of them spoke for a few seconds, and the corridor suddenly felt much smaller. Even the space between them suddenly felt much shorter, and Della hated how aware she was of it.
Every tiny shift in emotion seemed amplified.
Every glance lingered a second too long, and every breath felt noticeable.
Ridiculous.
Completely ridiculous!
Malachi rested one arm against the doorframe, his gaze still fixed on her, "You should leave."
Della immediately nodded, "Agreed."
Neither moved, and her stomach dropped again.
This was absurd. Why the hell wasn’t she moving, and why wasn’t he closing the door?
Why were they both just standing there?
The bond pulsed again, and this time neither irritation nor anger flowed through it.
Only awareness.
Raw awareness.
The kind that made her heart beat a little faster, and made her wish she had never come here at all.
Malachi seemed to reach the same conclusion because his expression hardened almost immediately.
Whatever had been there vanished behind walls of ice.
"You’ve delivered your warning," The coldness and distance was back to his voice, "I’ve heard it."
Della swallowed the strange disappointment that followed, "Fine." She said.
"Fine." He replied.
She turned around and actually managed to walk away this time. Unfortunately, she only made it three steps before his voice stopped her.
"Moonfire."
She froze, then turned back slowly, "What now?"
For a moment he simply looked at her, then his eyes drifted toward her ankle, "The ceremony is tomorrow."
"I know." Della frowned.
His expression became unreadable, and he said quietly, "If you’re right about this threat, then stay where people can see you."
She blinked, "What?"
"So that when something happens, I will know it wasn’t you."
The words annoyed her. But now she knew beneath all the suspicion and distrust, it sounded suspiciously like the closest thing to protection Malachi Astridge was capable of offering.