WARNING!!!
This Chapter contains mature contents and scenes.
Della felt like she had been sucked into another world, where miracles do happen. She’d thought about Malachi actually consummating the marriage once in the past, but the thought was so stupid and uncomfortable that she had shoved it away.
Malachi wasn’t attracted to her that way.
She wasn’t his wife, she was his slave.
The Mate bond is just a big, annoying constant pull between them that they wanted to get rid of, especially Della.
But right now, as she melted into his arm — or rather, tensed up the longer his face remained in her neck, she wondered a lot of things. Was he also that vulnerable to the pull? Or was it just worse because...he didn’t have a wolf? No, it was supposed to be the other way around. He’s not supposed to feel the mate bond so much since he is detached from his wolf.
But his case... might be more complex than she thought.
He suddenly murmured something into her neck, then he inhaled again. Della couldn’t explain what was happening to her, since she’d never felt like this before, but her body was... reacting in ways that were quite embarrassing.
She voluntarily squeezed her legs and eyes shut, hoping it would all stop. His grip around her body tightened, pulling her even deeper into the hug and this time, she prayed the growing ache around her nipples would stop!
"Malachi," She mumbled, hoping that would make him stop before this whole...thing spiralled out of control. But he didn’t seem to be listening, and his hand on her back was beginning...to move lower.
Della held her breath, "Malachi," Her body tensed even further.
He grabbed her derrière, and a feeling too good to be described shot up her spine. At the same time, she felt a painful pressure down in her neck and it took her another second to understand that he was biting her.
His large hand remained clasped around her backside as he hit a little harder, and she let out a soft groan.
A sharp knock suddenly echoed through the room, and both of them froze. Another knock followed.
"Alpha." Rowan’s voice came from outside.
The single word was enough, because reality crashed back into the room.
The investigation.
The banner.
Cassian.
Selene.
Beatrice.
Everything waiting beyond that door.
And just like that, the strange softness of the morning vanished.
Malachi’s grip on her backside released, and his canines drew away from her neck softly. As he pulled away, his gaze lingered on Della for one brief moment and something...moved quietly through the bond.
Affection? Longing? Regret? Embarrassment?
She wasn’t sure. He was trying to hide it.
Then, he stood up from the bed and threw his furry coat over his broad shoulders.
Della felt awkward lying on such a big bed alone, and also jumped down. She had forgotten about her ankle till she took a step forward and remembered.
There was no pain... just a tight pressure.
Weird.
She looked down and saw that her leg had been wrapped again. And the pain had greatly subsided. In fact...she felt almost no pain.
When she had fallen asleep last night, this hadn’t been there and she didn’t view Malachi as someone who would let anyone into his room.
Which meant...he had done this on his own.
The mate bond cheered, but she discarded the feeling. Healing her leg doesn’t suddenly dispel everything he’s done to her so far.
She moved back to her little bedding on the other side of the room, keeping her eyes everywhere but the man tying up his hair.
The burn from the bite remained, and she could still feel the ghost of his palm around her backside. She had already forgotten how it felt without his touch.
The cursed mate bond!!
"Leave for your duties, as always," He said as he began walking toward the door, "Rowan will come and get you by the end of the day,"
Della paused. After everything that happened last night, he still wants her to leave the room?
"But...,"
"But what?"
She frowned. He wouldn’t even care.
His tone became a tad softer, "But what, Moonfire?"
She looked at him for a second, "Everyone still thinks...I’m guilty," She swallowed and looked at him, wanting to add the words ’Including you’ but decided it was best not to, "And they would treat me even worse and call me names out there,"
"And you think staying in here would change how they look at you?" He glanced back at her, his eyes serious but subtly warm, "The first step to proving your innocence...is to not hide, Moonfire. Let them see you, let them say what they have to. After all, innocent or guilty... people would still talk,"
Della frowned at him.
Easy for him to say when he wasn’t the one in her shoes.
"The Pack knows you haven’t been proclaimed guilty yet. They’ll look at you, and they’ll point and they’ll talk and insult. But...that’s as far as it goes,"
"Aren’t you...gonna protect me from the talk and insult?"
He turned and looked at her completely. She looked so small and fragile seated there, staring up at him with her large, trembling eyes.
"No, I’m not going to protect you from words,"
Her frown grew deeper.
"It’s only when they touch you that it then concerns me," His eyes grew darker suddenly, "They will answer to me once they do. You can survive the rest,"
"That’s easy for you to say," Her brows furrowed.
"No," He said quietly, "It isn’t,"
The mate bond carried another wave of tiredness, and she instantly remembered his condition. His... Wolfless condition.
And Katherine.
"People have been trying to decide who I am for a very long time, Moonfire," His voice was low, "If you spend your life trying to stop them, you’ll never have time to become anything else."
Della went still.
Moon Goddess! Since when did he say things like that?
Malachi seemed to realise he’d spoken too much because his expression immediately hardened again, "Besides..."
And there it was.
The Alpha.
The arrogance.
The infuriating confidence.
"If anyone is foolish enough to attack you after my public announcement yesterday..." His eyes narrowed slightly, "I would appreciate the opportunity to make an example out of them."
Della stared, then she snorted, then she laughed.
And to her complete shock, Malachi’s mouth also twitched.
Then he opened the door.
"Get out."
There he is.
"You were being almost tolerable for a second."
"Leave before I recover."
"You’re definitely the worst mate in existence."
"A title I intend to keep."
And just before she crossed the doorway, he spoke again so quietly she almost missed it, "I know."
Della froze, and her heart skipped, "Know what?"
Malachi finally glanced over his shoulder, "Just know...that I know,"
.
.
.
What did he know?!
What did he know?!
What did he know?!
Della has asked herself this question over a hundred times as she hauled the crates of stones across the field. She was so caught up in her thoughts and this particular question that she finished rather quickly today, as though she had manifested some decent level of wolf strength in the middle of it.
Every now and then, the bite would ache and she would be reminded of their encounter this morning. Thankfully, it had healed rather fast and had become almost unnoticeable. Unless someone came too close, which no one in their right mind would.
Garrett quietly watched her from the other side while leaning on the fence, and she felt his disgusting gaze but kept quiet about it.
If he wanted to stare, let him stare.
She had enough problems.
By the time it was past noon, most of the workers had left and she was also done with hers.
Then, Della grabbed one of the empty baskets and headed toward the small storage house near the far edge of the farm. It was little more than a wooden structure built beside the tool sheds. Workers stored ropes, buckets, feed sacks, and broken equipment inside.
And since everyone was gone, it was the perfect time to drop her basket too. The usual smell of old wood and dried hay greeted her as she stepped in, and she set the basket down and leaned against the wall.
The cool shade immediately felt better than the blazing sun outside and her eyes fluttered closed.
It felt nice.
Just for a second.
Then the door opened, and Della’s eyes snapped open.
A figure stepped inside, and the door closed behind him. Her stomach dropped instantly.
Garrett.
What was he doing here?!
He looked at him with the same nasty, disgusting smile he always flashed at her when no one else was looking.
"What do you want?" She asked.
Garrett didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his eyes flickered toward the tiny window before returning to her as if checking whether anyone could see them.
That alone made every nerve in Della’s body tense.
"I’ve been trying to talk to you all day." He replied and took a step closer.
She instantly stepped back, "We can talk outside,"
"No," He shook his head and flashed another smile with a set of dirty-looking teeth, "It has to be in here,"
Her breathing hitched and she grabbed the nearest thing she could find — a rake.
"Think that would do anything?" He started moving closer, and her grip tightened.
"Stay away from me!"
"I tapped that ass once, little slave," He murmured as he grabbed the rake, yanking it out of her grip and tossing it to the other side of the room.
The next second, he had his body pressed against her back with both hands pinned behind her.
"No!" She cried as he grabbed her once again, squeezing so hard that tears stung her eyes.
"...and I’ve been dying to go further," He whispered into her ear and pressed himself on her back.
She felt something hard poking against her and tried to scream but he suddenly twisted one arm and she yelped instead. Then, he pushed her to the nearest wall and pressed her face on it, hard.
"I’ll rip your arms off if you scream, and no one would even spare you a glance," He whispered into her ear, the threat evident in his voice, "Because that’s what you are, little slave." He gripped her waist this time and pressed her harder onto him, "You’re a rotblood, and no one likes you. No one can tolerate your presence,"
His hand rode up her body, and she let out a scream again, but he twisted her wrist again, "So you should be goddamn grateful that the Moon Goddess sent someone like me to you!" He grabbed her breasts and kneaded them roughly, "Someone who is willing...to make you feel... something I’m sure your body has been dying to experience," He bit and nibbled on her ears.
Della’s stomach kept churning uncomfortably. She was so scared to do anything and anytime she tried to scream, he would twist even harder.
Moreover, was screaming even going to help? They would end up pointing fingers at her anyway!
’It’s only when they touch you that it then concerns me,’
Malachi’s words came back to her at that moment. It was the...safest choice. To tell him, to let him know somehow.
But right now, they were too far from each other to tell what the other was feeling. And there was a chance that even if he knew...he still wouldn’t believe her.
He’s done that more times than she could count. The man had sentenced her to the Iron pits even after she had warned him the night before that someone was plotting against her...how could she trust him??!
He had already made it clear that she was in this pack... strictly to punished and not to be saved...till she took her last breath.
So, what’s the point?!
"You’ve gone quiet, slave," Garrett whispered into her ear, his hand kneading her other breast now.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold the painful tears from coming.
"Are those tears?" He chuckled, and his breath reeked, "Yes! Cry, my little slave. It’s only making me want you more...," He bit her ears harder, and a tear ran down her face.
The hand on her breasts began pulling up her gown, and Della completely lost it. The tears spilled uncontrollably as she fought her hardest against him, "No! No!!" She yelped and cried, but he didn’t stop.
He exposed her thighs and forced them apart.
"Stop... please, I beg you, STOP!!"