Love And Betrayal | ✔️

33. Bad at confrontations (III)

I PLASTER A smile onto my face. "Hello, Stella. Fancy seeing you here."

Suspicion never leaves her face. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"This is my house." She scoffs. "Where else would I be?"

"I don't know, practicing duelling outside like the three thousand people outside, maybe?"

Her face darkens and her eyes shift from me to elsewhere. "It's none of your business, Jessica Jones." She sneers.

In three solid steps, I'm right in front of her, towering over her. Having tall genes has it's perks, you can be intimidating without even trying. "Stella Carter, It's all of my business."

Something flashes through her eyes, before her face contorts into one of anger. "Stay out of my way." She says, gritting her teeth.

"I would, hon, but you're in mine."

She tries to raise her hand to strike me, but I'm quick to deflect it. In a split second, I have her on her back, pushed into the wall until she has no choice but to answer. I twist her hand, not hard enough to break her bones, but hard enough to send the signal mess-with-me-again-you're-good-as-dead.

"Tell me!" I snarl. "What have you been doing behind our backs all this time?"

"NOTHING!" she screams. "Absolutely nothing!" Tears stream down her cheeks as she howls in pain.

I hear her voice, I hear her uneven heartbeats. . . and I know she's still lying.

She's not scared of me. She's just acting like she is. It's probably some fucked up master plan.

Enraged, I twist her hand further, this time with the sole intention of causing her pain. I hear the crack in her bones and the howl that rips through the air as she throws her head back in agony.

Her brother gave up her life trying to save her and the rest of the wolves. We risked our necks to ensure the world has a better future. We put in every last drop of our blood, sweat and tears for the welfare of our people, and this is what she does in return?

I see red.

Turning her around, I slam her into the wall again. Watching her wince with pain, gives me a sense of satisfaction. My fingers go around her throat, as I threaten to squeeze the air out of them. "Tell me." I say in a low voice. "Or believe me, I will enjoy ripping you apart, limb to limb. Once I'm done with you, even your snobby Dad won't be able to recognize your face."

She whimpers. "Let me go, please!"

My patience is quickly wearing thin.

Seconds pass as she breathes heavily, trying to compose herself. Blood trickles down her nose, her chin and then to my hand. Disgust rises up in me as I watch her bleed and sob like a miserable, pathetic mess.

Mess. That's what she is.

This girl isn't fit to be the Luna.

Never was. Never is. Never will be.

Pity it took us all such a long time to figure that out.

Her silence angers me beyond measure, especially when I look into her eyes and see her brother Aden in them. The look of hurt that his eyes once held when he realized his sister was a traitor all along. He died knowing his own family was responsible for everything that happened.

I'm not going to let his death be in vain.

I owe him this.

My grip on her arm is like a vice, it grows tighter by the second. Judging by the way, her arm is quickly turning blue, she's got seconds to make a decision.