Claimed by the scarred Alpha

MARGAUX

"Exactly." Étienne’s voice stayed flat. "Even if my family was guilty—which they weren’t—I couldn’t be executed or permanently exiled if I had a confirmed mate. Especially not the Alpha’s daughter. That law supersedes everything, even treason."

He took a step closer.

"So your mother ordered you to sever it. To reject me before anyone else could sense what was forming between us." His masked face tilted slightly. "And you did it. Without hesitation. Without even asking why."

The accusation in his tone made my chest tighten.

"I didn’t know." The words tumbled out desperate and broken. "I swear I didn’t understand what I was doing. She just said it would protect our family, that it was the only way to keep us safe from being associated with traitors. I thought—"

"You thought it was about protecting your reputation." He cut through my explanation like it was paper. "About making sure no one could use our connection against the Beaumont name."

"Yes." The admission tasted like ash. "That’s exactly what I thought."

But now the pieces were falling into place with sickening clarity. My mother hadn’t been worried about reputation. She’d been worried about an ancient law that would have forced them to spare Étienne’s life. A law born from a King’s lie but respected across all territories because no one dared question divine bonds.

Had mother known? Had she... No... No...

My mother was not a fucking monster!

The war must have shown on my face. I could feel it—the desperate need to reject what he was saying warring with the horrible logic that kept clicking pieces into place. My hands gripped the windowsill hard enough that my knuckles went white.

Étienne’s head tilted slightly as he watched me. The stag mask made him look otherworldly. Predatory in a way that had nothing to do with violence and everything to do with patience.

"And even that is still not enough to make you wonder."

The words came out soft. Almost sad. Like he’d been hoping for something different and found only disappointment again instead.

"You stand there with all the evidence laid out in front of you. The Omega markers they hid. The bond they forced you to sever. The convenient timing of my family’s execution. The Law of Divine Pairing that would have saved me if you hadn’t rejected me first."

He took a step toward the door.

"And still, you can’t bring yourself to question them. To consider even for a moment that the people who raised you might be capable of the things I’m accusing them of."

"That’s not—" I started, but he cut me off.

"There’s no saving you."

The statement landed with finality. He was not angry. He was not even disappointed anymore. He just seemed... resigned. Like he’d finally accepted something he’d been fighting against.

"You’ll defend them until the very end. Until the evidence is so overwhelming you can’t deny it anymore. And even then, you’ll find ways to excuse it. To justify their actions. To convince yourself that they had good reasons for the terrible things they did."

He moved toward the makeshift door.

"I thought..." He paused with his hand on the frame. "I thought maybe showing you the cracks in their facade would be enough. That you’d start questioning things on your own. That the girl I once knew—the one who questioned everything and refused to accept easy answers—was still in there somewhere."

The door opened under his hand.

"But she’s not, is she? They trained it out of you. Taught you that loyalty to the pack meant accepting their truth without question. That being a good daughter meant never doubting your parents’ wisdom."

He stepped through the doorway.

"Enjoy your cage, Margaux. The one they built for you long before I ever put you in mine."

The door closed behind him with a soft click that echoed through the room like a death sentence.

I stood frozen at the window. My reflection stared back at me from the glass—pale and haunted and trapped between truths I couldn’t accept and lies I couldn’t quite believe anymore.

My mother’s face appeared in my mind. The way she’d looked in that bathroom at the wedding. The tears she’d tried to hide. The way she’d told me to run if I wanted to, like she understood what it felt like to be caged by duty and family obligation.

It didn’t start that way, she’d said about her marriage to my father. Like there was a story there she’d never told. Like her perfect love story had been rewritten just like everything else in Beaumont history.

My hands trembled as I pulled out my phone. The cracked screen glowed under my thumb. My mother’s name sat there in my recent calls. One tap and I could hear her voice. Ask her directly if what Étienne said was true.

But what would she say? Would she admit to ordering me to reject a fated bond to ensure a teenage boy could be executed alongside his family? Would she explain the Omega markers in my blood that shouldn’t exist according to our carefully documented lineage?

Or would she do what she’d always done—smile and deflect and tell me not to worry about things that weren’t my concern? Tell me to trust that the adults knew what was best? That pack law existed for a reason and questioning it only brought chaos?

The phone felt heavy in my hand.

Étienne’s words echoed in my head. There’s no saving you.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I was too broken by years of conditioning to ever see the truth clearly. Too afraid of what I’d find if I pulled back the curtain and looked at the machinery underneath.

But standing here in this gilded cage, trapped between a husband who hated me and a family whose love came with conditions I was only beginning to understand—I realized something terrifying.

I didn’t know which version of the truth scared me more.

The one where Étienne was lying and using my guilt to manipulate me into turning against my family.

Or the one where he was telling the truth, and everything I’d ever believed about the people I loved was built on a foundation of blood and lies.

My finger hovered over my mother’s name.

But before I got the confidence to follow through, Shanelle’s contact name came through.

Without missing a beat, I picked the call and immediately heard her panicked voice.

"Margo..."