Lucas's pov
The dungeon reeked of blood—mine, hers, ours—thick and hot in the air. My shoulder throbbed where Eliza's wolf had torn into me. My ribs still burned from the clash.
Eliza.
The memory of her transformation was still carved into me, as deep as the wounds on my skin. She wasn't supposed to shift. She wasn't supposed to be. For years she had been the husk of a mate, a barren shell dragged into our pack for alliance, a woman Xavier bought like cattle. I had mocked her, pitied her, wanted nothing to do with her. But then, in the dungeon's shadows, she tore herself into fur and fang before my eyes, and shifted.
My wolf had gone mad.
Even now, he snarled inside my chest, pushing against my skin, begging to claim her. Not Xavier. Me.
I locked my jaw, fists tightening at my sides, trying to leash him. This wasn't want. It was hunger, poison in the blood. She wasn't mine. She couldn't be mine. Yet every beat of my heart dragged her scent deeper into me—wild, sharp, intoxicating.
Xavier stepped closer, the weight of his wolf pressing against me, the heat of his fury filling the dungeon. "You think to stand against me?" he growled, voice thick, dangerous. "You dare to touch what is mine?"
I laughed. The sound was harsh, broken by blood still caught in my throat. "Yours? Don't make me choke. You bought her, Xavier. You paid for her with coins and contracts, and you broke her with neglect. Tell me—how many beds did you warm while she cried herself cold in yours?"
His snarl was immediate, reverberating off the stone walls. Good. Let him rage. Let him remember the truth he'd buried under arrogance.
"She lost your child," I spat, the words like claws tearing free. "Your child, Xavier. And while her body bled and her heart shattered, where were you? Between another woman's legs. That's the husband you are."
A flicker passed his eyes, a crack in the stone. Shame, perhaps, or guilt he'd never admit. My wolf surged, sensing weakness, but I pushed him back. Not yet.
Xavier's voice dropped, low and lethal. "You think you're better? You, who lied and said she seduced you? You who raised the whip against her?"
I stiffened, blood roaring in my ears. Yes, I had lied. Yes, I had ordered the lashes. But not because I hated her. Gods help me, it had been because I couldn't bear the pull I felt toward her, the dangerous thread winding tighter every time her eyes met mine. Better to break her, better to make her despise me, than to let the truth fester.
"She deserved punishment," I ground out, though the words tasted foul.
"She deserved loyalty," he snapped back.
His wolf was clawing to get free—I could see it in the twitch of his fingers, the tremor in his jaw. My own wolf responded with a savage thrill, eager, restless, yearning for the fight and for her. Always for her.
The pack was gathering at the dungeon door, their whispers slicing the silence. They had seen her shift. They had seen us battle. They knew this was no longer just about dominance—it was about her. About the mate bond neither of us wanted to admit, but both of us felt crackling in the air like lightning.
I glanced at Eliza.
She was still in wolf form, trembling, blood dripping from her side, her golden eyes locked on us. Gods, she was beautiful like that—raw, feral, defiant even in her pain. My wolf surged so violently I almost staggered. Ours, he hissed. Not his. Never his.
I tore my gaze away, forcing steel into my voice. "You'll never mark her, Xavier. Not now, not ever. Your wolf knows it. That's why you hesitate. That's why you keep her unclaimed. Because deep down, you feel it too—she doesn't belong to you."
His growl shook the stones. "And she belongs to you?"
The question hung like a blade between us.
My wolf answered before I could stop him—Yes. The word thundered through my bones, undeniable, scorching. I clenched my fists, nails digging deep enough to bleed, trying to silence him.
I couldn't admit it. Not here. Not now.
So I smirked, letting cruelty shield me. "She belongs to no one. But better me than you, brother. At least I wouldn't treat her like a whore you bought at the market."
The dungeon erupted. His shift tore through him like a storm, bones snapping, fur ripping free, golden eyes blazing as his wolf burst forth in full. The ground shook under his paws as he stalked toward me, larger, heavier, his breath steaming in the cold air.
My wolf roared in answer, ripping out of me before I could leash him. The pain of the change was lost beneath the flood of fury and desire. Claws hit stone, my own snarl filling the chamber as I bared my teeth.
We collided.
Blood. Heat. Stone shattering beneath the impact. His teeth sank into my shoulder, pain exploding white, but I answered with claws across his muzzle, blood spraying in a hot arc. He slammed me into the wall, ribs cracking, but my wolf reveled in it, clawing, biting, tearing.
All around us, the pack cried out, but their voices were distant, drowned by the thunder of our fight and the pounding of my heart.
Through it all, Eliza watched.