Claimed by the scarred Alpha

ÉTIENNE

I turned back and looked down at her, every instinct in me screaming to finish what I’d started with my palm against her face earlier, to give her exactly the violence she seemed to think she deserved. I couldn’t make myself do it. Something in me simply refused, no matter how much rage I still had left to spend.

"She’s in the infirmary," I said.

I left before she could say anything else.

I walked the halls back to my room without seeing much of anything around me, my mind still turning over everything she’d confessed, and once I was inside, I paced the length of it twice before I stopped in front of my old mask collection.

My eyes landed on the black one.

I picked it up, turning it over in my hands, feeling the smooth, familiar weight of it settle against my palm the way it used to before I’d learned to live without it.

But I needed it now. I had to revert to my old ways.

A knock sounded at the door.

Laurent stood there when I looked up, one eye still bandaged from the crash, the rest of him bearing more bruises than I’d seen on him in years.

"I heard you were back," he said. "How did you even get here without a vehicle?"

"Magic," I replied.

"I am so sorry, Étienne," he said, his voice dropping. "We tried. We really did."

"I don’t blame you," I meant it too. "I understand. It’s hard to win against something bigger than yourself."

"How is she?" he asked. "Is she safe? Alive?"

"She’s alive," I answered. "And Séverine is dead too."

Laurent studied my face for a long moment.

"Why do I get the feeling something’s still wrong," he said.

"Because it is," I assured him. "She made a deal with the demon. She’s mostly an apathetic witch now. It is almost like a stranger is wearing her face. But we have her. We had to deal with the demon and put her in a coma to bring her back here. But we have her."

"That is horrible but I know we’ll find a way to save her," he promised me, stepping further into the room.

But I didn’t need that.

There was a way out. A difficult way out.

"That won’t be necessary," I said. "I already found one."

Laurent’s eyes dropped to my hands, to the mask still gripped between them.

"What are you doing with that?" he asked.

"The choice in front of me is hard," I said, "and I am full of rage right now. It’s dragging me back toward old habits and I cannot help but give in because I need an outlet to dump all my rage into."

"You want to kill someone."

"It is a scum of the earth," I said. "No one will miss him."

Laurent stepped even closer, his expression tightening.

"How exactly does that save Margaux?" he asked.

I only smiled. "It doesn’t. But it allows me a clear mind to do what needs to save Margaux."

"And what is that?" He pushed further.

I could not tell him. He would never stand for it. He would never let it happen.

"It’s complicated magic," I said. "Don’t worry about it."

"Call the spy," I said. "The one embedded at that new trafficking spot. I need to know if the Beta is there tonight."

"Beta Kayden?"

"Yes." I nodded.

Laurent hesitated for a beat, studying me like he was trying to decide whether pushing further would get him anywhere, then he pulled out his phone without another word of argument. He stepped back toward the doorway, speaking low into the receiver, and I stood there gripping the mask while I waited, my whole body coiled tight enough that I could feel my pulse in my teeth.

He ended the call and then returned to my side.

"Yes," he said. "The bastard’s there."

"Good."

Something in my chest settled at that, dark and satisfied in a way I wasn’t proud of but couldn’t bring myself to fight either.

"Tonight I get payback," I said, "for what he did to me. And I save whoever else is still trapped in that similar hell from ending up with the same scars I’ve been carrying for years. That sick ring burns down tonight too."

"Will you come with me?" I asked. "Like old times."

Laurent’s expression twisted, somewhere between disbelief and worry.

"You sound manic," he said. "You said it yourself. Margaux is unconscious, possessed by some demon’s spell, and you want to go hunt down someone from your past. Rightfully so, given everything, but the timing on this—" He stopped himself, studying me harder. "Why does this feel like you’re saying goodbye or something?"

"Where even is Margaux right now?" he added, before I could answer.

"Unconscious like I said, in the infirmary," I replied. "Thanks to magic."

"Then let’s focus on that," he said. "On her. On figuring this out properly."

"I need this," I countered. "And I need you there with me."

He went quiet, studying my face for a long, uncomfortable stretch.

"Étienne," he said finally, "what are you hiding? What is this actually about?"

I felt something in my throat close up.

"I found out something today," I practically lied. I guess that would qualify as a white lie. "About my family. About why they had to die. And it was for such a—"

I couldn’t finish it.

I set the mask down on the table beside me instead, my hand not quite steady.

"If you won’t help me," I said, "that’s fine. Protect Margaux instead. That matters more anyway."

I did not wait for an answer.

I turned and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me before he could see whatever was showing on my face. I stood under the water and let it run over blood that had long since dried into my skin, scrubbing at grime that didn’t want to come off, while the mask sat waiting for me on the other side of the door.

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