Chapter 236 236
Maurice POV
Terrible timing completely inappropriate but I can’t stop myself from watching the sway of her hips as she walks away. She’s too thin right now, worn down by everything she’s endured, yet her body is unmistakably feminine. Curves where they matter. A soft, rounded ass. Breasts that stir images I shouldn’t be entertaining, not now, not ever but I do anyway.
She may have been running for her life, but there’s still an undeniable grace about her. Class, restraint. A moral backbone that hasn’t been snapped no matter how hard the world tried.
Was she truly Gaston’s daughter?
I wait until she’s gone from the lower level the cells Damien insists on calling the torture rooms. The air down here never quite forgets what’s been done within these walls.
The rogue has been held for weeks now. We caught him trying to flee with Geneviève, and not once has he spoken. Not under interrogation. Not under torture. Silence, no matter the cost.
Once the cell doors are secured, I turn back to him. My wolf surges forward, restless, hungry itching to tear this bastard apart. It takes everything in me to rein it in. This isn’t my pack, and more importantly, he’s still useful. Somewhere inside that skull is the truth about what Bee was put through.
My warriors had wanted to stay. Damien shut that down immediately. I understand why. If something goes sideways, he needs the pack mind-link clear and immediate. No interference. No hesitation.
Still, knowing their Luna was here had my men on edge. They’d demanded the right to protect her, even if only from the shadows. Loyalty like that isn’t given it’s earned.
What I still can’t wrap my head around is how she identified him so quickly. We’d been circling this bastard for weeks, chasing ghosts. The moment she saw him, everything about her shifted. Her posture. Her scent. The way fear and fury collided in her eyes.
My blood had boiled instantly.
Could she be trusted?
My wolf believed she could but it also sensed the damage she carried. A lifetime of manipulation. Lies fed to her until truth and survival blurred together. She’d need time. Patience. Space to see what was real.
“Hey. Wake up.”
I kick his leg. Hard.
He jerks awake with a sharp inhale, yanking on the chains before memory catches up with him. Starvation, dehydration, sleep deprivation they do that to a man.
“What do you want?” he snaps, even managing a growl.
The audacity ignites something vicious inside me.
My hand shoots out, clamping around his throat, lifting him just enough to remind him how fragile his breathing really is. My wolf presses forward, snarling inches from his face.
“You will tell me about her.”
“I won’t say jack shit,” he rasps, scraping together what little strength he has left.
“You fucking will,” I snarl. “She’s mine. You hear me? Mine.”
The thought of her suffering of anyone laying hands on what belongs to me sends my wolf into a frenzy. A firm hand lands on my shoulder, grounding me. One of the guards. A warning.
“Alpha says do what you want,” he says carefully, “but he has to stay alive.”
“Fine.” I grin, slow and sharp. “I can work with that.”
I look back down at the piece of filth chained before me. He helped orchestrate the kidnapping of Aurélie and the twins. Fabrice. Florence. In my mind, he’s already dead. The only question left is how long he gets to breathe.
“Move him.”
One of the guards hesitates. “Alpha?”
“To the wall. Chain him upright.”
This side of me the part that thrives in moments like this isn’t one I enjoy. But I’m an Alpha. And sometimes getting answers means getting ugly.
The moment his back hits the stone, panic floods his eyes.
“If you keep refusing,” I say calmly, “I can start by removing your tongue. Or maybe your balls. I’m feeling surgical tonight.”
I lift a pair of silver scissors, snapping them open and shut, the metallic sound echoing far too loudly in the confined space.
“Why was she locked away?” I ask.
My Alpha command rolls through the air, heavy and absolute. Stéphane because yes, we know his name now starts to tremble. Damien’s IT team will already be tearing through his records.
“Speak!” I roar, slamming him back against the wall, my palm pressed flat to his chest.
He shakes his head, jaw clenched. Stubborn bastard.
“Open his mouth.”
The guards freeze.
“Alpha?”
“You heard me. If he won’t talk, he doesn’t get to speak at all.”
They move in, gripping him, forcing his jaw apart. His tongue is exposed, helpless. I grasp it firmly, positioning the scissors.
The first snip of metal makes him break.
“Wait—wait!” he chokes. “I’ll talk. I’ll tell you everything.”
“Why,” I bark, “was she locked away?”
“Gaston needed her records erased,” he pants. “So no one would ask questions. So she wouldn’t exist on paper.”
I lean closer. “That’s not enough.”
“Money,” he blurts. “Her mother left her money. A lot of it. Gaston’s been using it funding rogue attacks. Me. Geneviève.”
His voice cracks.
“But he betrayed us. Aurélie’s the key now she holds both alliances. And he sold us out.”
I straighten slowly.
He’s finished. He just doesn’t know it yet.