Claimed by the scarred Alpha

MARGAUX

"There you are."

Théo’s voice cut through the noise of the reception hall. He stood close enough that I had to tilt my head back to see his masked face, his presence blocking out everything else. Including Chris.

I tried to step around him. His hand closed around my wrist before I’d moved more than an inch.

"We’re leaving," he said.

The words landed flat and absolute. I blinked at him, certain I’d misheard.

"What?"

"You heard me." His grip tightened fractionally. "The car is waiting outside. We’re going to the Valcourt estate now."

My mind struggled to catch up. "But the reception hasn’t even started. There’s supposed to be dinner and dancing and—"

"I don’t care about dinner." He pulled me toward the exit with the kind of certainty that suggested arguing would be pointless. "You’re my wife now. We go when I say we go."

Heat flooded my face. The dismissiveness in his tone made me feel like a child being told bedtime had arrived, whether I liked it or not. I dug my heels into the floor, the expensive soles of my wedding shoes squeaking against marble.

"I haven’t said goodbye to anyone."

"You don’t need to."

He kept walking, kept pulling me along like I weighed nothing. People were starting to stare. I caught glimpses of their faces as we passed. Confusion. Shock. The kind of whispered commentary that would spread through both packs before we’d even made it to the car.

"Margaux!"

Chris’s voice rang out across the hall. Relief crashed through me so hard that my knees nearly buckled. I turned toward the sound and found him pushing through the crowd, Shanelle right behind him. His face was set in that particular expression I recognized from every time he’d decided something was unacceptable and needed fixing.

Théo stopped walking. His hand remained locked around my wrist, but he turned to face Chris with the kind of stillness that preceded violence.

Chris closed the distance between us in maybe four strides. He looked at me first, his eyes searching my face for something. Permission, maybe. Or proof that I wanted his help.

"Let her go," he said.

Théo laughed. The sound came out cold and mocking. "Or what?"

"She needs to say goodbye to her friends and family properly." Chris’s jaw tightened. "You can’t just drag her out of here like she’s luggage."

"I can do whatever I want." Théo’s voice dropped lower, taking on an edge that made my stomach clench. "She’s my wife now. She doesn’t need permission from Beta trash to go home with her husband."

The insult hit its mark. Chris went rigid, his hands curling into fists at his sides. I felt the tension spike so sharply that it became its own presence in the space between them.

"Chris." I tried to inject calm into my voice even though my pulse was racing. "It’s fine. Really. I’ll call you later and—"

"It’s not fine." Chris didn’t take his eyes off Théo. "This whole thing is a sham. Everyone knows it. You threatened our pack into giving you a bride because you’re too weak to actually fight for territory like a real Alpha."

Oh no.

"Chris, please." I pulled against Théo’s grip, trying to step between them before this escalated further. "Don’t."

But Chris was on a roll now, fury and frustration pouring out in words he’d probably been holding back since he’d heard about the marriage. "You hide behind a mask and political games because you know the truth. No one could ever love you. The only way you can trap a woman is through threats and contracts. You are not strong. No that is not strength. You are a coward."

Théo went completely still. The kind of stillness that felt like the moment right before an avalanche.

"You want to fight?" His voice came out soft and deadly. "I would love that. Name the time and place. But you won’t. None of you will. Because the whole of Beaumont isn’t man enough to face Valcourt head-on."

He released my wrist and took a step toward Chris. I stumbled back, my hand throbbing where his grip had been.

"But you can prove me wrong. I like being proven wrong too. So... Get your Alpha to say the words I need," Théo continued. "Tell him to reject the marriage contract and choose war instead. See how bloody this gets. See how many of your precious border villages burn before sunrise."

Chris moved forward, his shoulder dropping slightly in preparation for a strike. Théo shifted his weight, ready to meet him.

I threw myself between them without thinking. My hands pressed against Chris’s chest, forcing him back half a step. "Stop. Both of you, just stop."

"Margaux, move." Chris’s voice was rough with barely contained rage.

"No." I pushed harder, feeling his muscles bunch under my palms. "Please. This isn’t helping."

"He can’t talk to you like that." Chris’s eyes burned with the kind of protective fury I’d seen a thousand times growing up. "He can’t just take you away from everyone who cares about you and expect us to smile and fucking accept it."

"What choice do I have?" The words burst out sharper than I’d intended. "What choice do any of us have? This is done. It’s over. Fighting him now doesn’t change anything except getting people killed. Which defeats the purpose of why I accepted."

Movement rippled through the crowd around us. Beaumont Sentinels were gathering, their expressions hard as they watched their own Beta’s sons face off against a Valcourt Alpha. I recognized several of them. Guards who’d known Chris since he was a child. Warriors who respected his father’s position as Beta.

They were buying into what he was saying. The tension was spreading like wildfire.

On the other side of the hall, Valcourt Sentinels moved into formation. Their hands went to weapons I knew they carried despite the formal setting. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

This was spiraling out of control.