Chapter 38: The Perfect Lie

"I am responsible for everything."

She did it.

She had confessed.

And there was no going back for her now.

She had started this and she would also finish it. She would take this till the very end of it, because she knew, her downfall would be the beginning of a good life for Lian.

That boy deserved all the joys in the world, and the world would not appreciate him if she was the one still taking care of him. Hence, Alpha Leopold was the best option.

He would be under his protection. He would be looked after by great healers of the pack. That alone, would make her smile in her grave — if she ever got the luxury of having one.

She could still hear her words echoed through the room over and over until they became unbearable, and Malachi never, for a second, took his eyes off the woman.

"Look at me." He finally uttered, his voice quiet.

Della obeyed and looked up at him, bracing herself for what she was about to see. Those blue eyes met hers, and the hatred inside them struck her harder than Leopold’s hands ever had.

"So..." Malachi continued. "You expect me to believe that after insisting on your innocence for days, you suddenly decided to tell the truth?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Della lowered her gaze again, "...Because I got tired."

"Tired?"

"Of lying."

"Liar." He suddenly snapped, surprising even himself.

Della’s heart leapt and she looked up at him again, some fragment of bewilderment and hope shimmering in the depths of her crushed heart.

"If you’ve lied since the Sovereign Moon Ceremony." His expression turned back to stone. "Why stop now?"

Because Lian...

Because I already sold my life.

"Guilt," she whispered instead.

"You possess guilt?"

"I do now."

Malachi studied every tiny movement she made.

Her heartbeat.

Her breathing.

Her scent.

Nothing matched.

Nothing made sense.

She sounded defeated, and she smelled broken. If she really felt guilty all this time, there was supposed to be a scent of relief that was supposed to come after this confession.

"Start from the beginning." He instructed.

"The banner." Della inhaled shakily.

"Yes."

"You said you didn’t touch it."

"I lied."

"How?"

She closed her eyes, "The reinforcement lining."

Cassian, who had just arrived and was now standing by the open doors, narrowed his silver eyes.

"I didn’t tear the cloth itself. The strong wind accomplished that. Instead," Della continued quietly, "I weakened the reinforcement threads holding it together."

"Using what?"

"Moonfire." She didn’t even hesitate for a second, and the temperature inside the room seemed to drop.

Malachi’s eyes darkened vehemently, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep looking directly into those cold, dangerous eyes of his, "Where?"

Silence.

"Answer me."

Her lips quivered softly, both hands on her legs that were tightened into fists, clenching even more than before, "That night."

Everything inside Malachi froze.

He knew exactly what she was talking about. He had passed out that night and had woken up in the Healing wing, cured by her.

"You passed out, remember?" She kept her voice from shaking, but it still did, "So I gathered all the Moonfire I could bring with me. After all, I needed it for the plan I had for the banner,"

Cassian’s brows slowly knitted together.

"Then you planted it along the reinforcement lining,"

"Exactly,"

"You also planted the contaminated fragment."

"...Yes."

"The one discovered near the western gate."

"...Yes."

"No." Cassian spoke this time, and everyone looked toward him, "You found the torn piece. I watched when you picked it up from the ground and realised there were Monkfish particles on it. I saw the genuine surprise in your eyes, little servant," His silver eyes bored into hers.

"

Della’s heart nearly broke.

Don’t...

Please don’t make this harder...

"I went back." She answered smoothly, because on the outside she seemed absolutely emotionless, like nothing was getting to her.

"Explain." Annoyance was beginning to etch on Cassian’s face.

"I planted it first."

"...Then later..." she swallowed, "I returned and pretended to discover it again while escaping,"

"Sounds very convenient. You must be a great actress, little servant," His fists tightened as he continued to look at her.

Why was she doing this? Why was she suddenly... implicating herself like when she was innocent? Also...what are those marks around her neck?

"Cordelia." Malachi spoke this time, and Della’s fingers dug into her knees on hearing his voice again, "Did you kill her?"

"No."

"You didn’t?" He arched a brow.

"I hired someone."

Silence.

Cassian slowly turned toward her, "Who?"

"A werewolf."

"What werewolf?"

"I don’t know his name."

"What did you pay him with?"

She closed her eyes, "...Moonfire." She said, forcing herself to remain calm again, "I exchanged the remaining Moonfire I had with me for Cordelia’s life."

Beatrice almost forgot to breathe. Inside, Joy exploded through her chest.

She had done it.

She actually did it.

Della...

You stupid...

Stupid...

Idiotic girl.

She really took everything.

Yet outside, Beatrice gasped softly, "No..." Her voice trembled, "Della, why would you..."

She looked every bit the horrified sister.

Cassian and Malachi ignored her entirely like she wasn’t even in the room anymore, never for a second, looking away from Della.

"Why did you kill her?!"

"She hated me." Della ground out.

"So did half this Pack."

"She knew things."

"What things?"

"Things she shouldn’t have said, like the fact that she had seen me sneaking into the Workrooms to contaminate the banner with Moonfire. Silly woman...she should have just kept her stupid mouth shut!" Della actually sounded genuinely spiteful right there, "So I repaid her by having her throat cut."

"You knew how he killed her."

"I asked."

"You asked."

"I wanted to make sure he’d actually done it."

Rowan shifted uncomfortably outside. He didn’t like where this was going, or anything he was hearing right now. He’d never liked Della, but he didn’t hate her at the same time, probably because she was the only person...who could somewhat, in the tiniest of ways, make Malachi think twice about something.

Cassian walked into the room, his arms folded, "Wonderful presentation, little servant. You’ve answered every question."

Della said nothing.

"You have explanations prepared."

Still nothing.

"As though..." He tilted his head, "...you’ve rehearsed this."

Her heartbeat stumbled only once, and unfortunately for her, she didn’t have a wolf that would force it steady again, making both Alphas notice.

Yet, she answered gracefully, "I’ve had all day to think."

Malachi’s eyes twitched. Those exact words, Beatrice had said them to him.

The same sentence.

The same calm.

The same rehearsed rhythm.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Yet, the mate bond burned through her with pure hatred. It has been slamming into him without warning ever since she walked into this room, almost as if she had been holding this intensity for a very long time and was just releasing everything tonight.

Della made sure to push every ounce of pain she possessed through it, because it was the only thing she had, apart from her words, that would help her make him believe that she was telling the truth.

She channelled every anger, every spite, every moment that shattered her chest, and poured all those emotions to him again.

The time he had collared her.

That he had sent her out after she had saved him.

The time he had strangled her on the altar.

Every single time he had spoken down at her, looked into her eyes with nothing but a dangerous level of cold, and every time...he had chosen, not to believe her.

She poured it all into the bond until it became impossible to feel anything else, so much that Malachi staggered internally.

This hatred, he had felt something close to it before.

Years ago.

Katherine.

The woman who had smiled, who had stared into his eyes on the sacred altar and sworn to cherish him for the rest of his life, who had blessed him with his baby girl...all while planning to destroy him.

His jaw clenched hard, so hard that blood filled his mouth.

His eyes became glaciers too and whatever confusion had existed, and whatever tiny hesitation burned away beneath the hatred flowing through their bond.

When he finally spoke, there was absolutely no sign of the man who had tucked a blanket over her that morning. There was only the man who was looking down at her on that altar, "I knew it."

Della felt something inside her die, but she swallowed the hurt and pain again, forcing only the hatred through.

"I knew," He repeated coldly, "That a liar remains a liar."

His eyes held nothing now. Nothing except contempt, "You disgust me."

The bond carried every word. Every ounce of his hatred. And Della accepted it. Because if Malachi hated her, then he would never look any deeper than the lies she’d just buried herself beneath.

"Guards!!" Malachi boomed, and two hefty wolves walked into the room.

"Take her down to the prison cells,"

Della hit her lip.

"I’ll come and personally throw her into the rogues pit myself!"