Chapter 77: Lying in the Darkness

Della’s POV.

I’ve never loved the idea of dark, eerie places. But I’ve been trapped in them more times than I count, especially when I was a kid.

Other kids would taunt me, throw stones at me, attack me, and most times I’d get locked up somewhere for days.

Hunger would make it difficult for me to move, and thirst would scratch and claw at my throat and tongue. I remember pounding at the door every time, begging them to let me out till my throat became sour, and my fists became bloody.

With time, I had learnt to deal with the darkness. I had somehow sharpened my senses to it, and movements in the dark easily caught my eye more than those in plain sight.

But tonight was worse than any trapped darkness I’ve ever experienced before. I was an adult now, and it should have been a little easier, but it wasn’t.

I had been rejected.

The mate bond had vanished.

My soul had been torn apart, and the pain had coursed through my core and cracked what was barely holding on.

And the pain...I couldn’t even begin to describe it.

The last thing I remember after Malachi announced the rejection in front of everyone was two guards dragging me into this dark place, tossing my weak body on the floor with a hard thud, and pulling the heavy doors closed behind them.

And I haven’t been able to move from that position ever since. Every time I tried to move, pain would swallow my whole being and a scream would tear out of my lips. Every part of me was about to break, barely hanging on together.

The darkness only made me feel more suffocated. Every breath felt like drawing little shards of glass into my lungs, and the pain blinded my eyes till I was pretty sure I was now crying out tears of blood.

And yet, despite the pain, all I could think about was how he had stood there...and chosen the second option.

Of course he had given me a heads-up, but that same, dull, stupid part of me had hoped for something... different. That part of me had clutched the rest of my heart so tightly and pleaded that he chose otherwise.

That he... fight for me.

I didn’t want to be Luna — I would never dream of it. But I didn’t want to be a slave either. I didn’t want my body to be taken over and over again by countless, hungry Alphas while everyone watched and called it a ritual.

At this point, I wish Malachi had just thrown me into the rogue’s pit.

More tears stung my eyes, my breath still stabbing my lungs and all the day to my eyes. My hand curled around my stomach instinctively, every small movement tearing me open from the inside out.

Moon Goddess!

This is definitely a thousand times more painful than I’d ever imagined.

Death would have been kinder for me. I should have just died the moment he had rejected me, and ended all this for once.

Why am I even still alive?!

The earth underneath my head had been trembling all day, and I could make out the sound of rushed footsteps moving all over the castle.

Erratic. Quick. Barked orders.

Everyone was busy preparing for tomorrow. They were preparing the ritual hall. The ritual table. Looking after the arriving guests. Preparing the feast that would take place after...they were all done with her.

Everyone was right.

I wouldn’t survive that.

Not when I could barely survive this right here.

I remained lying there, imagining Malachi’s face. He would probably be celebrating more than anyone else, glad there was no more tether between the two of them. And just like he had promised to make my life hell over here, he’d probably see to it that he would watch countless men take what they want from me.

A rotblood getting what she deserved for every attempt she made to kill innocent people.

His former mate.

It’d probably be like watching Katherine all over again getting what she really deserves.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips, and I wanted nothing more than to pound my fist on the ground, but I couldn’t even lift a finger.

How pathetic.

.

.

.

Della had spent her entire life surviving things no child should ever survive, only to end up exactly where everyone had always promised she belonged.

A Moonrot.

A curse.

A thing.

Not even worthy of dying when she was supposed to.

Another wave of agony ripped through her body, forcing a cry from somewhere deep inside her chest. It wasn’t even a scream anymore. She had screamed too much. This sound was hoarse. Animalistic. Barely human.

"Why..." She rasped, every syllable scraping her throat raw. "Why won’t you let me die?"

Silence answered her.

Not even the Moon Goddess.

She laughed, and the sound echoed strangely inside the cramped darkness, hollow and broken until it almost frightened her.

How ridiculous.

She had spent years praying.

Praying that someone would believe her.

Praying that someone would protect her.

Praying that one day she would be loved.

Every prayer had been answered with another punishment.

Another bruise.

Another accusation.

"So this..." she whispered, tears spilling freely down her face, "this is all I was ever born for."

Her fingers dug weakly into the dirt beneath her, and every grain of soil pressed beneath her nails.

"I didn’t poison or kill anyone..." Her breathing hitched, "I didn’t plant Moonfire." Fresh tears blurred what little she could see, "I didn’t do any of it."

Yet, tomorrow men would line up to touch her body and they would see it all as payment for crimes she’d never committed.

The thought made bile rise into her throat.

She turned her head sharply, retching until nothing came out except painful, dry heaves that left her ribs aching, "I hate you..." Her lips trembled, "I..." Another tear rolled down her cheek, "I hate you, Malachi."

Saying his name hurt.

Everything about him hurt.

His face.

His voice.

The way he’d held her while promising no one would ever hurt her again.

"As if..." she whispered brokenly, "...as if I was never worth fighting for. You shouldn’t have looked at me like that...if I wasn’t!"

Her chest tightened again, and she squeezed her eyes shut, "I hate all of you." She said again, her voice crackling into something almost unrecognisable, "I hate every single one of you." The walls swallowed her words, "The elders..."

She could still see their faces.

Watching.

Nodding.

Approving.

Not one of them had looked away while chains were fastened around her wrists.

"I hate Beatrice." The name dripped with poison, "I hate Selene." She let out another breath, "I hate every person who watched..." Her fingernails scraped uselessly across the ground until dirt packed beneath them, "...and did nothing."

Her shoulders shook violently this time.

"And I hate myself..." Those words came out the quietest, "...for still hoping."

She should have known.

She should have stopped believing the day Malachi first wrapped his hand around her throat and forced that marriage on her. She should have stopped believing when he had clicked that stupid collar around her neck.

Instead, she had kept hoping. His actions made her hope.

Like a fool.

Like the pathetic little girl pounding on locked doors until her fists bled.

Another sob tore free, and her body shuddered again from the force of the pain that came with it.

Outside, somewhere above her prison, bells began to ring. Each toll echoed through the stone like a countdown.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer to tomorrow.

Closer to the ritual.

Closer to becoming something less than human.

And this time...there was probably no escape for her.

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