Chapter 26: Black box 1
ÉTIENNE
Trigger Warnings:
Mentions of sexual violence (in trauma flashbacks), past abuse, PTSD and trauma responses, dissociation and hallucinations, emotional distress, power imbalance, captivity references, and non-consensual touch
I thought it would be easier.
The hallway stretched ahead of me, dimly lit and silent. My footsteps echoed against marble floors. Each step carried me further from the room where I’d left her, and the distance should have brought relief. It didn’t.
I’d enjoyed parts of it. The shock on her face when the dress came apart. The way her hands had trembled while she tried to hold the fabric together. I’d wanted to do worse. So much worse. The ideas had circled my mind like vultures, each one darker than the last.
But I couldn’t.
My hand curled into a fist at my side. I’d walked out instead, abandoning the scene before I could follow through on any of the scenarios I’d planned for years. The ones I’d refined and perfected during those long nights when sleep wouldn’t come and memories pressed too close.
Something felt wrong. Off. Like a discordant note in a familiar melody that I couldn’t quite place.
I needed to crush it. Whatever this feeling was, I had to kill it before it took root.
The bond hummed beneath my skin. It was a faint stupid vain thing, but somehow persistent. I could feel her through it now that my shields had shattered earlier. She was terrified and most of all, she was ashamed.
The confusion of why that even mattered to me tasted bitter on my tongue. After all, the emotions weren’t mine.
Yet... inflicting that small amount of suffering had nearly destroyed me.
My jaw clenched. This was unacceptable. I’d survived worse than a crying girl in a torn dress. I’d endured years of actual torture. Her tears shouldn’t affect me at all.
Maybe I should just reject her. Sever the bond completely and be done with that tiny complication.
That had to be the reason.
My wolf stirred. The response came swift and absolute. No.
I stopped walking. The corridor suddenly felt too narrow. Too confining. My wolf had been silent for most of the day, content to let me handle things. Now it pushed back with force that rattled through my bones.
The animal only cared about its lust. About the biological imperative to claim and keep what belonged to it. There was nothing more sophisticated in its head than base instinct.
I feel what you feel. My wolf’s voice rumbled through my mind. Stop projecting your own fears onto me.
I ignored it, shoved the presence back down where it belonged and kept walking. My wolf could protest all it wanted. I didn’t care about Margaux anymore. That part of me had died in a cell years ago when she’d stood on the other side of the bars and severed our connection without a second thought.
The memory should have strengthened my resolve. It didn’t.
I turned the corner and nearly collided with an Omega carrying linens. She jumped back, her eyes widening when she recognized me. Her gaze dropped to the floor immediately.
"Alpha Theo, Forgive me." She said with her head down.
Her presence made me think about Margaux for a hot minute. She was in my room and not the room stationed for her. She would need a change of clothes.
Fuck... Why did I even care?
The question surfaced before I could stop it. Margaux could sleep naked for all it mattered. Could freeze in that empty room. It wasn’t my problem what she wore or didn’t wear.
Except it somehow was. It bothered me. Even if it was just my wolf playing games with my head.
The focus however was... This Omega could help.
"Go to my quarters." The command came out rougher than intended. "The new girl might need your help. She has nothing to wear."
The Omega nodded quickly. Her hands clutched the linens tighter.
"In fact, you’ll be stationed there now."
Another nod came from her and then she scurried past me down the hallway without a word, disappearing around the corner I’d just come from.
I continued toward Séverine’s room. The familiar route should have calmed me. It didn’t.
Her door appeared at the end of the hall. I raised my hand and knocked twice. Soft sounds came from inside. Thye sounded like footsteps and it was confirmed that she was awake and at the door when I heard the click of a lock.
Séverine opened the door. Her hair was mussed from sleep. She wore a silk robe that hung loose on her shoulders. Her eyes found mine, and concern flickered across her features.
"I hope I didn’t disturb you."
"No." She stepped back to let me enter. "You could never."
I walked past her into the room. It smelled like lavender and vanilla. Familiar scents that usually brought comfort. Tonight though, they felt cloying.
"Is something wrong?" Séverine closed the door behind me. The lock clicked into place. "You are not in your mask."
"No."
I moved to her bed and sat on the edge. My hands went to my tie, loosening the knot that had been strangling me all evening. The silk slid free. I dropped it on the nightstand.
Séverine settled beside me. Close but close enough to not touch. "Is she in your room?"
"Yeah."
"And she knows who you are now?"
I nodded. The conversation in my quarters played back through my mind. Margaux’s face when I’d removed the mask. The way she’d gasped like I’d struck her. How her hand had reached toward my ruined face before I’d jerked away.
"How did she react?"
A scoff escaped before I could stop it. "She had the audacity to defend herself. Like she did nothing wrong."
The words started pouring out then. I told Séverine about the recognition in Margaux’s eyes. How she’d thrown herself at me in the car like we were reuniting lovers instead of enemies bound by a vengeful contract.
"She actually hugged me." I shook my head. "Said she was grateful I survived. Can you believe that?"
"What did you do?"
"Shoved her off." The memory brought a flicker of satisfaction. "She looked so confused. Like she couldn’t understand why I wasn’t grateful for her concern."
Séverine’s expression remained neutral. Patient. She knew better than to interrupt when I was like this.
"Then in the driveway, when you kissed me, I felt her shock through the bond. Pure disbelief that I’d married her and already had someone else." I laughed. The sound came out dark. "She actually asked me to drive her home. Like she could just walk away from the contract."
"And when you got her alone?"
"She tried to defend her family. She said the elder’s circle was never wrong. That my father deserved what he got because he was a traitor." My hands curled into fists against my thighs. "She’s been living her perfect life all these years, convinced justice was served."
"What did you tell her?"
"The truth. That this is about revenge. That she’s phase one." I met Séverine’s eyes. "She had the nerve to act surprised. To claim she didn’t deserve it."
"Did she cry?"
"Like a fucking child." The venom in my voice should have felt satisfying. It didn’t. "I will admit I relished it. A lot. The effontery that she had to try to convince me to understand that she was just sixteen. That she didn’t understand what was happening."
Séverine’s hand found my shoulder. "And what did you say?"
"That I was a child too." The words came out quieter now. "That she got to stay privileged while I got my world burned in front of me."
My voice rose again without permission. I kept talking. About how Margaux had insisted she’d tried to help. How she’d claimed to search for me when she got older. The pathetic defense that her mother had forced her to reject me.
Each word carried venom I’d been storing for years. But underneath the hatred, something else seemed to thread through. Something that felt uncomfortably like... I refused to ponder on it. Goddess forbid the bond try and succeed to override my brain and convince me she mattered.
She didn’t. She couldn’t.
"It’s alright." Séverine’s hand found my shoulder. Her touch was gentle, grounding. "You shouldn’t stress over her. After all, you have infinite days to make her suffer."
She leaned in. Her lips pressed against mine. Soft and familiar. I allowed it. I kissed her back even as my wolf snarled in protest. We should only be doing this with our mate. The thought came from somewhere primal and insistent.
I shoved it down and forced myself to focus on Séverine. On the warmth of her body against mine. On anything except the pull of the bond trying to drag me back down the hallway.
Her fingers slipped between the buttons of my shirt with an ease that should have grounded me. She had done this before, enough times that my body should have known the rhythm of it, should have leaned into it instead of bracing. One button, then the next, until the fabric loosened and fell open, and the air against my chest felt sharper than it should have.
She didn’t stop kissing me while she worked. Her mouth stayed on mine, warm and certain, like she could keep me anchored there if she just didn’t give me space to think. I tried to meet her halfway, tried to return it with the same familiarity, the same quiet certainty we had built over the past year.
It almost worked.
Then her hand slid lower.