Chapter 42: The Promise that never was

Leopold paced back and forth in his chambers, restless as ever.

He had watched as Della had headed to the interrogation room and had listened to everything that she said from the corridor.

The girl hadn’t even batted an eyelash when she had also slashed her hand open with the knife, allowing her blood to mix with his as it also dripped on the floor.

Silly girl.

Now, Leopold could only hope Malachi would let his wife go.

He kept roaming around the room, looking like he had distraught and out of his mind. Everywhere around him was scattered, and he had growled at every servant that had crossed paths with him today.

Malachi be cursed!!

This was all his fault.

The Rotblood should blame him if she ever finds out, which she probably wouldn’t because Malachi had announced it earlier that at dawn, he would throw her into the rogue’s pit.

Calm, collected footsteps reverberated down the corridor leading to his chambers, and Leopold’s heart slammed against his chest as he ran out of the room.

The hope that had flared in his heart ignited into wildfire when he saw that it was Beatrice, and she smiled the moment she saw him.

That smile lit up his world, and he felt every single weight in his chest dissolve into nothing.

He ran up to her, and she spread her hands wide open as he lifted her in the air and rolled her around.

Beatrice giggled softly, her hands wrapped around his neck as she gazed at him. But behind her soft eyes, there was a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

The man was so in love with her that it was clouding his decisions, and she couldn’t believe he had actually taken her side even if he had an inkling that she was the one responsible.

Truly, love makes you stupid.

Thankfully, she didn’t feel the same.

But it was only right to keep pretending. After all, it made him happy and more possessive, which means she could use him even more.

He lifted her into his arms and carried her inside the room, making sure the door was locked before he sat down with her, caressing her face with both hands, "Are you hurt?"

"Not at all, my love," She also cupped his face, "I owe everything to you,"

"I thought..." His voice cracked unexpectedly. "I thought he was going to keep you there forever."

She smiled gently and brushed her fingers through his hair, "But he didn’t."

"I couldn’t stop imagining..." His grip around her tightened, "You trapped inside that room with him. Every minute felt like torture."

"You worry too much."

"Of course I do." He looked genuinely offended. "You’re my wife."

Beatrice’s smile remained.

Poor fool.

"If something had happened to you..." Leopold swallowed. "I don’t know what I would’ve become."

She cupped his face, pretending to be moved, "Nothing happened."

"Because I couldn’t allow it.

"You really couldn’t."

"I’d burn this entire kingdom down before letting anyone hurt you."

She almost laughed not because it was romantic but because she believed him. The frightening part was that he truly meant every word.

"My hero." She said, as she leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

His wolf practically purred.

They sat together quietly for a while, Beatrice’s head resting against his chest while his fingers absentmindedly combed through her hair.

Over these few weeks, she had learned every tiny thing that made him melt.

Every smile.

Every touch.

Every whispered compliment.

Love was predictable.

Especially when the other person had never truly been loved before. Just like Della.

Her lips curled almost imperceptibly. How ironic.

The two people who had loved the hardest were also the easiest to deceive.

They were quiet for some time, her head resting on his chest. She drew small circles over them, and he purred every now and then.

Even his wolf loved her touch.

Over the years, she had perfected her acting that she could probably fool anyone. Though Malachi was foolproof and would have eventually exposed her if Della hadn’t walked in.

"Love," Beatrice asked softly.

"Hm?" He opened his eyes.

"I was wondering...," She also looked up, "How did you get Della to confess?"

He glanced over at his palm, then back to her again, "I made a blood pact with her,"

"What?" Beatrice flew up from his chest, "That’s a lot. Why would you do that? What did you promise her in return?!"

"I did it for you," Leopold caressed her face again, "Everything I do, I do it for you,"

Beatrice then studied his face for a moment. She was only gone for about twelve hours and he looked like he had gone to war. His eyes looked like they had just finished releasing tons of fury, and the state of the room also said a lot.

Was he really that obsessed with her?!

He was such an idiot.

"But you didn’t have to do that!" She feigned more worry, and grabbed his palm to look at it properly, "Tell me, what did you promise to give her in return for her confe—"

Beatrice paused when she noticed something about his palm. There was a cut on it — yes — but there was no... actual damage. Plus, if he had really cut himself, the wound should have healed a long time ago.

She looked closer at it, and finally...she understood.

Her eyes widened, her jaw almost touching the floor.

"You—"

"I wouldn’t waste a precious pact on a Rotblood," He groaned softly, then reached into cut and pulled out a very tiny pouch, "I’ve seen the way she behaves around Malachi and I knew it would he hard to convince her to take the blame on her own accord, so before then, I filled this tiny bladder with blood and put it behind two layers of my skin, so when I cut my hand..."

"...you would trick her into thinking you used your blood!" Beatrice finished, a genuine smile coming up on her face, "My love, you’re so smart!" She cried happily, her body literally trembling so hard she could jump right now.

It means Della was in prison for nothing!

She would die for nothing!!

The last time Beatrice had felt this much joy was the night she had watched Della fall into their trap and everyone had condemned her.

"She asked me to save her cousin," Alpha Leopold scoffed, "I couldn’t care less about the kid," He gazed into her eyes again, "All I care about, is you,"

She leaned in and kissed him right there, because for once, he acts deserved it. He deserved it for being this smart, for filling her chest up with raw happiness knowing she once again, has completely crushed Della.

Leopold wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her closer, losing himself completely in the illusion she so expertly maintained.

To him, her kiss meant devotion.

To Beatrice, it meant victory.

She rested her forehead briefly against his, hiding the cold satisfaction in her eyes before gently slipping from his embrace. He reached for her again, but she only smiled and brushed a hand over his cheek.

"Later," she whispered.

The single word was enough. Leopold exhaled with a lovesick smile, content to simply watch her. Every refusal from Beatrice felt like a promise instead of rejection, and every smile felt like a reward. He never noticed how carefully she measured every expression, every touch, and every word she gave him.

She walked toward the window, staring out over the fortress. Somewhere beneath those stone floors, Della was waiting for dawn.

A thrill ran through her.

"I almost can’t believe it," she murmured softly.

"Hm?" Leopold looked up.

"Nothing." She smiled over her shoulder. "I was just thinking... everything worked so well."

"It worked because of you," Leopold said. "Without your courage, none of this would’ve happened."

Beatrice almost laughed.

Courage?

No. It had been Della’s courage.

Della had walked willingly into ruin.

She had knelt before everyone.

She had accepted every accusation.

She had condemned herself with her own voice.

And all because she’d believed one pathetic little lie.

"It’s such a shame she’s gonna die believing her cousin is saved," Beatrice sighed.

"She’ll keep believing it until the moment she’s thrown into the Rogues’ Pit."

"And after?"

Leopold’s expression flattened, "After..." he shrugged, "...it won’t matter."

Beatrice slowly smiled, "No, it won’t,"

Silence settled between them and outside, thunder rolled across the mountains. Leopold poured himself a drink, completely unaware that Beatrice’s smile had never once reached her eyes.

She was already thinking beyond Della, beyond the thing she truly wanted.

Malachi himself!

Imagine being the wife of the most powerful man alive? With his unlimited strength and her quiet, sky strength, they would be the most powerful duo couple.

Just then, three sharp knocks echoed against Leopold’s chamber door and the smile disappeared from both their faces.

"Alpha Leopold." One of his guards called from outside, "There is... someone here insisting on seeing you."

"Who?" Leopold frowned.

The guard hesitated for a moment, then he finally said it, "Alpha Cassian."