"Wha—what's happening?"
My voice barely came out. It cracked halfway, caught between disbelief and something colder, heavier. My eyes flicked back and forth between Stella's bruised, swollen face and Finn's unreadable expression.
And then my gaze locked onto his.
His silence unnerved me more than the sight of the blood drying on Stella's neck.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"It was her." He tilted his head slightly toward Stella, his tone flat. Certain.
Something dropped in my stomach, making me want to vomit.
I stared at him, not wanting to believe what I already feared he meant.
Still, I asked. "What exactly do you mean, Alpha?"
There was a tremble in my voice I couldn't quite hide.
Finn's eyes, those cold, dark orbs, narrowed a little. "You know exactly what I mean, breeder," he said, voice like a blade dragged slow. "That servant is the one who poisoned you."
For a moment, the world seemed to still.
I blinked, trying to make sense of it. Trying to stitch the image of the kind girl who brought me soup and herbs into the accusation now being hurled in her direction like it was fact.
"No," I said, but it was more to myself. A whisper meant to push back the thought before it could take root.
He had to be wrong. He had to be.
Stella… she cared for me. She cared when no one else did.
She wouldn't.
She couldn't.
"That's not possible," I said louder, forcing my voice to steady. I looked back at him, eyes wide with disbelief. "Stella's the only one who's been kind to me in this entire place. She took care of me…"
Finn didn't blink. "And she made sure to poison you herself, too."
"No." The word came sharp this time. "You're wrong."
He let out a quiet breath, the kind that wasn't quite a sigh but carried the same weight of condescension.
"We found the vial hidden in her belongings," he said. "Some substance that, without a doubt, could kill a person. If you were found an hour later, you would have been dead. That's how lethal the poison is. You think someone planted it? In her quarters? Where only servants go? No outsider would've been able to slip past without being noticed."
I looked past him, to Stella, to the blood drying under her nose and the dull way her head hung like she'd already given up.
But I still couldn't believe it.
"She's being framed," I said. "Someone wants me to think it's her, but it isn't."
I turned to Finn, meeting his gaze again. "You want the truth? Then keep her alive. Because if she wanted me dead, she's had plenty of chances. And I should have been long gone."
Something flickered in his expression, but it was gone before I could name it.
"She has confessed," he said, quietly. "Under questioning."
My mouth parted, but no words came out.
I didn't need to ask what he meant by questioning.
I looked at Stella again, but her eyes never rose to meet mine.
"You said no outsider could have slipped past the guards," I said, my voice rising. "What if it wasn't an outsider? What if you've had a traitor under your nose this entire time?"
I took a step forward, frustration tightening in my chest. "What about the other servants? The guards? Did you even investigate this thoroughly? Or are you just looking for someone convenient to punish?"
Finn's eyes narrowed.
He was the Alpha sharp, calculating. He wasn't stupid. He couldn't honestly believe a maid, even one as capable as Stella, had pulled something like this off alone. Not without help. Not unless someone from the inside wanted this to happen and left Stella to take the fall.
Someone from the Council, maybe. One of those smug faces at the table who watched me like a commodity, like a useful womb and nothing more.
"You're overlooking the obvious," I continued. "Why would she do it now? After everything she's done for me? Do you really think she'd risk it this way?"
Finn's expression turned colder, if that was even possible.
"Do you even know her background?" he asked, voice low with disdain.
My breath stilled.
"Her father was one of your father's workers," he said. "One of the men killed for treason. She's been in this manor ever since. Quiet. Waiting. She had every reason to hate your family, Vivien. Every reason to wait for the right moment to strike."
The words struck deeper than I expected.
No. No, this couldn't be right.
I turned slowly, the shock still settling like frost in my bones. My eyes found Stella's again.
Her head was still bowed. Her face bruised and bloodied, hair hanging limp around her shoulders. She hadn't moved once.
"Is it true, Stella?" My voice cracked, anger and hurt colliding inside me. "Is it true?!"
Silence.
She didn't answer. Didn't even look at me.
Just kept her eyes on the floor, as if she no longer had the strength, or the right to lift them.
"Answer her," Finn said coolly.
He strode toward the cell, slow and deliberate. Then he reached through the bars and grabbed a fistful of her hair, jerking her head up.
I flinched.
Her face was raw. Swollen. Her eyes dull.
"She admitted it," Finn said. "Tell her what you told us, omega."
For a heartbeat, I thought she wouldn't speak. That she'd stay silent, let the moment stretch.
But then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, "I did it."
Just three words.
But they landed like a blow.
I stared at her, waiting, silently begging, for a sign that it wasn't real. That this wasn't happening. That it was forced. That she didn't mean it.
And then I saw it.
Just the faintest flicker.
In her eyes, past the bruises, past the blankness, something familiar stared back at me. Not defiance. Not guilt. But regret. And fear. And something else too—
Something that still looked like her.
The girl who brought me food. The one who stayed when everyone else turned away.
I couldn't explain it. I couldn't prove it. But I felt it in my gut.
She wasn't guilty.
Not truly.
I clenched my fists, my heart pounding in my throat. "Reinvestigate it," I said firmly. "You're making a mistake, Alpha. Someone's using her. Framing her. You have to look deeper—"
But Finn cut me off.
"I've made my choice," he said flatly.
He let go of her and stepped back.
"She will be tortured," he said. "And then she will be executed."