Chapter 82: No Safe Haven

Mariana’s POV

The howl still echoed in my ears when the first screams rang out from the northern perimeter.

“They’ve already breached the outskirts,” Damien cursed, drawing his blade. “We have to move—now.”

I didn’t hesitate. “Get the non-combatants to the lower halls of the stronghold. Lock every entrance. No one goes in or out unless they’re one of ours.”

He nodded sharply and rushed off, barking orders to the guards.

Eva grabbed my wrist, her grip like iron. “You can’t stay out in the open, Mariana. You’re the target.”

I ripped my arm free. “I’m not running.”

“This isn’t running,” she hissed. “It’s surviving. If they get to you, this pack falls.”

I knew she was right, but something inside me rebelled against the idea of hiding while others fought and bled.

Before I could argue, another howl shattered the night—closer this time.

“They’re here,” Eva whispered.

I turned, heart hammering, as shadowed figures emerged from the tree line.

At least a dozen warriors, moving with unnatural precision. Their eyes glowed in the dim light, their bodies covered in dark armor. These weren’t just soldiers.

They were hunters.

And they were here for me.

Eva moved first, unsheathing her twin daggers. “Stay behind me.”

I stepped up beside her, refusing to cower.

The lead warrior, a towering man with a jagged scar down his cheek, tilted his head as he looked at me. “The false queen stands.” His voice was rough, almost amused. “Lucian will be pleased.”

My blood ran cold, but I kept my chin high. “Tell Lucian he’ll have to kill me himself.”

The man smirked. “Oh, that’s the plan.”

Then, with terrifying speed, he lunged. The warrior moved faster than I expected. One second, he was several feet away—the next, his blade was swinging toward my throat.

I barely dodged, feeling the whisper of cold steel graze my skin. Eva was quicker, stepping between us with a snarl, her daggers flashing in the dim light. She caught his blade with one and drove the other toward his ribs, but he twisted at the last second, deflecting her strike with brutal efficiency.

I barely had time to draw my own weapon before another enemy lunged at me. Instinct kicked in—I ducked low, driving my knife into his side. He grunted but didn’t slow.

Not normal.

He should have staggered from that wound. Instead, he merely turned, his glowing eyes locking onto mine with eerie calm.

A realization hit me like ice in my veins.

They were enhanced.

Whether by dark magic or something else, Lucian had found a way to strip them of pain, of hesitation. They weren’t just warriors—they were weapons.

Eva must have realized it too because she cursed under her breath. “Go, Mariana! Get inside—now!”

“I’m not leaving you—”

“You have to,” she snapped, slicing across the scarred warrior’s arm before dodging a counterstrike. “This isn’t a fight we win by dying here!”

I hated it, but she was right.

Gritting my teeth, I turned and ran toward the stronghold, weaving through the chaos as more enemies spilled into the courtyard.

Damien was ahead, leading a group of warriors into position. “Inside, now!” he bellowed.

I sprinted up the steps just as another warrior lunged at me from the side. I barely had time to react before a blur of motion intercepted him—Damien, slamming his sword through the attacker’s chest with ruthless precision.

“Keep moving!” he ordered, shoving me toward the doors.

I didn’t argue.

The heavy wooden doors slammed shut behind me, the sound echoing in the grand hall. The room was filled with pack members—elders, mothers clutching their children, warriors tending to wounds. Their eyes turned to me, filled with a question I didn’t have an easy answer for.

Were we safe?

I drew in a breath, forcing my voice steady. “They won’t take this pack. Not tonight.”

But even as I said it, I knew the truth.

This wasn’t just a battle.

It was only the beginning of the war. The stronghold trembled as something heavy slammed against the doors. A collective gasp rippled through the gathered pack members, fear thick in the air.

“They’re trying to break through,” Damien growled, his back pressed against the door. Blood streaked his arm, but he ignored it, gripping his sword with white-knuckled determination.

A second impact cracked through the wood.

“They won’t hold forever,” Eva said as she stumbled inside, panting. Blood splattered her clothes, but none of it seemed to be hers. “Lucian’s forces aren’t just attacking—they’re tearing through our defenses.”

I swallowed hard, trying to keep the panic at bay. “How many made it inside?”

Eva’s jaw clenched. “Not enough.”

Damien turned to me. “What are your orders?”

Orders.

They were looking to me.

I forced myself to think through the haze of fear. If the stronghold fell, we lost everything—our people, our future. We had to hold our ground, at least until Alexander returned.

“We barricade the entrances,” I said. “Eva, take a team and secure every hidden passage. If they get through one of them, we’re done.”

She nodded and was gone in an instant.

I turned to Damien. “Get our best archers on the upper levels. If they’re swarming the gates, we need to make them pay for every inch.”

Another crash against the door, this time splintering part of the wood.

Damien’s expression darkened. “They’ll be through soon.”

I inhaled sharply. “Then we make sure they regret it.”

The moment I spoke, another sound cut through the chaos.

A long, eerie howl.

And then—silence.

The attacks on the door stopped. The shouts outside faded.

Damien stiffened. “Why did they stop?”

The silence stretched, thick with unease.

Then, from the darkness beyond the broken door, a voice drifted through.

Low. Smooth. Amused.

“Come out, little queen,” the voice called. “Let’s talk.”

My stomach dropped.

Lucian had arrived.