Chapter 180: The Doll’s Voice

Beatrice slowly turned around and stared at her bed.

Nothing.

She stood there and began to check everywhere more actively.

Inside the cupboards.

Behind the curtains.

Inside the drawers.

Every corner.

Once she was sure it was all clear, she came back to her bed and lay down.

Then she closed her eyes and recalled what Jaime had said. There was nothing to be scared about. She was stronger than Della’s memories.

The thought calmed her down. It took her back to the night she had stabbed her to the death, to the evening she’d been beaten by the market mob, to the Moonfire incident, and her pounding heart was now slowing.

Better.

Much better.

She had a wedding tomorrow, and a plan to fulfil afterwards. Her mindset needed to be as sharp as ever.

A smile came upon her lips, and then she opened her eyes. Very slowly, the smile started to disappear, and all the blood drained away from her face.

The large doll was back. Standing on its four legs on her bed right next to her. Staring at her with those frighteningly empty eyes.

The warmth in the bed suddenly disappeared and she felt like she was lying on a huge brick of ice. The thing kept staring at her, and she stared back at it. With every minute that passed, she told herself it wasn’t real.

With every minute that passed, she told herself she was just being paranoid and that she should just punch the damn thing off her bed.

With every more minute that passed, she was slowly realising how wrong she was.

The cold was making her freeze. She couldn’t feel her toes anymore. It felt like there was a ghost in the room. But ghosts don’t exist!

Slowly, Beatrice turned her head away from the doll and stared at the other side of the room. She had been caught in the world between terrified and tranced, and she couldn’t handle staring into those eyes for one more second.

And for some reason, her body felt trapped.

She couldn’t move at all. It was like she was frozen to the bed. Only her head could shift.

Her lips parted to scream, but nothing came out. Only cracked, chilly air.

She could still feel the doll’s gaze on her, haunting her mind, staring into the darkest ends of her soul and trying to expose it all to the surface.

"No...," She finally cracked out, mustering all the strength she could find.

She was a goddamn Alpha’s daughter for crying out loud, and if Della’s ghost had decided to haunt her, she would kill her a freaking second time!!

She finally tore her body off the bed and swung her claw to the side to strike the doll, but her hand only came across air.

Quickly, she sat up and looked around frantically. She didn’t even realise how badly she was sweating and breathing.

It was gone again.

"Show yourself!!" She exclaimed angrily, trying to keep the fear out of her voice, "Come on, show yourself! I’m not scared of you!"

She stood up and continued to look around.

"I stabbed you the first time, I broke you the second time. I’ll destroy you again, Della. As many times as I want to!"

Then, her legs struck something behind her, and her entire body went rigid like ice. She did not want to turn around - she was shaking like a leaf already, but the door was a little too far away.

Plus, whatever was behind her was in her path.

Finally, she did.

And it was the goddamn doll again.

The big one.

This time, it wasn’t sitting or standing.

It was rearing. Its straight legs were up and looking like they were about to fall back and slam into her face.

At the same time, a very familiar voice whispered, "I told you to lie, didn’t I?"

And the chills instantly got worse.

Beatrice also reared back in fear, and this time she screamed so loud the whole castle must have heard her. Her butt hit the ground hard, and she crawled away as fast as she could.

Her back slammed into some furniture but she couldn’t care less. She was too overwhelmed with fear, and then curled up in the first corner she could find.

Did the freaking doll really just speak? The voice sounded exactly like Della’s. It must really be possessed by her ghost.

SHIT!!

Was she still being paranoid? Ghosts aren’t real!

Della is dead! Her body is somewhere still rotting.

She kept staring at the unmoving doll again, unable to take her eyes off it this time. She was so scared that once she did, it would instantly cover the distance between them.

Her breath was catching between pants. Her body was trembling and she was really, really hoping that the maids would arrive soon so she could be spared from this bizarre predicament.

.

.

.

Della knew Cassian was already waiting for her before she walked into the chambers. She could hear the soft inhale of air and his quiet footsteps as he walked around the room, admiring the place like he hadn’t been there a thousand times before.

She stepped into the room and took off her cloak. It wasn’t until she was close enough that he finally noticed her and turned around, "You are back," He said.

She didn’t answer at first. Her senses were focused not on him anymore but the pack princess all the way across the castle in her room. She could hear Selene’s restless breathing, her frequent yelling and her scattering things around her room.

She was furious. Has been furious for days now.

Selene felt trapped.

She wanted revenge against Eclipse Crown, but no pack in their right mind would ever agree to work with her on that nonsense. And Cassian didn’t have her back anymore.

She was powerless.

The little she could do was try and find out what Malachi was up to these days with her little spies, and unfortunately for her, Della had dealt with a lot of those... little rats.

"Della?"

She looked at Cassian, "Did you ask me to come to Nightveil so you could come to see me whenever you wanted?"

He was about to reply but she was faster.

"I’m not the person I was before, Cassian. I’m not the woman you helped. I’m not the woman you gave clothes to. I’m not the woman you watched stars with,"

Cassian knew that. But he hated reminding himself.

He could only nod tightly.

"So what exactly are you hoping to achieve?"

"I’m not hoping to achieve anything. I just—" He looked like he had a lot to say, and the way he stared at her would have shaken up the past her. Then, he shook his head once, turned around and headed for the room.

She watched him leave, and then her eyes narrowed.

What did he want to say?!

Then, her eyes took in the luxurious setting of the room again. It belonged to his late mother. That’s why he was so attached. Maybe why he often visited.

But he needed to stop and let her be.

He made the offer. She never begged for it.

And she would never beg for anything ever again.