Chapter 53: The Mask Falls

Liora’s POV

For a while after Ivy spoke, I didn’t move.

Not because I couldn’t, but because I needed a moment to steady everything inside me. My body was still weak, my breathing uneven from the poison, but my mind was clear in a way it hadn’t been before. There was no confusion left, no second-guessing, no desperate need to explain her actions in a way that would hurt less.

I had heard her.

Every word.

And now, there was nothing left to misunderstand.

I let out a slow breath, just enough for it to shift my chest, and then I opened my eyes.

Ivy went completely still.

For a second, neither of us spoke. She was still sitting beside the bed, her hand resting lightly against my wrist, exactly where she had been pretending to check on me. But now there was no mask, no softness, no careful concern in her expression.

Just awareness.

"You’re awake," she said.

Her voice didn’t carry shock this time. It wasn’t rushed or panicked. It was calm, measured, like she had already adjusted to the situation before I even opened my eyes.

"I’ve been awake," I replied quietly.

The words came out weaker than I intended, but they didn’t shake.

Something in her expression shifted slightly, not surprise, not fear, just a small acknowledgment that things had changed.

"How long?" she asked.

"Long enough," I said.

Silence settled between us, heavier than anything that had come before.

She didn’t pull her hand away immediately, and I didn’t move mine either. For a moment, it almost looked like nothing had changed, like we were still the same two people sitting beside each other, sharing a quiet space.

But it wasn’t the same.

Not anymore.

I turned my head slightly to look at her fully, and for the first time since everything started, I didn’t try to soften my expression for her. I didn’t try to make it easier for her to lie.

"Ivy," I said, my voice low but steady, "why?"

That was all.

No accusation. No anger. No raised voice.

Just one question.

Her eyes held mine for a long moment, searching, as if she was trying to decide whether I deserved the truth or not. Then she leaned back slightly in her chair, her posture relaxing in a way that felt almost unsettling.

"You heard everything," she said.

It wasn’t a question.

"Yes."

Another pause followed, but this time it wasn’t heavy. It felt... final.

"Then you already know," she replied.

"I want to hear it from you," I said.

She studied me again, more carefully this time, and then something in her expression settled into place. Not defensive. Not guilty. Just... certain.

"Fine," she said quietly.

Her hand slipped away from mine as she straightened in her seat, folding her hands together in her lap like this was just another conversation, something ordinary that didn’t carry the weight it actually did.

"I led you there that night," she said. The words came easily, without hesitation.

"To the courtyard. To the wolves."

My chest tightened, but I didn’t look away.

"I knew they would be waiting," she continued. "I made sure of it."

The room felt smaller suddenly, but I forced myself to stay still, to keep listening.

"You remember how I kept walking ahead of you?" she asked, her tone almost reflective. "How I stopped talking? That wasn’t an accident. I was waiting for the right moment to leave you alone."

Of course I remembered, every step every second.

"And then I told her where you would be," Ivy added.

My fingers curled slightly into the sheets beneath me.

"Isolade," she clarified, even though she didn’t need to. "She wanted you gone, and I gave her exactly what she needed."

There was no pride in her voice, no hesitation either, just truth.

"And when that didn’t work," she went on, her gaze steady on mine, "I finished it myself."

The tray. The food.

The way she had watched me.

Everything connected too easily now.

"You poisoned me," I said quietly.

"Yes."

The word landed without resistance. No denial. No attempt to soften it. Just acceptance.

For a moment, neither of us spoke again.

I felt something shift inside me, something that had been holding on for far too long finally giving way. Not loudly, not violently, just quietly, like something breaking that had already been cracked for a long time.

"Ivy," I said, my voice softer now, not because I wanted it to be, but because that was all I had left, "I always loved you."

Her expression didn’t change.

"I always cared about you," I continued. "Everything I did, every choice I made, it was for you. Even this," I gestured weakly to the room, to the fortress, to everything that had brought me here, "I accepted it because I thought it would protect you."

She didn’t interrupt. Didn’t look away.

"So why?" I asked again, my voice tightening slightly this time despite myself. "Why would you do this to me?"

For the first time since the conversation started, something flickered in her eyes. Not regret, not guilt but something sharper.

"Because you exist," she said.

The answer came so quickly, so simply, that for a second I didn’t understand it.

"What?" I asked.

Her lips pressed together briefly before she spoke again, slower this time, like she wanted me to understand it clearly.

"Because your existence is something I hate more than anything in my life."

The words didn’t sound forced nor does they sound emotional. They sounded like something she had thought about for a long time.

"You don’t even realize it, do you?" she continued. "Everything about you makes things harder. The way people look at you. The way you keep surviving things you shouldn’t. The way you act like you’re better just because you choose to sacrifice yourself every time something goes wrong."

"I never—"

"You didn’t have to say it," she cut in calmly. "It’s just there. In everything you do."

I shook my head slightly, even though the movement made the dizziness worse. "That’s not true."

"It is," she replied. "You think helping people makes you special. You think suffering for others makes you different."

"I never thought that," I said.

She tilted her head slightly, studying me again. "That’s the problem. You don’t even see it."

Her voice didn’t rise, but it carried something heavier now.

"You were never supposed to be more than what we needed you to be," she said. "You were useful. That’s all. But then things started changing. You started becoming something else. Something that didn’t fit anymore."

My chest tightened painfully.

"So you decided to kill me?" I asked.

"I decided to fix the problem," she replied.

The words were colder now. More precise.

"You were already leaving anyway," she added. "Marrying Kael, going to the fortress... it was the perfect opportunity. If you died here, no one would question it. No one would come looking. It would all just... end."

"And what do you get out of it?" I asked quietly.

She didn’t hesitate this time.

"Everything that was supposed to be mine."

The answer settled heavily between us.

"The position," she continued. "The future. The life you were never meant to have."

I stared at her, trying to find something in her expression that would tell me this wasn’t real, that there was still something left of the person I thought I knew.

There wasn’t.

"You were just a step," she said. "A necessary one."

The words hurt more than I expected, not because they were loud or cruel, but because they were so easy for her to say.

For a moment, the room felt too quiet again.

Not empty. Just... finished. I let out a slow breath, my gaze dropping briefly before lifting back to hers.

"I would have given it to you," I said.

She frowned slightly. "What?"

"Whatever you think you needed from me," I continued. "You didn’t have to do this. You could have just asked."

Something in her expression tightened, just for a second.

"I don’t want what’s given out of pity," she said sharply. "I want what’s mine."

"And you think this is yours?" I asked.

" No. This is yours, I planted you here as my stepping stone"

The answer came without hesitation.

Before I could respond, the door opened.

The sound cut through the room sharply enough that both of us turned toward it.

Kael stood there.

I didn’t know how long he had been outside or how much he had heard, but the look on his face told me it was enough.

His gaze moved from me to Ivy slowly, and there was nothing controlled about it anymore. No calm, no distance, no careful restraint.

Just anger.

Raw and undeniable.

For the first time since I had known him, he didn’t look like an Alpha managing a situation.

He looked like someone who had just been given a reason to destroy something.

And this time, there was no doubt about who that something was.