Chapter 63
THIRD PERSON POV
Three Days After Darius’s Attack.
The atmosphere sizzled with unvoiced charges. Marceline kneeled in the middle of the throne room, her meticulously built exterior demolished. Ronan had pillaged her rooms, discovering a hoard of her concealed correspondence, condemning proof of her deceit.
How she initiated it. How she reached out to Darius initially and disclosed Elara’s whereabouts and even dispatched a informant to trail her while she resided in the Moonwhite pack.
He’d exposed everything, sparing no corner unexplored. He’d also revealed the facts about Zareth, the sentry who’d inexplicably disappeared, but operated there as an alleged part of Darius’s espionage system.
Marceline lowered her head in disgrace, her knees stung as they were jammed firmly against the icy stone surface, her fingers balled into tight balls, quiet cries convulsed her frame. But her weeping landed on unresponsive ears. Nobody could fathom how extreme her animosity would extend, even if it entailed ruining Ronan and his Pack, devastating blameless existences merely to eliminate one lone individual.
“So,” Ronan started, his tone a deep rumble, pulsing with scarcely restrained fury. The vessels in his throat pulsed, his mandible clenched as he glared at Marceline’s wretched form. “You triggered this? All of this? All those fatalities, all that mayhem…it was entirely your work?!”
“I vow I didn’t intend to!” She screeched, her tone fracturing with a blend of terror and urgency. She crept toward him, but the sentries halted her, obstructing her route as she tried to advance to Ronan on his throne. “I didn’t intend to! I vow! All I desired was the foolish healer removed! I didn’t realize Darius would deceive me by attempting to injure you and the Pack, I would never commit such an act, I vow Ronan!”
Ronan’s gaze tightened, his stare frigid and merciless. “You slew Silas,” he stated, his tone dropping to a subdued murmur, the phrases infused with poison. “You didn’t merely slay him, you coerced him into executing your commands and when he no longer satisfied your demonic desires, you arranged his death,” he rose from his throne and began advancing toward her. “You schemed against the pack, against my subjects and…you schemed against me.” He paused mere steps distant from her, the sentries yet barred her way just in case she wouldn’t commit anything foolish.
No one believed her any longer. She was nothing beyond a shame to them.
“Move.” He directed the sentries who obstructed her path, promptly they left, Marceline seized that chance to shift nearer to Ronan.
“I’m sorry.” She murmured, clutching his leg. “Just grant me one additional opportunity to mend everything correctly. All I request is for you to cherish me,” she glanced up to lock eyes with him. “Is that excessive?”
Ronan uttered nothing and simply booted her hand aside, striding beyond her. He was exerting his utmost to restrain his fury, but it wasn’t aiding. All he could envision was breaking her neck.
“It was self-preservation!” She shouted amid tears, she pivoted to confront him even though his rear faced her. “I was attempting to shield you from that wicked serpent!”
“Alpha,” One of the senior pack members addressed. “She’s culpable of treason, but her motives were not as malevolent as they appear. She was also manipulated and misled by the Alpha Rogue.”
Another senior interjected, his tone cutting. “Her behaviors are inexcusable!” He shouted at the other senior. “How could you declare that? Yes, her drives originated from a misguided terror, but how could she jeopardize the existences of innocents merely to solidify her status?”
The senior from before exhaled. His stare settled on Marceline, then firmed as it fixed on the senior who resisted him. “What shall we do? Slay our Alpha’s consort?”
“She’s no less than a felon!” The senior shouted, others assented in concurrence.
Ronan, though, stayed unaffected by their debate. He’d witnessed the evidence, experienced the bite of disloyalty. The seniors were a proof of their empathy but they couldn’t influence his verdict.
“Alpha?” One of the seniors addressed. “What is your verdict, Sire?”
Ronan inhaled deeply, his torso rising. The fury yet bubbled, but a frigid determination had established over him. “Marceline,” he proclaimed, his tone echoing through the hushed throne room. “I hereby exile you from the Mountain Dew Pack. If you ever step into our domain again, you’ll be slain immediately.” He pivoted to confront her, his stare fixing on hers, allowing no space for uncertainty. “This is the pinnacle of my compassion I can offer you.”
Tears flowed down her cheeks, her cries grew more frantic, more soul-rending. “Ronan please…. Don’t do this…pardon me..”
“You should pardon yourself first.” He stated as he advanced toward his throne, striding beyond her. “Remove her.” He commanded as he settled on his throne, his tone lacking any feeling.
The throne room descended into quiet, some of the seniors all regarded her with sympathy while some were pleased with Ronan’s choice, and a handful desired he had condemned her to demise.
The sentries neared Marceline, seized her and hauled her off. Her shrieks and objections resounded through the throne room, but nothing was going to alter. Her destiny was fixed. Her servants and other collaborators in her deceit were exiled with her, all their appeals for leniency landed on unresponsive ears. The assembly dispersed soon after.
As the final pack members departed, solely Cael and the sentries who protected the throne room lingered. Ronan dragged a hand across his features, the burden of what had occurred bore down on him.
“Cael,” he summoned, his tone fatigued but firm.
Cael inhaled unsteadily, neared Ronan and kneeled before him, his stare locked on the ground. “I presume you grasp the entire facts now, Alpha,” he stated gently. “Why didn’t you condemn me as well?”
Ronan’s core ached. Cael, his most reliable advisor after Theron, had been found to have collaborated with Marceline soon after Silas’s demise. Ronan, in his sorrow and doubt, had opted to probe Cael more deeply instead of penalize him right away. A persistent intuition had informed him something was off, but he didn’t desire to rush to a conclusion.
“I do,” Ronan stated in a voice laden with letdown. “But eventually, you’ll disclose everything. But for the moment…” He motioned to the sentries who had quietly arrived in the space. “You’ll be detained and confined for conspiring against the group.”
Cael inclined his head. “I comprehend.”
The sentries escorted Cael away. Ronan slumped into his seat, the load of all crushed down on him. And now, all he could ponder was Elara. For the initial time, he had grasped a portion of the cause behind her terror and her aloofness. He hadn’t yet pardoned her for deceiving, but he now yearned to learn the facts and embrace it regardless of the pain.
He was going to retrieve Elara, regardless of the expense. And he was going to safeguard her.