Claimed By The Alpha I Hated

Chapter 12: Face to Face

The question echoed through my mind.

Did I know him?

I stared at the warrior.

Then at Damien.

Then back at the warrior.

"No."

My voice sounded uncertain.

Because the truth was, I wasn't sure anymore.

So many impossible things had happened recently that certainty felt like a luxury.

The warrior shifted nervously.

"He refuses to speak to anyone else."

Damien's expression darkened.

Of course it did.

The Alpha looked like he wanted to personally strangle the messenger.

Unfortunately for him, I wanted answers.

And right now, the messenger seemed to be the only person willing to provide them.

"I want to see him."

"No."

The answer came instantly.

I glared at Damien.

He glared right back.

"That wasn't a request."

"It wasn't permission either."

Ethan sighed.

Apparently, he was already tired of us.

Reasonable.

I was tired of us too.

"He specifically asked for Ava," the warrior said carefully.

Damien's jaw tightened.

For a moment, I thought he might refuse.

Then something surprising happened.

He looked at me.

Not like an Alpha.

Not like a protector.

Like a man who was worried.

Genuinely worried.

My wolf immediately noticed.

"He cares."

"He's stubborn."

"Both can be true."

I hated when she made sense.

Finally, Damien nodded.

"Fine."

I blinked.

That was easier than expected.

"But I'm coming with you."

There it was.

Much more familiar.

The messenger was being held beneath the packhouse.

The lower level was cold and quiet.

Stone walls.

Iron doors.

The air smelled faintly of damp earth.

I hated it instantly.

Damien walked beside me.

Close enough that our shoulders occasionally brushed.

Each accidental touch sent tiny sparks through me.

Extremely annoying sparks.

My wolf seemed delighted.

"Mate."

"Quiet."

Ethan walked ahead.

Leading us toward the final cell.

A guard unlocked the door.

Then stepped aside.

My breath caught.

The messenger sat calmly on a wooden bench.

As though he were visiting friends instead of being imprisoned.

The hood was gone.

For the first time, I saw his face clearly.

Dark hair.

Sharp features.

A long scar running across one cheek.

His eyes immediately found mine.

And smiled.

Not with amusement.

With recognition.

My stomach dropped.

He knew me.

Or at least he thought he did.

The room remained silent.

Then he spoke.

"Hello, Ava."

A strange feeling washed over me.

Not fear.

Not exactly.

Something familiar.

Something I couldn't explain.

"You know me."

The messenger nodded.

"Yes."

My pulse quickened.

"How?"

He studied me carefully.

As though searching for traces of someone else.

Someone he had once known.

"You look just like him."

My father.

He didn't need to say the words.

I knew.

The messenger smiled sadly.

"More every day."

Silence filled the room.

Then Damien stepped forward.

His voice was ice.

"Why are you here?"

The messenger's smile disappeared.

Immediately.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

The two men clearly knew each other.

Or at least knew of each other.

The messenger leaned back.

"Still suspicious, Blackwood?"

Damien's eyes narrowed.

"I asked a question."

The messenger ignored him completely.

His attention remained on me.

"My name is Marcus."

The name meant nothing to me.

But Damien reacted.

A tiny shift.

A tightening of his jaw.

Marcus noticed.

Of course he did.

"You remember me."

Damien didn't answer.

Marcus laughed softly.

"I'll take that as a yes."

I folded my arms.

"I'm getting tired of people talking around me."

That earned a smile from Marcus.

And an almost invisible twitch from Damien.

"Ava."

"No."

I pointed between them.

"You know each other."

Silence.

"There it is again."

Marcus chuckled.

"She's definitely her father's daughter."

For some reason, that made my chest ache.

The messenger's expression softened.

Then he reached into his jacket.

Instantly, every warrior in the room tensed.

Damien stepped in front of me.

The movement was so automatic that I almost missed it.

Almost.

My wolf definitely didn't miss it.

"See?"

"He's overprotective."

"He's protecting us."

"Same thing."

Marcus slowly withdrew a small object.

A photograph.

Old.

Worn.

He held it out.

"Take it."

I hesitated.

Then accepted it.

My hands trembled slightly.

The photograph showed three people.

My father.

A younger Damien.

And Marcus.

Standing together.

Smiling.

My heart stopped.

The room suddenly felt too small.

Too warm.

Too real.

They had known each other.

Not as enemies.

Not as strangers.

As friends.

I looked up sharply.

Marcus nodded.

"We served together."

My father's smile in the photograph looked genuine.

Happy.

Alive.

The sight hurt more than I expected.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Marcus' expression turned serious.

"I came because time is running out."

The room immediately tensed.

Hunters.

The threat hadn't disappeared.

It had only been quiet.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Marcus looked directly at me.

"The Hunters know you're awake."

A chill ran through me.

Awake?

What did that mean?

Before I could ask, Damien stepped forward.

"That's enough."

Marcus met his gaze.

Neither looked away.

The tension between them filled the room.

Then Marcus sighed.

"Still keeping secrets."

Damien's expression hardened.

"Some secrets keep people alive."

Marcus looked at me.

For the first time, I saw genuine sympathy in his eyes.

And somehow...

That frightened me.

Because it looked like he knew exactly what was coming.

And wasn't sure I would survive it.

What wasn't Damien telling me now?