Claimed by My Five Forbidden Mates

10-LUCIEN

LUCIEN VOLKARIS POINT OF VIEW

The silence that followed Caidy’s retreat felt heavier than it should have. I stared at the door after it slammed shut, my jaw tight as the image of her face flashed through my mind.

I forced myself to look away.

I hadn’t meant for her to hear that. At least, not like that. I had wanted to make my point, not watch her fall apart in front of us. But I meant every word. Caidy was dangerous. She had hurt us before, and I refused to forget that simply because she had shown up at our door with a wounded expression and nowhere else to go. I had seen what she could do when she wanted something. I had seen what happened when she decided someone was worth destroying. Whatever sympathy the others felt for her, I wasn’t going to let it cloud my judgment.

“You crossed the line, Lucien. Go apologize to her.” Malakai’s voice cut through the silence.

I looked at him. “Why the f**k would I apologize to her?”

“Because you called her defective!” Sylas snapped. He slammed his hand against the table, and the sound echoed through the hall. “Do you even understand what you just said to her? She’s the daughter of an Alpha. Everyone expected her to have a fated mate by now. Then her own father tried to marry her off to Corbin. What the hell do you think that tells her?”

I clenched my teeth. I knew exactly what it told her. A noble without a fated mate was already treated differently.People whispered behind their backs. They treated them like something was missing. Some pitied them. Others saw weakness and took advantage of it. I knew the word had hit Caidy where it hurt, but knowing that didn’t make me take it back. If anything, it made me more stubborn about it.

“She’ll survive,” I muttered.

Sylas stared at me like he wanted to hit me. “You really are an asshole sometimes.”

“Watch your mouth,” I warned.

“Oh, please.” He scoffed. “You deserve worse.”

Evren, who had stayed near the hearth, finally spoke. “Technically, Lucien isn’t completely wrong.”

Sylas whipped his head toward him. “Seriously, Evren?”

“I said technically.” Evren kept his voice calm, but his eyes shifted toward me. “Something is wrong with her power. We all felt it. Her magic doesn’t behave like anything we’ve seen before. That’s a fact.”

“That doesn’t make her defective,” Sylas argued.

“I didn’t say it did.”

“But Lucien did.”

I folded my arms. “Because someone had to say it.”

Malakai’s eyes hardened. “And someone should have stopped you.”

That struck a nerve. I pushed away from the table and stepped forward, my anger rising with every second they continued to defend her. “So now I’m the problem? Did any of you forget what Caidy did to us at the academy? Did she apologize when she dragged Knoxx’s past in front of everyone? Did she care when the Council turned against him and treated him like a f*****g monster?”

No one answered.

The silence only made my anger worse. I let out a bitter laugh and shook my head. “Exactly. She never apologized. Not once. She never cared what happened to Knoxx after that. So don’t stand there and tell me I owe her an apology because I said something she didn’t like.”

“She was sixteen,” Malakai said.

His voice was quiet, but it carried more weight than a shout. He rose from his chair and fixed me with a hard stare.

“She was a child, Lucien. You’re not. You’re a grown man who should know better.”

My chest tightened. I hated hearing that from him. I hated even more that a part of me knew he was right.

“She knew what she was doing,” I said, refusing to back down. “She knew exactly how much damage she could cause. Don’t act like she was some innocent little girl who had no idea what her actions would do.”

“And you think that gives you permission to hurt her now?” Sylas asked.

I looked at him. “I think she deserves to hear the truth.”

“What truth?” he shot back. “That she’s unwanted? That she’s broken? That no one will ever choose her?”

The words hit harder than I expected, but I refused to show it.

“I never said—”

“You didn’t have to.” Sylas stepped closer, his eyes burning with anger. “She heard you. And you f*****g knew exactly what you were doing. You saw her face. You knew you had hurt her, and you still stood there.”

I looked away.

Damn him.

I had seen her face.

That was the problem.

I could still picture it too clearly. Her eyes had widened when the word left my mouth, and the anger that usually made her stand tall had disappeared. For a second, she looked lost. Then her eyes had filled with tears, and she had turned away before any of us could see them fall.

I hated that I remembered every second of it.

I hated even more that it bothered me.

“She’s playing all of you,” I said. “That’s what she does. She makes people feel sorry for her, then she uses it against them.”

Malakai’s expression darkened. “You have no proof of that.”

“I don’t need proof. I remember what happened.”

“So do we,” Evren said. “But remembering something doesn’t make every assumption a fact.”

I glared at him. “Are you defending her now?”

“No.” Evren’s voice stayed calm, but his stare hardened. “I’m telling you to stop acting like your hatred makes you incapable of being wrong.”

My hands curled into fists.

Why the hell were they doing this? Why were they defending an Ellis in our own home? Caidy had spent years proving she couldn’t be trusted, yet somehow one wounded look had made them forget everything. I didn’t understand it. I didn’t want to understand it.

“Fine,” I said through my teeth. “Baby her if you want. Protect her. Pretend she’s some poor, helpless woman who has never done anything wrong. But don’t f*****g expect me to play along with this bullshit.”

“She hasn’t done anything tonight,” Sylas said.

“She’s been here less than a week.”

“And you’re already attacking her.”

“She’s already tearing this family apart!”

“No, Lucien.” Malakai’s voice turned cold. “You are.”

The words hit harder than they should have.

I stood there without an answer. My anger still burned through me, but it had lost some of its heat. Something else had taken its place. Something uncomfortable twisted deep in my chest, and I hated the feeling because I knew exactly where it came from.

Guilt.

I looked toward the door again.

Caidy was gone. She had probably already reached whatever room Malakai had given her. Maybe she was crying. Maybe she was angry. Maybe she was sitting there alone and wondering why she had ever come here in the first place.

I swallowed and looked away.

I hated Caidy Ellis. I had every reason to hate her. She had hurt people I cared about, and I had spent years reminding myself that I would never forgive her for it.

So why did the memory of her tears hurt?

Why did the thought of her sitting alone in this unfamiliar house make my chest feel tight?

I clenched my jaw and shoved the questions down before they could take root. I didn’t want sympathy for her. I didn’t want guilt. Most of all, I didn’t want to start questioning everything I had believed about her.

“If you’re all fooled by her act, that’s your problem,” I said at last. My voice sounded rough, even to my own ears. “But I’m not. I won’t trust her. I won’t believe a damn thing she tells me. I don’t care what story she gives you or how convincing she makes it sound.”

Malakai shook his head. “You’re angry. Go cool off before you say something worse.”

I gave him a hard look, then turned toward the corridor. “Gladly.”

I walked out before any of them could stop me. My boots struck the stone floor with every step, but the sound did nothing to drown out the memory that followed me.

Her face.

Her eyes.

And those damn tears.

I clenched my jaw and kept walking.

I couldn’t feel sorry for Caidy Ellis.

I wouldn’t.