Claimed by the scarred Alpha

MARGAUX

I walked to him. My steps felt uncertain. Like I was crossing a distance that might disappear if I moved too quickly.

"I thought you were going to refuse."

"I do care about Laurent."

The admission came grudgingly. Like he resented needing to say it out loud. But truth rang through the words despite his tone.

"He seems on edge. So I am worried."

I studied his masked face and tried to read emotion in the carved features that gave nothing away.

"If I tell you..." I swallowed hard. "Will you release Chris?"

Étienne’s posture shifted. I did not quite get the read I wanted from his body language. I did not know if what I got was an agreement or a refusal.

"I promise he will not pull any shit." The words rushed out. "The sentinels, too. They came here because of your lie. So... I think...They at least deserve better than cages."

"That will be all?" His head tilted slightly. "Would it not be smart to use this opportunity to protect yourself against me?"

The question made my throat tighten. He was giving me an opening, a chance to bargain for my own safety, to secure promises that might keep me sane in whatever game we— he was playing.

But that was not what I wanted. I did want to show him that I meant what I said in the infirmary.

But even if I said that outright even now, I doubted he would buy into my words. He seemed so set on making it a steel wall when it came to me. Could I even blame him for that?

"Is justice not what you want?"

The deflection felt weak even as I said it. But I pushed forward before he could call me on it.

"I know you do not actually intend to hurt me." I met his gaze through the mask. "You are just angry. And given everything you have been through, it is understandable."

His spine went rigid. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"I really mean it when I say I want to hold your hand." The confession escaped before I could stop it. "So I hope you still meet me halfway. Even if you will not, I will keep trying to reach you."

I watched his throat work. He swallowed hard behind the mask. The movement looked involuntary. Like some part of him wanted to respond, but didn’t know how.

"If that will be all..."

"You must go to the healer too." I cut through his words. "For a checkup for your leg."

Silence stretched between us. I thought he might refuse and tell me to mind my own business, then limp away without another word.

"Are you that worried about me?" he said instead.

The tease in his tone caught me off guard. But something underneath it felt genuine. Like he actually wanted to know the answer.

"I cannot help it."

The truth came easier than expected. I looked down at the red thread connecting our hands. At the proof that there was something neither of us wanted to acknowledge.

"Maybe it is the memory of old times or the mate bond..." I paused. "But I do not want you to get hurt."

I lifted my gaze back to his masked face.

"You would understand that, would you not?" I let the implication hang between us. "Given the height you threw yourself from to protect me."

He scoffed. The sound came sharp and dismissive. But he didn’t deny it. He didn’t try to explain it away as anything except what it was.

"Well then." His voice steadied. "I will give the order for his release, and you can be his babysitter."

Relief flooded through me. Chris would be free. The sentinels, too.

"What if the magic user attacks me again?"

The question came before I could think better of it. Fear prickled along my spine. The memory of those invisible hands around my throat made breathing difficult.

"Oh, I was thinking since you like him so much, he could protect you." He retorted, breaking my train of thought. "Using you as bait to get him here was easy enough. I am sure he will be a good protector."

The casual cruelty in his tone made my chest tighten.

But then... Clarity found me.

Was he jealous?

The realization hit me suddenly.

This wasn’t about Chris’s capabilities. This was about the way I’d touched him. The way we’d clung to each other.

Even though he had his shields up, I could tell. I saw it in his eyes. I found it amusing. I would not lie.

"If I did not know better..." I kept my voice light despite the way my heart hammered. "I would think you were jealous."

He stopped walking. His entire body went still.

"Please." The word came cold. "Do not flatter yourself."

But he’d stopped. That meant something even if he’d never admit it.

"I said I would think..." I cleared my throat. "Not that I was certain."

The distinction felt important. A way to give him an out without taking back what I’d observed.

But given his response, I was curious how far I could push his buttons.

"If you ask me now, your response to that makes me wonder even more if I am right."

His head turned slowly toward me.

Even with the mask hiding the majority of his face, I felt the weight of his stare settle over my skin like heat.

Dangerous....That was the first thought that crossed my mind.

Not because I thought he would hurt me. No, this felt worse somehow. More intimate than violence. Like I had stepped too close to something buried under layers of control, and now he was deciding whether or not to let me see it.

"You enjoy provoking people, do you not?" he asked quietly.

"I only point out what I notice."

"And you notice jealousy?"

I shrugged lightly, pretending indifference I did not feel. "You reacted strongly enough."

A humorless laugh escaped him.

"You think too highly of your importance in my life."

"Yet..." I stopped before I crossed that road. It was so on the tip of my tongue. But I had to force myself to swallow, even if my wolf and I did want to bite.

"Yet what?" He pushed.

"I will follow you to the healer." I changed the direction of the conversation. "So Chris can wait a bit."

I saw the look in his eyes. He did want to press me more about what I was going to say, but decided against it at the last minute.

"Why?" He said, instead, as he turned to look at me fully.

Confusion bled through his carefully controlled tone.

"Because I have my side of the bargain to keep."

Understanding flickered across what I could see of his expression: His eyes.

"Laurent." He said it as if he’d forgotten. "Oh."

We passed the sentinels’ cells. They watched us with expressions ranging from confusion to hope. I didn’t stop to explain. I didn’t want to promise freedom before Étienne gave the official order.

The stairs leading up from the basement felt steeper than when I’d come down. Each step required more effort than it should have. My body protested the exertion, but I forced myself to keep pace with Étienne’s uneven gait.

"Well?" He broke the silence once we’d reached the main floor. "What about Laurent?"

"You are posing as Theodore now, are you not?"

He stopped and turned to face me with enough force that his ankle must have screamed. But his attention had gone completely focused. Sharp in ways that made my pulse quicken.

"You do not have to answer." I raised one hand. "I already know."

"Laurent and Theodore were..." I paused, trying to find gentle words for what I’d witnessed in the infirmary. "They were—"

"Lovers." Étienne finished the statement.

"I did not know that." He looked away from me and toward the windows that showed the afternoon sun. "He never did share it with me."

The admission felt vulnerable and more honest than anything he’d said to me before.

"He is surprised Laurent shared that with you." His gaze cut back to me. "I do not understand it or why, but my Beta does seem to like you."

"Perhaps he does care about me."

The suggestion came softly and uncertainly. Like I was still testing whether affection from anyone in this territory that was directed my way could be genuine.

I sighed. The weight of what I was about to say pressed against my chest.

"But he did not tell me this."

Étienne’s head tilted slightly. Questions were written in the angle of his masked face.

"I am about to sound very crazy." I met his gaze. "But you need to believe me."

A light chuckle escaped him. The sound felt wrong and far too casual for the tension humming between us.

"Okay."

"I saw him..." The words stuck in my throat. "...Theodore."

Silence stretched. Heavy and loaded with implications I couldn’t name.

"You saw him?" Étienne’s voice had gone flat. "I am not sure if you know this, but... Theodore happens to be dead."

"I know." I forced myself to hold his gaze. "It was his ghost I saw."

He stared at me through the mask. The carved stag features gave nothing away, but I could see his eyes and the way they’d narrowed. Even the way he was processing what I’d just confessed.

Calculation flickered across his expression. Then something that might have been concern or maybe just suspicion that I’d lost my mind entirely burned through.

I wondered for a millisecond if he was going to believe a single word I’d said after that.