I can’t stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth as I point out the contradictions in Lila’s statements. I’m not holding back. Not anymore. “You said one thing, and now you’re saying something completely different. Which one is it, Lila?” I meet her gaze, my voice steady and firm, and I see the flicker of discomfort in her eyes. She’s caught, and she knows it.
Raiden’s gaze shifts between us, and I can feel the tension crackle in the air. I know I’ve done it. I’ve exposed the cracks in Lila’s perfect exterior. Her perfect façade. He’s noticing it too. The look on his face changes ever so slightly–like he’s finally seeing something he hadn’t before.
Lila’s response is immediate, but it’s not what I expect. She starts crying. Genuine tears, I assume, but the scene feels too orchestrated, too convenient. “I–I didn’t mean it!” slie sobs, her voice quivering with feigned vulnerability. “It was just an innocent mistake, Raiden. Why are you treating me like this?”
I can feel my lip curling into a slight sneer. I’m not buying it. “As a Delta, don’t you know how serious SOA is?” I reply sharply, my voice cutting through the air. “Everything should be handled seriously. Is that how you treat your job?” I glance at Raiden for a moment, making sure he sees just how much she’s trying to avoid responsibility. “If it were someone from another pack here, they’d point out your mistake without batting an eye. Would you cry in front of everyone and embarrass Silverfang?”
Lila’s sobbing only gets louder, and the whole scene feels increasingly staged. She wipes at her eyes dramatically, trying to pull on Raiden’s sympathy. “Why do you think of me like this, Siena?” she asks, her voice cracking. “Do you have something against me? Are you still holding a grudge because of my lowly commoner origins?”
I almost laugh at her. “My best friend is a commoner too, Lila,” I retort, not missing a beat. “And she’s strong and gentle. Don’t try to change the topic, though. We’re talking about your mistake, not your origins.”
Her eyes widen for a moment, as though my words have struck her in a place she wasn’t expecting. But she quickly recovers, as always, and tries to regain her footing. But it’s too late. I’ve already called her out. She’s lost control of the narrative.
Raiden interrupts us before the conversation can spiral any further. “Enough,” he says, his voice low and commanding. I freeze for a moment,
