Chapter 171: A Beautiful Trap

Chapter

Della was washing herself in a small river now. For the past hour, she’d been killing more rogues gathering closer to the tunnels and lurking around them.

Just like she’d promised Malachi.

In a few days, she would take him to Gideon, and they would merge. Then, she would be out of his life. Completely. Pity that she would never be able to speak to Gideon again after he’s back with his owner.

The blood all over her naked body dissolved and moved along with the flowing river of Nightveil. She washed her short hair till she had gotten every bit of rogue blood out of it.

Once she was clean again, she stepped out of the water and started to put her clothes back on. She’d killed nothing less than fifty rogues — far more than she had expected. It got her wondering just how many they were out there altogether, and if really that woman could tame them.

She’d have to be really screwed in the head to be able to achieve something like that. And deadly.

Della threw on her large cloak and started to head back to the castle. She could see it from here in a distance.

Behind her, she heard the neighing of horses dragging a carriage, and the voice of someone familiar laughing and talking from inside.

Conan.

She would never forget that voice. It was etched into her brain. She would never forget how his hands felt on her body. It was like a tattoo that she couldn’t erase.

He was on his way to IronRidge and was passing through Nightveil. Another few hours and, he would arrive at IronRidge. Since he was coming by himself, he must have accepted the marriage proposal.

Augustus would be thrilled to have him. The marriage could even commence the very next day if they so wished it.

Della’s eyes went colder as she kept walking back. She wondered if Jaime had gotten her little surprise. Evangeline might have succeeded in calming him down, but it wouldn’t end just there. She would make sure no other negotiations went well.

Evangeline would also get what’s coming to her.

Everyone’s turn would come. She would make them lose their minds and lose the one thing they hold in high regard.

Their defeat was inevitable.

Just then, a little boy ran into Della’s leg.

She stopped walking, taking in the noise around her. A few more corners and she would arrive at the marketplace of Nightveil. She absolutely hated marketplaces now.

Slowly, she looked down at the three-year-old cub who had probably snuck away from his parents and had been running around all alone. He’d stumbled back and fallen on his butt from the impact.

The cloak covered most of her face, except her pale lips. Shadows covered the rest of her face. She looked like a dark ghost. She was one.

The little yellow that still remained in her eyes struck the little boy as he stared up at her face. Horror filled his little eyes, and he quickly crawled away from her, dragging himself backwards as fast as he could.

Good. Let him run.

The Della before she died would have reached out for him. Tell him not to be scared. Smile and try to play with him.

He’d probably melt into her. Smile back at her. A cub like him didn’t understand what Rotblood means. All he would see was a kind, beautiful woman that he felt comfortable around.

That Della was unfortunately dead.

She didn’t care if he didn’t know who she was. The impression she was giving him now brought satisfaction to her dead heart. She wanted him to be terrified of her.

And as he kept crawling back, looking like he was about to burst into tears with his fragile eyes and trembling body, her hands twitched by her sides. A subtle reaction from whatever warmth was still left in her.

Asteria was silent too.

By the time Della walked past him, a gentle breeze was passing from the north. It carried her cloak, a bit of her hair, and it felt warm against her cold skin.

The boy stood on both feet now, his eyes stained with tears. He was staring at her, no longer horrified. Instead, he was now holding a small piece of candy in one hand, staring at the figure walking away.

Confused.

He looked down at the candy again and brought it to his lips. Sweet.

He looked up to say ’Thank you’ again, but the road was suddenly empty. She was gone. Only the wind was left.

.

.

.

"Welcome, Alpha Conan!!"

Beatrice sat there, next to her mother, and she looked like a fairy. They’d dressed her up in the best silk, did her hair with little flowers in it and made her look like she’d just stepped out of the most beautiful garden in the world.

All because Conan and his family were here.

And now, they were all seated in the General hall of IronRidge, welcoming the goddamn man with a little feast thrown just for him, and his acceptance to wed her.

Beatrice stared at the elaborate decoration and the food that filled every table in the room. She wanted to turn it all upside down. She wanted to walk out. Instead, she was here with a warm smile on her face staring at the man she would kill.

Behind him walked a younger version of Conan.

No grey hair. Strong, masculine features. Same eye colour. A little taller than his father.

Emmett.

Next to him was his sister. She looked pretty decent, and she wasn’t smiling like the rest of them. In fact, she looked extremely bored.

Finally, someone true to themselves!

"Augustus!!" Conan exclaimed brotherly as he got to the Alpha. Augustus stood up and they shook hands, "It’s an honour to have received your invitation. This alliance would do both of us a great deal of benefit!"

"The honour is all mine," August replied with a firm smile, then he turned to his right where Jaime sat and introduced him to Conan.

Jaime stood up and bowed to the Alpha.

Then, Evangeline was also introduced.

Beatrice held the smile, dreading her turn.

It finally did, and she stood up as her father gestured at her, "And that, is my beloved daughter, Beatrice,"

Everyone turned to her.

"Lady Beatrice," Conan stepped forward and took her hand in his, placing warm kiss on her knuckles.

"Alpha," She returned his greeting with a bow of her own, gently withdrawing her hands before he would probably start licking them.

Conan seemed decent right now. He was staring at her like he would stare at any other female who wanted to marry his son.

Scrutiny. That was normal.

But unfortunately, a devil recognises another. She could see the whore in his eyes. The way his eyes lingered for a second longer on her strawberry-flavoured lips and dipped down to her exposed cleavage.

No one else noticed.

"It’s such a shame your marriage with Alpha Leopold ended," Conan said, feigning concern.

"My sister died. She found a way to pin the blame on me before she did," Beatrice replied softly, tears bubbling in her eyes.

"Still can’t believe Malachi actually developed a soft spot for her," Conan sighed, "Even the greatest of Alphas can be brought so low!"

Emery stepped forward next, looking all confident and powerful, "My lady," He cooed, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

"Sir Emmett," She curtsied gracefully, lowering her eyes shyly away from his.

There was something about the way she did that, about the way she looked back up at him, her brown eyes catching the chandelier’s golden glow in the room that made him unable to look away from her.

She looked beautiful.

She was graceful.

There was something ethereal about her and the way she looked at him.

His heartbeat sped up.

Evangeline glanced at the children, and her lips couldn’t help but twitch. Beatrice has always been good at bewitching men like that. That was the exact same thing she’d done to Leopold the first time they met, and he had fallen head over heels for her.

Emmett leaned even closer to her, and she lowered her eyes again. This time, he gently touched her chin with a finger and lifted her eyes back up to meet his.

He looked enthralled.

"I do not mind if I have my tongue chopped up for this," He whispered, "But Malachi was a fool to have thrown such a woman like you out. And I am the luckiest man alive,"

Evangeline heard them.

She almost burst into laughter. Her lips twitched again, and that was it.

"You flatter me, Sir Emmett," Beatrice whispered back.

"Call me Emmett, my lady," He said.

"I cannot possibly...,"

"I insist,"

Her innocent eyes stared into his eyes, big and shimmery, "If that is the case, Emmett, then I insist you call me Beatrice,"

"Of course," His fingers gently caressed her rosy cheeks and she blushed and dipped her head once again.

"It looks like it’s a match made in heaven!" Augustus’s voice broke out again. He was smiling at what he saw — or just rejoicing at just how smoothly at this was going for him.

"All that’s left is to set a date!" Conan said, then he burst into a small, deep laugh that sounded like genuine happiness.

Beatrice didn’t miss the way his eyes slithered back to her, and paused on her cleavage.

Oh...she was so going to enjoy watching him die!

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