Claimed by the scarred Alpha

ÉTIENNE

There was a pause from me while whoever was on the other end spoke.

"Yes, it’s a young Beta male. Once I deliver him, I’ll receive payment. He’s valuable—healthy, strong, and shows exceptional promise. I won’t be collecting anything less than two million."

The words hit me like ice water. I went still in the backseat, barely breathing. Two million. Collecting.

The call ended. Lucian set his phone down in the cup holder and caught my eyes in the mirror again.

"What was that call about?" My voice came out steady despite the fear crawling up my spine.

Lucian’s smile didn’t waver. "What do you think?"

My hand moved toward the door handle. The child lock immediately engaged with a soft click that might as well have been a gunshot. I yanked on the handle anyway, pulling hard enough to hurt my palm, but the door stayed shut.

"I don’t want to go anymore." The words tumbled out, fast and desperate. "Can you drop me off? Please. Right here is fine. I’ll figure something out."

"I’m sorry, champ." Lucian’s voice stayed pleasant and conversational, as if discussing dinner plans. "Your survival means a payout for me. I’m taking you where someone is paying a lot for you. I hope you understand. It’s not personal—just business."

"You want to sell me."

"Well, at least you’ll be alive." He merged onto a highway, picking up speed. "Which is something you can’t say will happen if you wander around on your own. Think about it practically. This way, you get to live."

Terror flooded through me, sharp and absolute. I lunged forward and grabbed for the wheel, trying to yank it hard enough to send us off the road. Better to die in a crash than whatever he had planned. Better to go out fighting than let him hand me over to people who saw me as merchandise.

Lucian’s hand shot out and grabbed my wrist with strength that shouldn’t have been possible while he was driving. Something hissed near my face. A sweet smell filled my nose, cloying and chemical.

Then my whole body went numb.

My muscles stopped responding. I collapsed against the seat, limbs heavy and useless. I tried to speak, to scream—nothing. My mouth wouldn’t form words. Only my eyes worked, tracking Lucian as he calmly returned both hands to the wheel and continued driving as if nothing had happened.

"There we go," he said cheerfully. "Much better. Just relax. It’ll be over soon."

The memory released me.

I stood in the wedding hall, staring at Lucian Moreau’s extended hand. That same smile. That same pleasant tone. Seven years had barely changed him. He still looked like someone’s favorite uncle, someone you’d trust with your life.

My vision went white around the edges. My pulse hammered so hard I could feel it in my throat. The room tilted and spun. I couldn’t breathe properly. Each inhale felt too shallow, not enough air reaching my lungs.

The bond with Margaux pulsed with confusion and concern. She could feel something was wrong even through my shields, which I was still actively keeping up even now. But it was becoming clear that I couldn’t deal with that right now. I couldn’t deal with anything except the panic clawing up my chest.

"Theodore."

Séverine’s voice cut through the noise in my head. She materialized at my side, her hand closing around my elbow with gentle firmness.

"Something important came up," she said smoothly, addressing the crowd that was my new family more than me. "Come with me."

I did not fight her.

She guided me toward the exit. My legs moved on autopilot. I barely registered the curious looks from wedding guests or the confused expression on Margaux’s face as I left her standing there.

The cool night air hit me as soon as we stepped outside. It should have helped. It didn’t.

My breathing came faster, shorter, each gasp failing to fill my lungs properly. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. My hands shook violently. The mask pressed against my face, suffocating and tight, trapping me in darkness just like that car had trapped me seven years ago.

Séverine pulled me around the corner of the building where no one could see. Her arms came around me, holding tight, anchoring me to the present.

"It’s fine," she said quietly. "You’re fine. Nobody is coming to hurt you."

The words penetrated slowly. I focused on her voice, on the steady rhythm of her breathing, on the way her hands pressed against my back with reassurance instead of restraint.

My lungs started working again. Air came easier. The white edges of my vision receded. I sagged against her, exhausted from fighting my own body’s response to seeing the man who’d sold me like livestock.

"I didn’t expect that sicko to be here." The confession came out rough and broken.

Séverine’s hand moved to the back of my head, holding me close. "Don’t worry about it. You have them now. You’ll have their heads soon enough."

She was right. I’d planned this for years. Lucian might have walked free after what he’d done to me, might have continued playing the role of beloved uncle and trusted Gamma, but not for much longer.

I’d survived the trafficking ring. I’d clawed my way out of that grave. I’d built myself into someone strong enough to destroy everyone who’d hurt me.

Soon, I’d make Lucian Moreau pay for every second I’d spent in that hell.

But first, I needed to get through this wedding without having a complete breakdown in front of hundreds of witnesses.

I straightened slowly, pulling back from Séverine’s embrace. My breathing had steadied. The panic had receded to something manageable, tucked away where it couldn’t control me.

"Better?" she asked.

I nodded and removed my mask long enough to wipe the sweat from my face. The scars caught the moonlight, a reminder of what I’d done to myself to escape being sold again.

Better to be worthless than owned.

Better to be ruined than a prize.

Séverine studied my face with the kind of understanding that came from knowing someone’s worst moments. "We should go back before people start asking questions."

"Give me a minute."

She nodded and stepped back, giving me space while staying close enough that I knew she was there if I needed her.

I focused on breathing. On remembering that I was Theodore Valcourt now, Alpha of a pack that rivaled Beaumont’s strength. I wasn’t that terrified fifteen-year-old boy anymore. I had power. Resources. An army at my back.

Lucian couldn’t touch me now.

But I could touch him.

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