Chapter 50
THIRD PERSON POV
“Your boy seems to cause issues, doesn’t he, Lady Marceline?” Darius’s tone, velvety like fine whiskey, sliced through the strained quiet. He extended a mug of ale toward her, an offer she brushed aside with a flick of her wrist. Recently, Darius had come calling, but not for Elara—a motive Marceline was determined to uncover.
Her query remained unchanged.
‘Why hasn’t Darius moved to seize Elara yet? Why was he still squandering time?’
Marceline’s time away from the palace had been justified to Ronan as a mere wish to venture beyond the Pack’s borders. Ronan hadn’t bothered to probe or challenge her; he merely consented and assigned two guards to escort her.
His indifference toward her wounded, yet it also brought her solace. It ensured he wouldn’t suspect her rendezvous with Darius.
“Regrettably, Silas has been behaving…oddly. I believed I could rely on him fully without any lapses,” she confessed, a faint exhale slipping from her mouth. “But at least he’s still valuable. I haven’t detected anything suspicious about him yet that might indicate disloyalty.”
Darius laughed, a deep guttural noise devoid of mirth. He carved a portion of roasted meat with his utensil, savoring it deliberately. “‘Still valuable’ suffices,” he murmured lowly. “You require another, someone more adept at exceeding expectations solely to please you. Not one who challenges your commands or those of your associates.”
His statement lingered potently in the atmosphere, laden with ominous undertones. Marceline’s fury ignited, a abrupt warmth surging in her torso.
“Silas might be foolish, but he’s not that terrible!” She countered, her words cutting harsher than planned, drawing stares to their table. She laughed awkwardly and gestured at the other patrons in the inn, then faced Darius again with a rigid look.
Fortunately, she had fully altered her appearance to be unidentifiable, and Darius had done likewise. This allowed them to merge seamlessly with the crowd.
Darius lifted a brow at her outburst. “Oh? Really? Do you even grasp why I’m proceeding cautiously? It’s because you, dear Lady Marceline, have neglected to fulfill your role.”
Marceline huffed and folded her arms across her chest. She couldn’t fathom what she’d just heard. ‘Neglected to fulfill her role.’ She knew she’d completed every task required; all Darius needed was to snatch Elara covertly and vanish without evidence, which shouldn’t be difficult. Unbeknownst to her, the Rogue Alpha harbored his own schemes.
“And that is?” She inquired.
Darius grinned. “Forge an entry for me.”
“An entry?” She blinked at him, bewildered. “What do you mean?”
“I have no desire to spark a massive clash with Ronan and his cherished pack. I seek only the blood healer. However, if you wish to avoid carnage and me hauling Elara from that pack amid decapitated corpses, forge an entry for me,” he halted, taking another mouthful of meat. “Shouldn’t be difficult since Ronan appears indifferent to your actions. He wouldn’t suspect you in the slightest.”
Marceline snarled, her hands balling as her knuckles blanched. “Be quiet!” She immediately regretted the outburst. Darius’s eyes shifted to an eerie hue; she cleared her throat and compelled herself to unwind, recalling his fearsome notoriety.
“Can’t I simply abduct her and deliver her to you?” She proposed, her urgency clear.
Darius shook his head, dabbing his mouth with a cloth. He reclined in his seat, gazing at her expressionlessly. “Abducting her would be far too apparent. Anyone with minimal wits would unravel your scheme. Ronan wouldn’t hesitate to accuse you, and I doubt that’s your goal, is it?”
“What should I do, then?” She questioned. He was correct; she needed a method to attain her aims without rousing Ronan. If Elara were taken by outsiders, Ronan would eventually surrender and presume her deceased.
Darius grinned and inched nearer. “Facilitate border access. Eliminate the guards stationed there. That way, infiltrating the territory and abducting her will require minimal effort. He might even conclude she fled…”
Darius’s strategy was treacherously slick, the illusion of a simple fix clouding her discernment. She fixated solely on Ronan abandoning Elara, blinding herself to the perilous snare she was entering.
“He wants the border guards dead,” Marceline told Silas, her tone emotionless and flat. Silas’s eyes bulged, his complexion draining instantly.
“What?!” He yelped, fingers raking through his hair as he paced wildly. “Surely, Lady Marceline, you don’t trust this man and his sly promises!”
“What?” She barked, her tolerance fraying. “Propose a superior plan, then!”
“Snatch her and hand her over. Then end the matter! Alpha Ronan would never suspect!”
“He knows I despise her!” She fired back. “The instant he discovers Elara vanished without resistance, he’d storm my rooms, and only the Moon Goddess knows his reaction!” The final words were a faint whisper, exposing her profound dread of Ronan’s anger. She inhaled deeply and pressed on. “This way, he wouldn’t suspect at all and would concentrate on pursuing some ‘abductors.’ After repeated failed rescues, he’ll cease and regain clarity!”
“This scheme is deranged!” Silas implored. “I plead with you, Lady Marceline. This exceeds limits and will claim innocent lives…see past your envy and…”
Marceline rose suddenly, approaching her window with her back to Silas. Her stare locked on the garden directly beneath.
“Lady Marceline?” Silas called, voice laced with worry.
“Leave.” She ordered, brooking no debate.
Silas, vanquished, departed the room, shutting the door softly. Marceline then called for Zareth shortly after.
“You summoned?” Zareth inquired upon entering her chambers, his demeanor lax to the brink of rudeness.
“Follow Darius’s instructions,” she muttered. “Inform him I consent.”
A grin crept across Zareth’s mouth. “Of course, Lady Marceline.” He said, turning to exit, but she halted him, her voice scarcely a murmur.
“Eliminate Silas as well. I sense he’d sabotage our plans.”
“Of course, Lady Marceline.” He replied without glancing back and left her room.
Little did she realize that allying with the devil would mark the start of her endless troubles.