Chapter 82: Lunatic.
Eva.
I took a step forward, and as I pushed the door open wider, a faint, satisfied smile formed on my lips almost instinctively, as though I already knew what I was about to see waiting for me inside the room.
It was indeed Ella.
The confirmation should have pleased me more than it did, but the moment my eyes adjusted fully to the scene, that small smile on my face wavered... then completely vanished.
My gaze landed properly—and that was when I noticed them.
Two men stood close beside her bed, positioned like guards yet watching her with a level of attentiveness that felt far too personal, far too careful. Their presence alone shifted the atmosphere in the room, making it feel tighter, heavier, as though the air itself was under surveillance.
"Bitch! You always seem to have men wrapped around your finger," I said inwardly, my eyes narrowing as I continued to stare at Ella where she lay on the bed, injured yet still managing to occupy every attention in the room as if the world still revolved around her.
My jaw tightened almost immediately, the muscles in my face hardening as anger simmered beneath my skin. Slowly, deliberately, I curled my fingers into my palms, clenching my fists so tightly that my nails dug in, pressing sharply into my skin. The small sting did nothing to ease the irritation building inside me.
The two men reacted to the subtle shift in my posture. They turned around at the sound of my movement, their attention snapping toward me in an instant, alert and precise.
The moment their faces came fully into view, recognition struck me immediately, like a delayed realization settling into place.
They were the ironclad Alphas.
But the brief flicker of familiarity I expected never came from them. Instead, their expressions hardened, their gazes darkening almost instantly as they looked me over with open suspicion, as though trying to place me and failing—or worse, choosing not to recognize me at all.
For a second, I wondered if they actually knew me
I mean I was Bloodfang’s Luna.
"Who the hell are you?" they asked in unison, their voices sharp and commanding, cutting through the room with an authority that made my throat tighten.
I swallowed hard.
The confidence I had walked in with moments ago began to fade, slipping away like sand through my fingers, leaving behind something far less steady.
"I actually came to see my best friend Ella," I blurted out quickly, the words rushing out before I could properly think them through, and the instant they left my mouth, a part of me almost regretted how easily I had said them.
Best friend.
I had never truly considered Ella as one. Not in any real sense, because she had always been the one who carried herself as though she was better—too polished, too favored, always ending up with everything I wanted and then smiling like she had earned it effortlessly just to make sure I saw it.
She can not blame me for wanting her dead.
The thought flickered briefly through my mind, dark and unfiltered, before I forced myself back into the moment.
The two Alphas shifted their attention back to Ella, as though evaluating my claim against the woman lying in the bed.
"Is she really your best friend?" they asked.
But this time, their tone carried a puzzled edge, as though they were trying to reconcile what I had said with what they were seeing in front of them. Their suspicion did not fade; if anything, it remained firmly in place, unchanged, as they studied both of us more carefully.
Ella, whose arm was visibly injured and swollen from whatever ordeal had brought her here, stirred faintly on the bed. The movement was slow and weak, as though even the slightest effort cost her something.
Her face was drawn with exhaustion, her features tightened in discomfort, yet her expression still held a strange steadiness as she lifted her gaze.
When she finally spoke, her voice came out low, strained, and rough at the edges, as though she had to push through pain just to form the words.
"I do not know who that lunatic is," she said flatly.
There was no hesitation in her tone. No recognition. No flicker of doubt. Just a cold, dismissive certainty that landed heavily in the room.
A brief silence followed immediately after her statement.
It was not loud, but it was sharp, thick enough to make the atmosphere feel tighter, like the air itself had been compressed.
For a moment, no one moved. Not the men. Not even me. It was as though everyone needed a second to process what had just been said.
Then, as if her first words were not enough, Ella slowly turned her head a little more, her gaze shifting away from the ceiling and toward the room with deliberate slowness. Even in her weakened state, there was something unsettling about the calmness in her actions.
And then she added, her voice still faint but carrying a clear sense of finality, "Throw her out... or rather order for her to be taken to a psychiatric hospital."
The words settled in the air like something irreversible.
What?
My breath caught slightly as the meaning fully registered.
How could Ella say something like that?
For a brief moment, I simply stood there, frozen, as though my mind needed time to catch up with the insult that had just been thrown at me.
I had come here with a clear intention—to show her something, to assert myself, to let her see that I was not beneath her in any way. But instead, everything had collapsed in a single sentence.
And now... I was the one being humiliated.
A hot wave of anger rose through my chest almost immediately, spreading fast, burning, tightening until it settled in my throat like something I could barely contain.
I was burning with anger at this point.
"Ella, you..." I began sharply, my voice already laced with fury, but I stopped midway, swallowing the rest of my words the moment I felt their attention shift back onto me.
The atmosphere in the room had changed again—heavier, more intimidating.
"Madwoman, do you want us to throw you out, or will you leave yourself?" one of the men asked coldly, his tone firm and without room for argument.
I didn’t even need to be told twice. I wasn’t familiar with these so-called ironclad Alphas, but the one who spoke had emerald eyes that felt particularly piercing, like he could see straight through any intention I tried to hide.
The second man’s voice followed immediately, sharper, more final.
"Don’t test my patience. Use the door."
My jaw tightened so hard it ached.
For a second, I wanted to argue. I wanted to say something—anything—to regain even a shred of dignity. But the weight of their presence made it clear that pushing further would only make things worse for me.
So I didn’t.
Instead, I gritted my teeth and turned sharply on my heel, storming out of the room in clear frustration, my footsteps quick and heavy as I left the suffocating space behind.
The moment I was out of sight, the anger I had been holding in finally broke loose.
"Arrrrrrgggghhh!" I screamed inwardly, my thoughts exploding with frustration. "Damn you, Ella!" I cursed under my breath, my fingers curling tightly as I walked faster down the corridor.
She always acted like this.
Always lucky. Always protected. Always untouchable no matter where she went, no matter what situation she found herself in.
It made no sense.
And worse, it irritated me beyond reason.
She wasn’t even that special. Not truly. If anything, she was more like a witch—there was no other explanation for how she always managed to come out on top and loved. And it wasn’t like she was even that beautiful. I was more attractive than she was. That much was obvious. Anyone could see it.
With annoyance still burning in my chest, I headed straight toward the doctor’s office to proceed with my check-up, my mind still replaying the humiliation I had just suffered.
But before I could even reach his door, my phone buzzed.
A message came in from Thomas.
> Hi love, I’m already at the hospital, at the parking lot actually. I’ll wait for you here. And hurry up, my baby still needs to take the pie.
I stared at the message for a moment, my expression slowly shifting as I read it again.
Then I exhaled deeply.
And just like that, a new idea began to form in my mind—slowly, sharply, settling into place like something I had been waiting for without knowing it.
A small, knowing smile curved on my lips.
"Just you wait, Ella," I muttered under my breath, my voice low and steady now, no longer shaking with anger but instead carrying something colder. "I will make you pay for this humiliation."
