Chapter 153: The Ghost he was afraid to face

Beatrice’s laughter continued, becoming more and more unhinged by the second. Everyone in the Hall of Ashes stared at her as though they were witnessing a woman finally losing whatever remained of her sanity.

"Beatrice..." Leopold looked at his wife in horror, because he genuinely could not believe she was the one laughing like that.

She was usually shivering, smiling, or stroking him lovingly.

Beatrice heard him call her, but she didn’t care.

Her head tilted backward, dark hair spilling over her shoulders as another burst of laughter escaped her lips, "Hahahaha..." She sounded like a certified villainess.

Malachi stared at her, and his red eyes narrowed again. He had a feeling whatever she was about to say, or do, might be nothing compared to all that he’s heard all through the evening.

"I found her, earlier tonight," She said as the laughter finally died down, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, "The fire had already done so much damage to her, and she was crawling helplessly with nowhere to go...so i mercifully sent her somewhere,"

Malachi’s body went rigid with a feeling he couldn’t describe, and his grip slowly loosened around Selene’s neck till the woman fell down, a dirty scowl still on her face.

"W... what?" Malachi cracked out.

Beatrice’s hands motioned at the way she has gripped the handle of the dagger, and then she shoved her fist upward... showing everyone exactly how she had killed her sister.

"One," She counted, shoving her hand up again with a wicked grin on her face.

"Two," She repeated the movement, her eyes dazed with excitement almost as if it was happening all over again, "Three,..."

The room was awfully, tensively silent.

"Four..." Then she looked up at Malachi, "I believe I lost count when I got to twenty, but damn it had felt so good. Her cold blood dried all over my hands, and I never would have washed it off if you didn’t suddenly call for this... meeting, Alpha,"

Malachi didn’t move.

Not even a muscle.

It was as though his body had simply forgotten how, and his eyes remained fixed on Beatrice’s raised fist.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Twenty.

His mind refused to process the numbers.

Della.

Adelaide.

Moonfire.

The woman he had spent months believing was responsible for everything that had gone wrong.

The woman he had allowed them to hurt.

And now Beatrice was standing before him, smiling as she described driving a blade into her. His fingers slowly unclenched, and then they tightened again till his nails were grinding past the palm of his chest and into his bones now.

Blood pooled down his palm, dripping heavily on the ground and around his legs.

He wanted to move. To say something. But he felt like if he took another step forward, he would be crushed.

By everything.

By every single thing that had been revealed in this room tonight.

By the fact that...she might actually be dead. That she had died all alone. That she had gone through those kinds of hell. That...he had contributed to it all...and has watched her suffer and validated it as...

As something she had deserved.

Malachi staggered back, unable to breathe.

He was even afraid to keep listening to their confessions. He’d heard so much that he wished he could peel off his ears and keep them aside.

"Rowan," He finally called, his voice so quiet that no one dared move.

"Yes, Alpha?!"

"Make sure nobody in this room leaves this castle. Take them all to the special dungeons,"

Rowan nodded once, and together with the rest of the guards...they began to sweep everyone in the room.

"There’s one more thing, Malachi." Beatrice said the moment he turned around to leave, making him pause.

At that moment, he just wanted to press both palms over his ears and keep walking.

"The night I returned to Eclipse Crown Pack, I personally stalked the two dead women who were trying to escape. Guess what I found out?"

Malachi remained insanely still.

"That you’ve been keeping the sick kid here at the Pack, and Della couldn’t help herself but to go and visit him,"

There was a small creak by the large door, and Malachi snapped his gaze toward him fast enough to see a shadow that had probably been standing outside there all this time...move.

Gone in the blink of an eye.

"And I may...or may not have tricked one of the maids looking after him and feeding him his daily medicine...that Annelise had changed the mixture a little..."

SHIT!!

Malachi immediately burst into a run, and behind him Beatrice resumed laughing like she was a maniac as the guards surrounded and apprehended them all.

He slammed the door open and his boots thundered against the corridor.

Guards scattered out of his path, startled by the sight of their Alpha sprinting through the castle like a man being chased by death itself.

He didn’t care.

His robes whipped violently behind him, and his chest felt like it had been set on fire.

Maybe it was because all that had been said and revealed in there...was finally being processed in his brain. Maybe it was because all that time, he was still finding it hard to believe it was all true.

His bloodied hand remained clenched at his side, and he ran faster.

And as he did, all he could think about was her.

His Moonfire.

All those times he had hurt her. All those times he had stared at her coldly. All those times her pure, genuine emotions had spilled in through the mate bond...and he never stopped convincing himself that she was guilty...and disgusting.

He imagined her bleeding.

Crying.

Suffering.

Burning.

Stabbed again and again.

Calling for help that never came.

Unable to call for help because she was convinced that not a single person in the world cared.

Her dying alone while believing he had wanted it.

His vision blurred, and then he stumbled around a corner and caught himself against the wall before immediately pushing away again.

He couldn’t stop.

Not now.

Not when there was still someone left who belonged to her.

Lian.

He had promised himself that boy would remain safe.

He had hidden him.

Protected him.

Kept him alive.

But it didn’t justify anything.

And now, someone had dared to touch his medicine.

And as badly as he wanted to go after Della right now, to see if she was somehow... still alive — because the moment they’d revealed her location to him and Cassian had turned to leave, Malachi was a thread’s strength away from following them too.

Every instinct screamed at him to.

His heart was already bleeding to go for her.

But one thing had held him back.

Fear.

Stark, dark, engulfing fear.

Guilt-ridden fear.

One that made him comprehend that if he saw her now — alive or dead — he’d have to face the ghost of every cruelty he’d ever inflicted upon her, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to survive it at all.

The doors to Lian’s chambers finally appeared ahead, and Malachi kept running like he was being chased by hell.

Suddenly, he halted.

He came to a complete stop.

Because the door to the chamber had opened, and a woman had walked out of the room.

A woman carrying a face he knew very well, and eyes he couldn’t recognise anymore.

And in her arms, holding him tightly against her chest, was the lifeless body of her cousin.