Chapter 71: Move that man
ÉTIENNE
"Laurent—"
"Forgive me, but I have said what I have to say, and I have to go."
He cut through my protest with finality that suggested this conversation was over, whether I liked it or not. But before he turned to leave, he added one more thing.
"Watch her." His expression shifted into something that looked almost like concern. "The magic user might attack again."
Then he walked away. His footsteps echoed down the corridor until they faded completely into silence that felt too heavy.
I stood frozen for several heartbeats. Laurent’s words circled through my mind like wolves hunting prey. The implications twisted and multiplied until I couldn’t sort truth from projection and whatever mess of emotions we’d both been carrying.
Movement behind me pulled my attention back. I turned to find Chris wiping tears from Margaux’s eyes with surprising gentleness, given the bars separating them.
My stomach turned.
I forced myself to move closer. Each step sent fresh pain radiating from my ankle, but I ignored it. The physical discomfort felt easier to process than whatever emotional mess Laurent had just dumped in my lap.
"You look deadly pale..." Chris’s voice pulled my focus toward his face.
He stared at Margaux with concern that made something ugly twist in my chest. The kind of attention that spoke of years of friendship... Of shared history that had slowly predated everything that had happened between her and me.
"You have to reject this... Theodore Valcourt." The statement came out firm despite the worry bleeding through his expression. "No matter what fire it brings, Beaumont will handle it. I promise you."
Margaux reached deeper through the bars. Her hand found Chris’s face with familiarity that made my teeth grind. She smiled at him with warmth I’d never seen directed my way.
My wolf stirred restlessly. The observation landed with uncomfortable accuracy. She’d never looked at us like that. Never smiled with that particular combination of affection and trust and something that looked almost like—
I shrugged the thought off before it could complete itself.
"I cannot." Margaux’s voice came out soft but certain.
"Why not?" Chris leaned closer to the bars. "He came here gloating about what he did to you. How he hurt you so bad, he was covered in your blood."
His eyes cut toward me. The loathing written across his features was pure enough to be almost impressive.
"I mean... look at his shirt right now."
I glanced down at the dried blood still staining the fabric. Margaux’s blood. From when I’d carried her back from the garden after the attack that had nearly killed her.
"He was not the one who did that to me."
The defense came quickly. Too quickly. Like she needed Chris to understand this particular truth before he drew the wrong conclusions.
"And that makes it better how?" Chris’s hands gripped the bars harder. "No matter what threats he is throwing at you... do not buy them..."
"I am not buying his shit." Margaux’s tone carried unexpected steel. "I was attacked. But it was by something else."
She paused. Her head turned slightly toward where I stood several feet away.
"He did not hurt me."
Then she looked at me directly. Her eyes met mine with intensity that made my heart thunder against my ribs. The sound echoed too loudly in my own ears. Loud enough that it threatened to bring bile up my throat.
I forced my gaze away from her and looked at the boy instead.
Looking at this Chris felt safer. His murderous expression was easier to process than whatever emotion had just flickered across Margaux’s face.
"What the fuck hurt you then?" Chris’s voice rose with frustration and fear in equal measure. "And why could the terrorist here not protect you against it?"
The accusation landed exactly where he’d aimed it. I felt the sting of failure mixed with rage at being called out for something I’d already been tearing myself apart over.
"She is clearly alive." I kept my tone conversational despite the anger simmering beneath. "I doubt she would have made it in Beaumont."
Chris’s expression darkened further, but I wasn’t done yet.
"It will interest you to know she is the only one being attacked." I let the implication hang between us. "Makes you wonder the kind of enemies that Beaumont has."
I paused long enough to let that sink in before delivering the final blow.
"After all, if it were someone after me, they would go after someone I clearly cherish."
The words came out sharper than I’d intended. I watched Margaux’s reaction from the corner of my eye. I saw how her shoulders tensed and how something passed across her features that looked almost like hurt before she quickly masked it.
My wolf snarled warnings in the back of my mind. I steeled my heart against whatever instinct was trying to make me care about how my words landed.
I didn’t care.
I couldn’t afford to care.
Margaux straightened. Her spine went rigid with the kind of composure that suggested she was forcing herself not to react visibly.
"He told me he has gotten someone to bring the file you want so much." Her voice came out steadier than I expected. "So can you free him now?"
I looked at Chris. In the way his hands still gripped the bars. The murderous intent was written clearly across every line of his face.
"Do you see the way he is looking at me?" I gestured vaguely toward the Beta. "I would be dumb to let him roam these grounds without chains."
"I will vouch for him and the sentinels." Margaux moved closer to the cell. "They came here in response to the lie you peddled through my phone, so you owe them this little dignity."
"What does that mean?" Chris’s attention snapped back to Margaux.
She turned to face him fully. Her expression softened in ways that made my chest constrict painfully.
"I did not send that message to you." She spoke gently despite the weight of what she was revealing. "He did."
Chris scoffed. His mouth opened on what was probably going to be a string of curses aimed directly at me.
Margaux placed one finger against his lips through the bars. The gesture was intimate enough to make my vision narrow.
"I am trying to help you here..." Her voice dropped lower. "Do not make things worse."
Jealousy ignited in my chest. Hot, immediate, and completely unreasonable. I watched her touch him with casual affection. Watched him accept it like they’d done this a thousand times before. Watched them share a moment of understanding that excluded me entirely.
My wolf thrashed against whatever restraint I’d been maintaining.
"They will be free to leave this territory when I get my hands on that file."
The words came out rougher than I’d intended. I turned away before I could do something stupid. Like, demand she stop touching him. Like, ask why she’d never looked at me the way she looked at this Chris.
I headed toward the corridor exit with purpose. Distance felt necessary. Space to breathe without watching them cling to each other through platinum bars.
Footsteps followed behind me. Light and unsteady. I didn’t need to turn around to know Margaux was trailing after me.
"Fuck, can you wait?"
Then I heard a soft gasp, followed by the sound of a body hitting the stone wall.
I spun around fast enough that my injured ankle screamed protest. Pain radiated up my leg, but I ignored it completely.
Margaux had collapsed against the corridor wall. One hand pressed against the stone for support. Her face had gone pale. Her eyes lost focus in ways that suggested she was struggling to stay conscious.
I rushed toward her without thinking. The movement worsened my limp. Each step sent fresh agony through my ankle, but I didn’t slow down. I couldn’t slow down when she looked seconds away from passing out.
"Are you fine?"
My hands found her shoulders. I steadied her before she could slide down the wall completely. The bond pulsed with concern that wasn’t entirely my own. My wolf pushed forward with worry that overrode everything else.
She wasn’t looking at my face, though. Her gaze had dropped lower. Fixed on something below my line of sight.
"Your leg..."
The words came out soft. Confused. Like she was trying to process information that didn’t quite make sense.
I glanced down at where she was staring. At my ankle, which was still swollen beneath my trousers. At the limp I’d been trying to hide since throwing myself through a third-story window to reach her in the garden.
My throat tightened. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to explain that I’d broken bones to get to her. That instinct had overridden self-preservation the moment I’d felt her terror through the bond.
Her eyes lifted back to mine. "Are YOU fine?"