Free Web NovelChapter 212: Chapter 212
Riley’s POV
"And after all these... you still dared to stab Gunnar?"
My voice came out low and steady, but it carried across the hall without effort. Every guard heard it. Daphne and Wendy heard it. Ethan heard it most of all.
I lifted my hand and brought the knife up, the blade angled toward him. My grip was firm, my arm steady, my eyes fixed on his.
Ethan saw it clearly.
His reaction was immediate. His body went rigid, and his eyes widened before he squeezed them shut like that alone could save him. A scream ripped out of him, loud and desperate, as if the blade had already gone through him.
But I didn’t move.
I held the knife there for a second longer, watching him. Watching how quickly fear took over him. Watching how he broke before anything even touched him.
Then I stopped.
The tension in my arm loosened. I lowered my hand slowly and let the knife fall from my grip and hit the ground with a sharp metallic sound.
Ethan’s scream cut off abruptly.
The silence that followed pressed against the walls.
He stayed frozen, eyes still shut, shoulders tight, breath uneven like he was waiting for the pain to follow. When nothing came, he opened his eyes cautiously.
The moment he realized he hadn’t been stabbed, relief spread across his face. His shoulders dropped, his breathing eased slightly, and something like hope crept into his expression.
I watched him without changing my stance.
"I can’t do it," I said. My voice was calm, without hesitation.
He blinked at me, confused at first, then his lips slowly curved into a smile. It wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t careful. It was the kind of smile that came from thinking you had just escaped something final.
"I knew it," he said, letting out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh. "I knew you couldn’t."
He shook his head slightly, like he had been certain all along.
"Of course you wouldn’t hurt me," he added, his voice gaining a bit of confidence.
I let him finish. Then I shook my head once.
"No," I said.
His smile paused.
"I couldn’t stab you," I continued, my tone steady, "because it would be too easy."
The words settled in slowly.
The smile faded from his face, piece by piece, until nothing was left of it. His expression tightened, and his eyes darkened as the meaning sank in.
I stepped closer to him.
"I’m going to lock you up here," I said, "until I decide a better punishment for you."
He stared at me, disbelief taking over.
"But until then," I added, "I need you alive."
His head shook immediately, panic rising fast.
"No... no, Riley," he said quickly, his voice breaking as he tried to crawl backward slightly. "You can’t do that. Don’t lock me up here. Just-just kill me now."
The urgency in his voice was clear. It wasn’t about dignity. It wasn’t about courage. It was fear.
He knew what this place was. freēwēbnovel.com
He knew who was in it. He knew what waiting would mean.
I let a small smile form on my face.
He saw it, and it made him more desperate.
"You don’t get to decide anything now," I said.
I moved closer until I stood directly in front of him.
"And besides," I continued, my tone shifting just slightly, "we’re still married."
His expression tightened.
"I’ll need to divorce you properly before I do anything permanent," I said.
I tilted my head slightly, watching him closely. "Am I not considerate enough?"
For a brief moment, he just stared at me, like he didn’t know how to respond. Then something in him snapped.
"You maniac woman!" he shouted. His voice echoed sharply through the hall.
Before the sound even settled, he pushed himself up and lunged at me. His movement was sudden, fueled by anger and fear, his hand coming toward me without control.
I stepped aside easily.
His body moved past me with too much force, and before he could regain balance, I drove my foot into his leg.
The impact knocked him off completely.
He crashed down hard onto the floor, the sound heavy and final.
I didn’t give him time to recover. I stepped forward and grabbed his throat, my hand closing around it firmly.
His body froze.
His hands came up instantly, grabbing at my wrist, trying to pull it away, but his strength wasn’t enough.
"Try that one more time," I said, my voice low and controlled, "and I will throw you into the deepest dungeon in this place."
His grip on my wrist tightened, but it didn’t move me.
"And trust me," I continued, tightening my hold just enough to make his breath hitch, "even if the wolves down there tear you apart..."
His eyes widened.
"...I will make sure you will still stay alive."
His breathing became uneven.
"Even if you are left with just one breathing nose," I added.
I held him there for a second longer, letting the words sink in.
Then I released him and shoved him away.
He hit the ground again, coughing immediately as he struggled to breathe.
"You’re going to sit in a cell," I said, stepping back slightly, "and think."
He stayed on the floor, his body shaking as he tried to steady himself.
"You will think about everything you’ve done," I continued. "Plotting against your own."
I paused. "And stabbing Gunnar."
My voice hardened slightly. "Your Alpha."
He didn’t respond.
I raised my hand slightly and clicked my fingers.
The sound was enough.
The doors opened, and another group of guards entered quickly, moving with purpose.
They didn’t ask questions. They went straight to Ethan.
"No-wait-Riley!" he shouted as they grabbed him.
He struggled immediately, his body twisting as he tried to break free.
"Riley, don’t do this-please!" he yelled.
They pulled him up, holding him firmly.
"You can’t leave me here!" he shouted, panic fully taking over now.
His voice echoed through the hall as they began dragging him toward the exit.
"Riley! Riley-!"
I didn’t answer.
I didn’t move.
I just watched.
His voice grew louder as they dragged him further.
"Don’t do this to me!"
The doors opened and they pulled him through.
His voice carried even as the doors closed then it stopped and the hall went quiet again.
I stood there for a moment, letting the silence settle fully.
Then I bent down and picked up the knife I had dropped earlier.
The blade still carried traces of blood.
I reached for a piece of cloth nearby and wiped it carefully, dragging the fabric along the metal until it was clean again.
My movements were steady, unhurried.
When I finished, I straightened and lifted my head.
Daphne and Wendy stood where they had been the entire time.
But they were not the same.
Their posture had changed. Their confidence was gone. Their bodies were tense, their shoulders stiff, and their eyes were fixed on me without blinking.
They had watched everything. They had heard everything. They knew exactly what was coming for them.
I held the knife loosely in my hand and walked toward them at a measured pace. Each step was slow enough to make them feel it, controlled enough to leave no doubt about my intention.
They didn’t try to run. Their feet stayed planted where they were, not because they chose to stay, but because they understood there was nowhere to go and no one who would help them.
I stopped at a distance close enough for them to see the blade clearly, close enough to hear my voice without effort.
My gaze moved from Daphne to Wendy and back again, taking in every detail of their expressions, the tension in their faces, the fear they were trying and failing to hide.
I let the silence stretch just long enough to make them wait.
Then I spoke.
"Now ladies, who would go first now?"
