Claimed By The Alpha, Marked By The Biker-Chapter 39: His Blame

The next morning tasted like ash.I walked across campus with the hood of my jacket pulled high, glass dust still glittering in the strands of my hair that I hadn’t managed to wash out.

My arms stung where tiny cuts had scabbed overnight.

Every step felt heavier than the last, like the bolt that shattered Mordred’s window had lodged itself somewhere inside my ribs.

I kept replaying his voice in my head: "You’re only safe when you’re with me." I couldn’t sleep last night, and this morning when he offered to ride me to school I declined. I took Uber here instead.

First period BioChem was a haze of slides and chemical equations I didn’t hear. I slid into my usual seat in the back and stared at the empty space beside me until someone filled it.

It was Maddox. He isn’t even in my class or studying biochem, but he came here anyway.

He looked exhausted, had purple shadows under his eyes and his bandaged hand cradled against his chest like it still hurt.

He didn’t smirk. Didn’t posture. Just turned toward me the second the professor started writing on the board.

"You okay?" he asked, voice low, almost careful.

I blinked, surprised he’d even speak to me after last night. "I’ve been better." 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

He winced. "About Luke... and everything. I’m sorry. That should never have happened in my house. I handled it. They’re off the team and I’m done with him."

I studied his face carefully, there was no bravado. Just guilt, raw and real.

"Thank you," I said quietly. "For stepping in. For... punching him. Even with Mordred ready to tear the place apart."

He gave a humorless laugh. "I deserved worse." A pause. "You left fast, is everything alright after?"

No. Nothing was alright. Someone had shot a crossbow bolt through Mordred’s window because of me. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that, no matter what...I still can’t trust him completely.

So I just nodded. "Yeah, everything is okay."

He didn’t look convinced, but he let it go. Then, like he’d been holding the question all morning, he leaned closer.

"Hey... what happened with you and Lysander?"

The name hit like a slap, it made me stiffened.

Maddox kept his voice soft. "I’m not trying to start shit. I just... noticed you two aren’t talking anymore. And he’s... different."

"Different how?"

He hesitated, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. "My boys say he’s been hanging with a rough crowd. Kyle mostly. They’ve seen him... using pills and stuff. And yesterday..." He lowered his voice even more.

"They saw him behind the arts building with a freshman girl, cornered her and scared her so badly she cried. Just because she looked at him too long."

My stomach dropped, but I waved it off immediately. "That’s not something Lysander would do no matter what..."

"I didn’t believe it either," Maddox said grimly. "The guy used to flinch if someone raised their voice. But people break, Kianna. And heartbreak... It makes people ugly."

I stared at him, the words clawing into me.

Heartbreak. Because of me?

Maddox must have seen the guilt flash across my face.

He softened and he added calmly.

"Look, I’m not saying it’s your fault. But if you don’t believe me... go to the roof after the last period. Four o’clock. You’ll see for yourself."

Then he stood up and left. The rest of the day was torture. Every lecture blurred and every laugh in the hallway sounded like mockery.

I kept picturing Lysander—the boy who sketched me in charcoal, who took a bullet for me, who cried in the rain when I told him to stay away—holding a girl against a wall, eyes cold with a cruel voice.

I kept telling myself it was none of my business, and I should stay away just like I told him to. But it still hurt, even if I hated him for his lies.

And I was left without an option but to go and find out myself if this was actually true.

By 3:57 p.m. I was climbing the stairwell to the roof, my legs shaking so badly I had to grip the railing. The metal door creaked open under my hand.

And the first thing to welcome me was the sting smell of cigarettes and the smoke dancing along with the cold wind.

I picked a handkerchief to cover my nose and stepped forward. That’s when I found him.

Lysander stood in the center, his back was facing me with a cigarette glowing between his fingers.

Kyle and three others I recognized from the AV club—kids who used to follow him around like puppies, now lounged against the ledge, laughing at something on a phone.

A girl I didn’t know—tiny, freshman maybe, hair in uneven pigtails—was pressed against the chain-link fence, arms wrapped around herself and her eyes had turned red.

Lysander took a long drag, then flicked ash toward her feet.

"You think you can just stare at me all day and I won’t notice?" His voice wasn’t the soft one I remembered.

It was sharp, cruel, edged with something dark. "Say something, or get the hell out of my sight."

The girl whimpered. I took a step back in awe.No, is this a dream? What’s happening? This isn’t Lysander is it? I couldn’t breathe.

This wasn’t the boy who took me on a date and bought me my very first flowers. This was a stranger wearing his face.

"Lysander," I said, stepping forward.

He turned slowly, cigarette dangling from his lips. For one heartbeat, his eyes flickered with something that felt like a mix of surprise and pain or something human.

Then the mask slammed back down. "Well," he drawled, exhaling smoke toward me. "Look who came to see the freak show."

Kyle snickered. The others shifted, suddenly interested.

I ignored them, walking straight to him. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" He gestured at the trembling girl with his cigarette. "Teaching that bitch some lessons. Some people need to learn their place."

"That’s not you," I whispered, making sure not to break eye contact with him. "This isn’t you Lysander."

He laughed—bitter and broken. "You have no idea who I am anymore, Kianna. You made sure of that."

The girl tried to edge away but one of the boys blocked her.Then stepped between them. "Let her go."

Lysander’s eyes narrowed. "Or what? You’ll run to Mordred? Tell him I’m the bad guy now?"

He took a step closer, voice dropping to something venomous. "You want to know why I’m like this? Because of you. Because I loved you and you chose him. Because every time I close my eyes I still see you telling me to stay away like I was nothing."

His words sliced deeper than any blade. I opened my mouth to speak but words refused to form.

"You made a fool of me," he continued, voice cracking despite the cruelty. "You let the whole school watch me break in the rain. You let them laugh at me. So yeah—maybe I stopped caring who I hurt. Because you stopped caring about me first."

Tears burned my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall. "I never wanted this for you."

"Too late." He flicked the cigarette away, grinding it under his boot. "Go back to your prince, Kianna. Leave the monsters on the roof."

The freshman girl bolted the second the circle broke, disappearing down the stairs with a sob.

I stood there, chest heaving, staring at the boy I thought I knew.

He stared back—eyes red with his jaw trembling. And for one terrible second I saw the old Lysander underneath the ruin.

Then he turned away, lighting another cigarette with shaking fingers. I left without another word.

The rooftop door slammed behind me, echoing like a gunshot.

And for the rest of the night, no matter how many times I showered, I couldn’t wash the smell of smoke, or the sound of his voice off my skin.