Claimed by the scarred Alpha

ÉTIENNE

She reached behind her and dragged Margaux forward. Margo was unconscious, and her limbs were loose in a way that made my chest seize.

Séverine dropped her onto the floor in front of us like she was setting down luggage.

"I called you here on purpose because I just need you to see something," Séverine said.

I threw myself against the invisible barrier again, and again, my shoulder screaming with each impact, accomplishing absolutely nothing except bruising myself against a wall I couldn’t see or break.

I forced myself still.

I made myself look at her instead, really look, and buried every ounce of rage beneath something softer, something I hated putting on but understood might be the only weapon I had left in this particular moment.

"Look at me, Séverine."

Her eyes flicked toward mine.

I softened my voice further, slipping into the register I knew she had always responded to, back when we were young and stupid and this had all felt simpler, before either of us understood what the other was capable of becoming.

"You don’t have to do this."

Her expression shifted, barely, but I caught it.

So I pressed.

"I know why you’re angry."

I let the words settle before continuing.

"And I’m not going to insult you by pretending you have no reason to be."

That was important. Séverine had always hated being told she was irrational. She could tolerate cruelty more easily than condescension.

"I remember what happened. I remember what I said. I remember what you asked me for, and I remember what I did instead."

Her jaw tightened.

Good.

"I remember you."

That one landed differently.

I took a slow breath, forcing myself not to glance at Margaux, not to let my eyes betray what I actually wanted.

"You think I’ve forgotten the girl you were because it was easier for me to hate the woman you’ve become."

I shook my head.

"I haven’t."

I let a little regret enter my expression, carefully measured, just enough to make it believable.

"That’s the part you never understood about me, Séverine. I didn’t stop caring about you because you became dangerous. I stopped letting myself care because I knew exactly what caring about you would cost me."

Her fingers twitched.

I continued before she could speak.

"And maybe that’s what you wanted all along."

I gave her a faint, bitter smile.

"Maybe you wanted me to finally admit that you mattered. Maybe you needed to hear me say that I remembered. That I regretted it. That there was a version of us I still think about when I’m angry enough to hate you."

I watched her carefully.

There.

That tiny fracture.

I stepped closer.

"You don’t have to forgive me."

My voice dropped.

"You don’t even have to believe me."

I paused.

"But don’t let Margaux pay for something that happened between you and me."

Her eyes moved toward Margaux for half a second.

I followed them, then looked back at Séverine.

"This isn’t about her."

I made sure my next words sounded almost like a confession.

"This is about us."

A lie.

Or at least, it had been a lie when I started saying it.

Now I wasn’t entirely certain.

"You’ve spent all this time trying to punish me. Fine. Punish me."

I opened my hands slightly, deliberately exposing myself to her.

"Take whatever you think I owe you. Make me admit it. Make me say every ugly thing you need to hear. But don’t pretend this is about justice."

I let my gaze drop briefly before meeting hers again.

"You don’t want justice, Séverine."

Her breathing changed.

"You want me to choose you."

Silence.

I could almost see the thought take root.

"So make me."

I stepped closer still.

"Put these wards down. Let her go. Then look me in the eyes and tell me what you actually want from me."

I lowered my voice until it was almost private, despite the people around us.

"And if what you want is me, Séverine, stop making me fight you long enough to admit it."

I watched the conflict move across her face.

I hated myself for knowing exactly where to press.

"You’ve already won the part that mattered."

I smiled faintly, sadly.

"You’re standing here with me begging you to stop."

The words were carefully chosen.

Not I am begging you.

You have made me beg.

It gave her power.

It made surrender feel like victory.

"And if you really believe I never cared about you, then prove me wrong."

I held her gaze.

"Let Margaux go."

I swallowed.

"Come back to me."

The last words almost sounded real.

That was the dangerous part.

Because for one terrible second, I wasn’t sure whether I was manipulating Séverine anymore, or whether I was manipulating myself.

To think I had lost that fight more than once... it terrified me more than the shield currently keeping me from reaching her throat.

Séverine rose slowly and walked toward me, stopping just on the other side of that invisible wall, close enough now that I could see every detail of her face, could see how badly she wanted every word I’d just said to be true.

"I know," she said softly. "But soon you won’t have time to feel guilty about any of it."

"What do you mean?"

"I’ll become her."

The words didn’t make sense at first, hanging there in the air between us like something my brain refused to fully process.

"What?" I scoffed.

"I will become her," Séverine repeated, and something in her voice had shifted into a certainty that chilled me worse than anything else she’d said tonight. "That is how much I love you, Étienne. You will have us both. My devotion. Her face."

"You’re insane," I said, and I lunged forward again, hands reaching for her throat despite the shield, despite knowing it would fail exactly the same way it had every other time.

It failed exactly the same way.

"Goddess," she said, watching me strain uselessly against the barrier, something almost hurt flickering across her expression. "Were you actually trying to deceive me just now?"

"Leave her out of this!"

"How can I?" Her voice rose slightly, cracking at the edges. "She is the entire reason we became this mess in the first place. But I love you enough to make this sacrifice regardless." She tilted her head, studying my face like she was memorizing it. "I will become her, and you will see it happen. I want you to see it. Every second of it. And then I will wipe it from your mind."

"What?"

"I haven’t even reached the best part yet," she said, almost delighted now, the words spilling out of her with the particular enthusiasm of someone finally sharing a plan they’d spent far too long refining alone. "When I take her body, when I take everything she will ever be, I will wipe your memory clean afterward. You will retain just enough information to see my discarded body as the enemy." She smiled, and it was the worst thing I’d seen all day, worse than the blood, worse than the man behind the counter. "A body she will then inhabit. And you, Étienne, will be the one to end her life with your own hands."