Claimed by the scarred Alpha

MARGAUX

"I came from a healer family. We trained acolytes as a matter of course. It was expected of anyone who showed aptitude."

"And now?"

"Now I have a wellness clinic that serves humans who think lemon balm tea solves problems slightly bigger than what lemon balm tea can solve." A dry note colored her voice. "Those days are behind me."

"Doesn’t seem entirely behind you," I said, glancing at her, "given you just spent the last ten minutes correcting my technique like you’ve done this a thousand times before."

She let out a short laugh at that, surprised out of her, like I’d caught her doing something she hadn’t meant to be caught doing.

"Perhaps not entirely."

I smiled and focused back on my palm.

The light came faster this time, blooming gold across my skin with none of the effort the first attempt had required, and I killed it again the second I registered the pride trying to sneak into my chest.

Ophelia’s eyebrows lifted slightly.

"And you also happen to be a terrific student," she said. "That was quicker than I expected."

"Guess I had a good teacher."

"Do not get used to hearing that from me."

I laughed, and for one strange, suspended second, standing in her backyard with grass staining the hem of my clothes and gold light still humming faintly under my skin, everything happening in Valcourt felt very far away.

Ophelia glanced toward the house.

"We should head back inside," she said. "Perhaps Arania has found a way to fix your friend."

The moment she said it, the strange peace of the backyard evaporated, replaced by the tight, familiar worry that had been sitting under my ribs since that morning.

"I do hope so," I said.

We walked back through the door together, the warmth of the house settling over me the way it had the first time I’d stepped inside, and I found Arania still hovering above Prim’s trembling blob exactly where we’d left her, her wings folded low with the particular stillness of someone deep in concentration.

"I’m sorry," Arania said, without turning. "But I still need time. I don’t know where the hell she could be. Wherever it is, it’s dense. Almost impenetrable." She shook her head slightly. "I know I can break through it. I just need time I don’t currently have with you three about to leave."

She whizzed around to face me, hovering directly in front of my eyes.

"I don’t know if this is something you’d even consider," she said, "but if she could stay here for a while, I would have the time I need to work on this properly."

I looked at Prim.

At the shapeless, colorless mass she’d become, from a living breathing Omega with aspirations to a vengeful ghost and even at that, something cruel was still done to her. It made my stomach turn.

It wasn’t a difficult choice.

Prim couldn’t protect anyone like this. She could barely protect herself in this state.

"It’s fine," I said. "Once she’s restored, she can find her way back to us."

"Are you sure about that?" Laurent asked from behind me, his voice careful in the way it got whenever he thought I was making a decision too fast.

"She’s not useful to anyone in this state," I said. "Not even herself. If Séverine attacked right now, we’d be sitting ducks with a houseplant for backup."

Laurent didn’t argue further, though the line of his jaw stayed tight.

Across the room, the head healer waved his sister over, and I understood the visit was drawing to a close. He held out the bag of herbs he’d brought, and Ophelia crossed to take it from him with the ease of someone accepting something entirely ordinary.

Before I could fully turn toward the door, Arania darted in front of me again.

"Before you leave," she said, "I have something for you."

She pressed a small, cold kiss against my cheek, and the second her lips touched my skin, an image flooded through my mind, sharp and sudden. A grove, dense and green, thick with the kind of energy I was only beginning to learn how to sense, some of it warm and inviting and some of it curling at the edges like smoke.

I blinked, and the image was gone.

"What was that?" I asked.

"A grove," Arania said, "swarming with both positive and negative energy in equal measure. If you’re hunting for a superior spirit, that’s where you’ll find your pick of the litter. Someone there is bound to take an interest in a whisperer as fresh and unclaimed as you."

"Thank you," I said, and I meant it more than the words managed to convey. "Really."

"Rubbish," Arania said, waving a tiny hand. "Thank you." She glanced toward Ophelia, who was now deep in some quiet argument with her brother about the correct dosage of one of the herbs he’d brought. "She likes to pretend she’s above all this. A cold-hearted woman who left pack life behind and never looks back." Arania’s voice softened. "But she’s a softie underneath it. She liked meeting another whisperer. More than she’ll ever admit to you."

"Same goes for me," I said, watching Ophelia gesture sharply at her brother, clearly losing whatever point she was trying to make. "I liked meeting her too."

Arania whizzed back toward Prim without another word, resuming whatever careful, invisible work she’d been doing before we interrupted her.

Laurent came to stand beside me, and something in the set of his shoulders told me before he even opened his mouth that whatever he was about to say wasn’t good news.

"There’s something you should know," he said.

"What?"

"Étienne sent me a message a little while ago." He hesitated, just long enough that my stomach had already started sinking before the words even landed. "Your mother is at Valcourt."

The warmth from Ophelia’s backyard drained out of me instantly, replaced by something a great deal colder.