Claimed by the scarred Alpha

MARGAUX

The servants moved in again once they realized the conversation was over. They dressed me with the same careful hands and averted eyes. The fabric was heavier than it looked. It clung where it shouldn’t.

When they laced me in, I felt it settle around me like a statement I’d never agreed to make.

No one explained it, but everyone knew what it meant.

A red gown wasn’t chosen. It was declared.

It said I wasn’t a bride of love but of victory. It said I’d been taken, not given. It said the man waiting for me hadn’t won my heart. He’d claimed my body, my life, and my future.

When I finally stood before the mirror, I didn’t recognize myself.

The girl looking back wore conquest like a second skin. She looked older. Harder. Beautiful in a way that felt more like a weapon than a blessing.

Shanelle made a small, broken sound behind me.

I reached for her hand without looking away from my reflection. It was the only steady thing in the room.

The journey to the ceremony passed in a blur. The limousine moved smoothly through Beaumont, too quiet for something carrying a bride to her own undoing. No one spoke. Not the driver. Not the guards seated at the front. Not even Shanelle beside me.

Outside, the estate grounds had shifted into something unrecognizable. Cars lined the approach to the ceremony hall, sleek and dark, each marked with the Valcourt crest. They stood out against everything familiar, an intrusion that didn’t bother to hide itself.

The guards were more alert than usual, their eyes scanning every corner as if expecting something to break through at any moment. Even the air felt different, tighter, like the presence of Valcourt had already settled over Beaumont long before the ceremony began.

The hall came into view ahead. Grand, familiar, and yet it felt distant now, like something I no longer belonged to.

My father sat across from me in the limousine, perfectly composed, like this was just another business meeting. Like he hadn’t sold his daughter to avoid war. Like the red dress I wore wasn’t a humiliation he’d enabled.

I didn’t speak to him. There was nothing left to say.

Inside, everything was already waiting.

The ceremony space was filled with Elders, Alphas, and Representatives from different packs that had come not to celebrate but to witness. Conversations hushed as I appeared at the entrance. The shift was immediate and sharp.

Heads turned, and eyes widened.

The red dress did what it was meant to do.

It shocked them.

The murmurs began almost instantly. Low, disbelieving, and curious in the worst way. I heard enough to understand.

"They made her wear red."

"Valcourt’s claiming Beaumont."

My father offered his arm. I took it because refusing would cause more of a scene, and I’d already decided that if I was going to be displayed, I’d do it with my head high.

The aisle stretched longer than it should. Each step I took made it clear I was being watched, and that seemed to make every sound amplified.

Then I saw him.

He stood at the altar, completely still, like he’d been carved into place. The mask was worse up close.

He looked like a dragon wearing a mortal suit.

There was nothing soft about him. Nothing uncertain. He looked like a man who’d already decided how this ended.

For a second, my steps faltered.

Then I forced myself forward.

When I reached him, the space between us felt charged. Not with anything romantic. With recognition I couldn’t quite grasp. Something about him pressed at the edges of my memory, but it slipped away every time I tried to hold it.

I could not bring myself to look away from his eyes.

My father released my arm and stepped back. I was alone now. Completely and utterly alone.

The officiant began speaking. Formal words. Binding words. Ancient in a way that made them feel heavier than they should.

"By blood and by bond, we stand before the law of pack and the will of the Goddess," he said, his voice carrying through the hall. "Today, two territories join as one. Two lines are bound so that strength may answer strength, and no challenge may break what is sealed here."

I repeated what I was told to repeat.

"I, Margaux Beaumont, stand before pack and witness. I give my name, my loyalty, and my life to this union. I bind my wolf to his, and through me, Beaumont stands joined to Valcourt."

My voice sounded steady to my own ears, even if it didn’t feel that way inside.

The officiant turned.

"Do you, Alpha Théo of Valcourt, accept this bond? Do you claim her as your mate, before pack, before blood, and before the Goddess who marks all wolves?"

Then he spoke.

"I do," he said, low and certain. "I claim her. By right of strength, by right of blood, and by the will that placed her before me."

Something in it pulled at me, sharp and immediate. A cadence I’d heard before. A tone that didn’t belong to a stranger. It didn’t make sense. It shouldn’t make sense. I tried to place it, but the moment stretched and slipped, so I couldn’t catch it.

My breath caught. My pulse spiked.

Then came the final moment.

The part no one could avoid.

The officiant’s voice cut through the silence, deeper now, carrying something that felt less ceremonial and more absolute.

"Then let it be witnessed," he said. "Before pack and Goddess, before blood and bone, this bond is sealed. What is claimed cannot be unclaimed. What is joined cannot be undone."

Then after a short pause, he said, "Alpha Théo of Valcourt, convince the Goddess and claim your mate."

He stepped closer.

I felt it before I fully processed it, the shift in his presence, the way the air tightened between us. His hand lifted, and the room quieted further, anticipation sharpening into something almost uncomfortable.

He reached for his mask.

Not fully, but just enough for the edge to be lifted. He wanted me to see him. Only I, for a second, I saw beneath it.

Not the whole face. But I caught a glimpse.

I saw scarred skin. Uneven and looking like it had been burned. And beneath that grotesquery were those beautiful dark grey eyes.

He stepped closer.

Too close for me to think straight.

Instinct moved first. I shifted back, meaning to create space, but the weight of everything around me made it clumsy. My heel caught against the floor, and my balance slipped before I could fix it.

For a brief second, I thought I was going down.

His hand came out fast and caught me, firm enough to stop the fall, steady enough that it didn’t feel like a question.

The moment he touched me, something sharp ran through my body. Not fear. Not surprise either. Something else entirely, something I couldn’t name but felt all the same.

I went still in his hold.

He didn’t let go.

Instead, his grip tightened just enough to pull me forward, closing the space I had tried to create.

I barely had time to register it before his mouth was on mine.

Everything around me faded and was pushed to the edge until all I could focus on was that contact. The heat of it came fast, rising through me in a way that didn’t feel natural. It felt like his mere touch had triggered something.

Something I had felt before.

The bond snapped into place.

My breath caught against his. My fingers twitched where they hovered, unsure whether to push him away or hold on.

My eyes widened as the realization settled in.

What the fuck.