Chapter 106: A Fatal Misunderstanding

The Hall of Ashes had never been this loud.

"How many more times are you going to repeat yourselves?" Malachi’s voice cracked through the chamber.

The Elders had all fell silent.

He stood at the head of the long black table, both hands planted against its surface, his head lowered as he fought to regain control of himself, "You have summoned me here every damn day for the same conversation."

"Alpha—"

"Don’t." The single word made the Elder stop.

Malachi slowly lifted his head, and the look in his eyes had changed.

The usual cold gold had darkened into something far more dangerous, his pupils narrowing as whatever beast now resided beneath his skin pushed against the fragile restraints of his control.

"You want me to go after Della."

Silence.

"You want me to hunt her down because she’s an awakened Rotblood. You want me to put a blade through her heart, and present her corpse to the council so all of you can sleep peacefully at night."

Elder Ravaryn drew in a breath, his staff tapping against the ground once, "She is a threat to every Pack—"

"I heard you!"

The windows rattled, and several Elders flinched.

A low, animalistic growl rolled from somewhere deep inside Malachi’s chest, and the candles surrounding the chamber flickered violently.

"Do you think I don’t understand what she is?" He demanded. "Do you think I’ve forgotten what happened? Or that I don’t know exactly what you’re asking of me?"

The oldest Elder slowly leaned back, careful not to speak another word to an outraged Malachi.

The doors slammed open before anyone could say another word, and Malachi stormed out. The enormous doors crashed shut behind him, leaving the council in stunned silence.

He walked down the corridor without slowing, his boots striking hard against the stone.

He needed air and distance.

Anything that would keep him from returning and tearing the entire council chamber apart.

Then he reached the end of the corridor, and found someone was waiting there.

Cassian.

His arms were folded across his chest, his back resting casually against the stone wall. He looked entirely too calm.

"Rough meeting?"

"Out of my way!"

Cassian’s eyes briefly travelled over Malachi’s face, taking in the lingering darkness in his eyes, "That bad, huh?"

Malachi stared at him, and Cassian’s amusement disappeared, "All right, but before I get out of your way, I would like to thank you for your services,"

Malachi eyed him, "What?"

"You act like you do not care, but you do,"

"Choose your next words carefully!!"

"I am." Cassian pushed himself away from the wall. "I’m thanking you."

"For what?"

"Your services."

Malachi stared at him, and Cassian’s amusement returned faintly. "You sent guards after her."

The silence that followed was brief, but it was enough.

"Don’t look so surprised."

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Of course you don’t." Cassian folded his arms again, studying him. "I’ve known you long enough to recognize when you’re lying."

"You know nothing about me."

"I was once your best friend, Malachi. I know everything about you,"

"The hell you don’t! I’m not the same man I was years ago!"

"Doesn’t change the fact that you sent guards to protect her,"

Malachi’s expression hardened, "I sent them to ensure she wasn’t killed before I decided what to do with her."

"That’s an interesting distinction."

"It’s the truth."

"Whatever helps you sleep."

Malachi stepped toward him, and Cassian’s posture changed immediately, "Careful."

"Did you really just step in my way to irritate me?"

"No." Cassian’s voice became quieter. "I came here because I’ve been watching you tear yourself apart over this woman, and I wanted to know how long you’re planning to keep pretending you don’t care."

"You have no idea what you’re talking about."

"Then why did you send guards?"

Malachi didn’t answer.

"Why did you send them instead of hunters?"

Still nothing.

"Why did you make sure they stayed close enough to intervene if she was attacked?"

Malachi’s nostrils flared.

"Exactly."

"Get out of my way."

"There’s something else."

Malachi stopped, and Cassian hesitated.

He wasn’t sure how much he should say about it, but he’d concluded that it was wise enough to say this since he was now sure that Malachi...did care.

He’d only recently learned about Della’s condition before Malachi rejected her, and he’d assumed Malachi already knew. Surely the Alpha would have discovered something so significant.

"She’s not alone anymore."

Malachi’s brows furrowed.

"Get to the point!"

"You’re really going to make me say it?"

"Say what?"

"The pregnancy," Cassian whispered.

Malachi stopped breathing.

Not metaphorically...His lungs simply...forgot.

The corridor suddenly seemed too narrow and too hot. His eyes locked onto Cassian’s face, and Cassian didn’t notice the way his entire body had gone rigid.

Instead, he continued, "That’s what I was trying to tell you."

Malachi’s voice came out barely audible, "Tell me what?"

"That things are different now."

"What things?"

"Her situation."

Malachi’s heart slammed against his ribs.

Della.

Pregnant.

Cassian knew.

And suddenly that memory returned.

Della standing with Cassian.

His hands cupping her face. The way he had looked at her as he’d leaned down to kiss her.

Malachi felt his stomach twisting horribly, "How long?"

"What?" Cassian blinked.

"How long has she been pregnant?"

Cassian’s brow furrowed, "I don’t know exactly."

"You don’t know?" Malachi’s eyes went black.

"No."

"Then how do you know she’s pregnant?"

Cassian stared at him for several seconds, then realization almost dawned.

Almost. But it didn’t quite.

"Because i was close to her and the signs were very obvious,"

Malachi suddenly grabbed Cassian by the front of his shirt, and slammed his back into the stone wall, "Who is the father?" He growled.

Cassian went completely still, "What?"

Malachi’s grip tightened, and the sound of fabric straining beneath his fists echoed through the corridor, "You heard me."

"I don’t know." Cassian’s confusion was genuine.

Malachi’s face changed, and something shattered behind his eyes, "You don’t know." He still looked suspicious.

"I just told you I don’t—"

"Then why are you talking to me about her child?"

"Because—"

"Because what?" His voice cracked through the corridor, and Cassian just stared at him.

Malachi looked like a man standing at the edge of something catastrophic, "You think I don’t know what I saw?"

"Saw what?"

"That night."

The words landed differently, and Cassian’s expression changed. Malachi’s grip loosened for half a second before tightening again.

"You and her."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You think I didn’t see how close you were? And you just admitted that you were close to her!"

Cassian’s eyes widened, finally understanding what Malachi was referring to.

The misunderstanding.

That damned moment.

"You thought—"

"Don’t."

"You actually thought Della and I—"

Malachi shoved him harder against the wall, and Cassian’s head knocked against the stone.

"I said don’t." Malachi’s tone was menacing.

Cassian stared at him. Then, unbelievably, he almost laughed, "Trust me, I’m trying to understand how your brain arrived at this conclusion."

"Then enlighten me!"

"About that night?"

Cassian’s gaze dropped briefly to Malachi’s fist still twisted into his shirt before returning to his face, "Fine."

Malachi waited.

Cassian exhaled slowly. "I shouldn’t have been that close to her."

Something inside Malachi tightened.

There it was.

Not a denial.

Not nothing happened.

His fingers curled tighter into the fabric. Cassian continued, quieter now, "I made a mistake."

Malachi’s eyes darkened, "What kind of mistake?"

Cassian’s mouth flattened. For once, the usual amusement was completely gone from his face, "One I shouldn’t have made with her."

Malachi stared at him.

Cassian wasn’t saying it.

But he wasn’t exactly denying it either.

Cassian immediately seemed to realize how his words sounded, but instead of correcting himself, he only rubbed his jaw, "That’s not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

Cassian looked at him for several seconds, then he said, "I mean that whatever has been going on between me and Della is between me and Della. She’s a really wonderful person to be around. Moreover, you have nothing to worry about. That woman is as loyal—"

Malachi probably didn’t hear the rest because his heart dropped somewhere along the line.

Between me and Della.

There!

He slowly released Cassian’s shirt, both hands falling to his sides.

Cassian straightened it, watching him carefully.

"She...is pregnant," Malachi said, mostly to himself. Like he was finally understanding it for the first time.

Cassian’s brows pulled together, "Yes."

Malachi’s gaze snapped toward him.

The answer had come too easily.

Too naturally.

He stared at Cassian, suddenly seeing every detail he’d previously ignored—the guilt in his expression, his refusal to properly explain that night, the fact that he’d been close enough to recognize Della’s pregnancy before anyone else had apparently known.

And that child...

"How convenient." Malachi’s hand turned into fists.

"What?" Cassian frowned.

"Nothing."

"No. What the hell does that mean?"

Malachi stepped away from him, but Cassian caught him arm, "Malachi."

Malachi ripped himself free.

Cassian stared at him, genuinely confused now, for Malachi’s face had become terrifyingly calm.

He’d spent weeks telling himself that Della was his responsibility because of the child, that perhaps fate had tied them together whether he wanted it or not.

But if Cassian was the man she’d chosen—or if some other man had been there before him—then what exactly was Malachi protecting?

A Rotblood.

A woman who had never belonged to him.

And a child that might not even be his.

The thought should have brought relief. Instead, it felt like something had been ripped straight out of his chest.

Cassian took a step toward him, "I think you’ve completely misunderstood me."

"Have I?" Malachi’s eyes flashed.

"Yes."

"Then perhaps you should’ve chosen your words more carefully."

Cassian’s expression hardened. "You were the one who asked."

"And you answered."

Malachi turned away.

"Malachi—"

"Find someone else to protect her."

Cassian went still, listening as Malachi’s footsteps echoed unusually loudly down the corridor till it was completely home.

"Well, damn!" Cassian groaned, rubbing his forehead, "What the hell have I done?"