Chapter 277: A promise of gold 1

MARGUAX

I stared at Shanelle’s contact for a full minute before I finally pressed call, my thumb hovering over her name as though delaying the inevitable might somehow make the conversation easier.

She answered on the second ring.

"Margo!" Her voice came through bright and relieved, completely unaware of the storm gathering around us. "I’ve been so worried. Nobody would tell me anything. Is it true? What I’m hearing about your mother?"

"It’s true." My throat tightened around the words, even now. "She’s gone. I’ll tell you everything when I can, I promise. But right now, I need to talk to you about something else. Something urgent."

"Okay." The warmth in her voice vanished beneath immediate concern. "What happened?"

"Your brother."

A pause.

"Chris?" she asked carefully. "What about him?"

"What has he been telling people?"

The silence that followed was brief, but long enough for my stomach to knot.

"What do you mean?"

"My father is assembling a coalition to march on Valcourt as we speak." I was speaking too quickly now, but I couldn’t seem to slow myself down. "He’s telling every pack that will listen that Étienne is holding me against my will, that he’s abusing me, that I’m only defending my husband because I’ve been manipulated into lying for him."

"Margo..."

"And I think..." I stopped, forcing the words out. "No. I know Chris is behind it."

"What?" Her voice cracked with genuine disbelief. "That’s insane. Why would he—"

"Because he’s obsessed with me." The words came out flat. "You know that better than anyone."

Shanelle said nothing.

"He’s taken my father’s grief and turned it into something dangerous," I continued. "He told him I was being abused. He told him Étienne is an Archambault seeking revenge."

"He’s an Archambault?" Shanelle’s voice rose sharply. "The Archambaults? Those ones?"

"Yes... It’s complicated. And yes, there’s history there, but Chris is twisting it into something it isn’t. He’s made my father believe I need to be rescued from my own husband."

"Wait." I could hear the disbelief giving way to realization in her voice. "He actually told your father that Étienne was hurting you?"

"Yes."

"And your father believed him?"

"He believes everything Chris told him." I swallowed hard. "I tried to explain. I tried to tell him that Étienne hasn’t forced me into anything, that I chose this. That I love him. He wouldn’t listen."

There was a faint sound on the other end, footsteps moving back and forth.

"Shanelle?"

"I’m here." Her voice had changed. The shock was still there, but something harder was settling underneath it. "I’m just trying to understand how he got this far without anyone stopping him."

"I don’t know. But it’s gone beyond words now." I closed my eyes and pressed my palm against my forehead. "Three packs have already pledged themselves to my father. They’re preparing to march on Valcourt, Shanelle. This isn’t some stupid rumor anymore. People could die."

"Oh, God."

"I don’t want that." My voice broke despite my attempt to steady it. "I don’t want anyone getting hurt because Chris decided that his obsession with me gives him the right to rewrite my life. I don’t want my father starting a war because he thinks he’s saving me."

"What do you need me to do?"

The question came so quickly that for a moment I couldn’t answer.

"I need you to talk to him," I said finally. "Or your father. Whoever he’ll listen to. Someone who can make him understand what he’s doing before it’s too late."

"Do you really think he’ll listen to me?"

"I don’t know." I let out a shaky breath. "But I have to try something. I can’t reach my father, and I don’t know who else can get through to Chris."

"You’re right."

"Shanelle..."

"I said I’ll help." Her voice was firm now, the uncertainty gone. "I’ll talk to Chris. If he won’t listen to me, I’ll talk to my father or yours. If neither of them listens, I’ll find someone they will."

I closed my eyes, a small measure of relief loosening something in my chest.

"Please," I whispered. "Just make them understand before this gets any worse."

"I will," she said. "I promise you, Margo. I’ll do everything I can to stop this."

"Just be careful," I said. "Please. Whatever you find out, however angry you get, don’t do anything that puts you in danger. I don’t need two people I love caught in the middle of this mess."

"I’ll be fine."

She said it too quickly for my comfort.

"Shanelle."

"I said I’ll be fine, Margo." Something sharper had entered her voice now, an edge I hadn’t heard from her in years. Not since we were teenagers, when she’d nearly gotten herself expelled from a diplomatic function for publicly confronting a visiting Alpha’s son after he groped one of the serving staff.

"You know what actually pisses me off the most?" she continued. "It’s not even that he’s doing this. It’s that I’m sure he’s convinced himself it’s love. I cannot believe I didn’t see it sooner."

"Shanelle—"

"He’s been doing this for years. Dressing up obsession as concern. Jealousy as protectiveness. Control as care." Her voice tightened. "I kept making excuses for him because I thought it was harmless. I thought he’d eventually grow out of it once he realized you didn’t feel the same way."

"Shanelle, I need you to stay calm."

"I am calm."

She sounded anything but.

"I’m serious. I am probably the calmest I’ve ever been in my life, because for the first time I can actually see what he’s been doing without making excuses for him."

"That’s exactly what worries me."

There was a brief silence.

"I need you level-headed," I continued. "Not angry enough to go looking for blood. If you storm in there ready for a fight, you’ll accomplish nothing. They’ll shut you out of the conversation, or worse, you’ll get yourself dragged into whatever mess Chris and my father are already creating."

"I hear you."

She said the words, but there was something in her tone that told me she hadn’t heard a thing.

"Shanelle."

"I said I hear you, Margaux."

A pause followed, brittle enough that I could almost feel the tension through the phone.

"I need to go."

"Please." My voice cracked slightly. "Just talk to them. Reason with them. Don’t storm in there and make things worse for yourself, especially."

"I won’t make things worse."

"That’s not the same as being reasonable."

"Margo."