Claimed by the scarred Alpha

CHRIS

My sister stood beside me, her fingers interlaced with mine, her face pale and drawn. She’d been crying recently; I could see the tracks of tears on her cheeks, the redness around her eyes. She wore the same clothes she’d had on yesterday, wrinkled and slept-in, and her hair was coming loose from its braid.

"Chris," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rising noise of the chamber. "What is going on?"

I squeezed her hand, trying to project confidence, trying to look like the protective older brother she still believed me to be, at least part of the time. "I’m fixing things," I said. "I’m making it right."

"Margaux just called me," Shanelle said, and her eyes searched my face with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. "She told me what you’re doing. She told me about the things Armand is saying, the lies he’s telling about her mate, about Valcourt, about her being threatened. She says you’re responsible for this. She says you told them she was being abused, that she wanted to be saved and the true identity of her mate."

It did hurt that Shanelle did not even feel a tiny bit betrayed by her friend keeping secrets. Like the true identity of her mate.

"She does want to be saved," I said, keeping my voice low, aware that we were standing in a room full of wolves with enhanced hearing. "She just doesn’t know it yet. She’s confused, Shanelle. She’s been manipulated. You know how she is, how she tries to make the best of impossible situations. She’s convincing herself she’s happy because the alternative is admitting she’s trapped."

Shanelle shook her head, her grip on my hand tightening until it hurt. "No. No, Chris, she’s not confused. She’s clear. She’s clearer than I’ve heard her in years. She says you’re building a war based on lies, that Étienne isn’t what you’re claiming he is."

"Etienne," I said, tasting the name like poison. "You mean the rogue? The infiltrator?"

"I mean the boy she fell in love with when she was young," Shanelle said, her voice rising slightly, drawing a glance from one of the nearby sentinels. "We know him. From all her stories. The Beta who was excommunicated from Valcourt. The one she thought was dead. Do you know what you’ve started, Chris? Do you understand that the man you’re trying to destroy is the same man she’s been mourning for half her life?"

I felt something cold slide down my spine, but I pushed it away. Lies. More lies, more manipulation, more of Étienne’s careful mental entery. "That doesn’t change what he’s doing now," I said. "It doesn’t change that he married her under false pretenses, that he’s using her for revenge."

"It changes everything," Shanelle said, her eyes welling up again. "It means she chose him. She chose him then, and she’s choosing him now, and you’re trying to burn down the world to separate them. This isn’t about saving her, Chris. This is about your unrequited love. This is about you wanting to take her by force because she never wanted you back."

"Shut up," I said, my voice coming out sharper than I intended.

"No," Shanelle said, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "I won’t shut up. Not this time. I’ve watched you obsess over her for years, watched you convince yourself that you’re the only one who truly sees her, the only one who deserves her. It was cute then and harmless. But not anymore. Now... it’s sick, Chris. It’s twisted. And now you’re going to get hundreds of people killed because you can’t accept that she doesn’t want you."

"I am saving her," I said, the words coming out through clenched teeth. "You don’t understand. You weren’t fully there. You didn’t see what I saw. The way he looked at her, the way he controlled her. She’s a prisoner."

"I was there," Shanelle said, her voice breaking. "I saw exactly what you saw, and I saw something else too. I saw him stand up for her when Dorian treated her like property. I saw him take her side when you were too busy shooting your mouth off and getting her in trouble in enemy walls. And yes, I remember why she suffered those insults in the first place, Chris. She suffered them because you don’t know when to shut up. Because you had to covertly declare your undying love in the middle of a diplomatic dinner and humiliate her, even as she protected you... us."

The words hit like a physical blow. My hand moved before my brain could stop it, cracking across her face with a sound that seemed to echo in the suddenly quiet room.

Shanelle stumbled back, her hand flying to her cheek, her eyes wide with shock. The sentinels along the wall turned toward us, their bodies going alert, hands moving toward weapons. My father stood up from his chair, his face draining of color.

I didn’t hesitate. I couldn’t afford to. I raised my voice, projecting authority I wasn’t sure I had, claiming space in the room through sheer volume. "Sentinels!"

They moved toward us, three of them, their expressions hard and professional. I pointed at Shanelle, who was still staring at me with betrayal written across every feature of her face. "My sister is best friends with Margaux," I said, loud enough for Armand to hear, loud enough for the entire council to witness. "She cares for the Luna deeply, but that care makes her a risk. She just approached me after falling for propaganda, claiming Margaux is fine, claiming the rogue is innocent. She’s compromised. She’s emotional like the woman she is. I’m certain she will divulge sensitive information to the enemy if she’s allowed to walk free, or she’ll try to contact Margaux and warn her of our movements."

"Chris," my father said, his voice strangled. He turned to Armand, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "Alpha Armand, I assure you that will not happen. We will ensure that Shanelle is contained. We will handle this internally, as a family matter."

Armand raised his hand, cutting my father off with a single gesture.

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