Chapter 85: The Hunter and the Hunted

Mariana’s POV

Lucian’s stance shifted. It was subtle—just a roll of his shoulders, a tightening of his grip—but I knew what it meant.

He wasn’t playing anymore.

The air thickened with his power, his wolf pressing against the edge of his control. Even without shifting, he was a force to be reckoned with, and he wanted me to know it.

I refused to flinch.

Instead, I adjusted my grip on the stolen sword, widening my stance. My pulse thundered in my ears, but I let the fire inside me burn hotter, let it fuel me.

If he wanted a real fight, I would give him one.

Lucian lunged first, faster than before. I barely had time to parry, his blade crashing against mine with bone-rattling force. The impact sent a jolt up my arm, but I held firm, twisting away before he could trap me.

His smirk was gone now.

Good.

I pressed forward, striking hard, aiming for his weak spots. He blocked each attack with expert precision, his movements sharp and efficient. But I didn’t stop. I didn’t let up.

I couldn’t.

This wasn’t just about me anymore.

My pack needed me to win.

Lucian countered suddenly, his blade slipping past my defenses. I twisted just in time, but the edge of his sword sliced across my side. Pain flared, hot and sharp.

I staggered back, pressing a hand to the wound. Blood slicked my fingers.

Lucian exhaled, tilting his head. “You’re quick. But not quick enough.”

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stay upright. The fire behind us cast long shadows across his face, making him look almost otherworldly.

But I wasn’t afraid.

I met his gaze, breathing hard. “You talk too much.”

And then I ran.

Not away—but around.

Using the smoke and shadows to my advantage, I darted behind the burning barricade, forcing Lucian to follow. He was stronger than me, but I was faster.

I needed to make him chase me.

To tire him.

His footsteps pounded behind me as I weaved through the wreckage, my pulse hammering. If I could lead him just a little farther—

A sudden weight slammed into me from behind.

I hit the ground hard, the air rushing from my lungs. Lucian’s strength pinned me, his breath hot against my ear.

“I told you,” he murmured, voice like velvet over steel. “Not quick enough.”

I snarled, twisting violently beneath him. He held me for a beat longer—then I felt his grip falter, just slightly.

And that was all I needed.

I drove my elbow back, catching him in the ribs. He grunted, and I wrenched free, rolling onto my feet before he could recover.

Lucian rose slowly, watching me with something dangerously close to admiration.

But I didn’t wait.

I charged.

Lucian barely had time to brace before I was on him. I struck fast and hard, forcing him back with every blow. My ribs ached, my side burned from the wound he had given me, but I didn’t stop.

Couldn’t stop.

This wasn’t just about winning anymore. It was about finishing this.

Lucian blocked my blade at the last second, our swords clashing with a deafening ring. Sparks flew as metal scraped against metal. He was strong—stronger than me—but I had something he didn’t.

Desperation.

I twisted, ducking under his next strike, and drove my knee into his stomach. He staggered back, just slightly, but it was enough. I pressed forward, slashing at his defenses, forcing him to move.

For the first time since this fight began, he was the one on the defensive.

Lucian’s jaw tightened. “You’re relentless.”

I breathed hard, blood dripping down my arm, but I lifted my sword again. “You have no idea.”

Then he smiled.

And I knew—knew—I had walked straight into his trap.

Lucian moved fast.

Too fast.

One second, I was pressing my advantage, and the next, I was on the ground, my back slamming into the dirt. My sword flew from my grasp, landing just out of reach.

Lucian loomed over me, his own blade glinting in the firelight.

He pressed the tip against my throat.

I went still, my breath shallow.

Not like this.

Lucian exhaled. “You fought well, Mariana.”

I glared up at him. “Go to hell.”

He chuckled. “Perhaps. But not tonight.”

His grip shifted, his blade pressing harder—just enough to draw a thin line of blood. My muscles tensed. I could feel my wolf snarling beneath my skin, desperate to break free, to tear him apart.

But I couldn’t shift. Not yet.

Not while he had the advantage.

Lucian watched me, his dark eyes filled with something unreadable. “You think you’ve won something here, don’t you?”

I said nothing.

He leaned closer, voice dropping. “This isn’t over.”

And then, before I could react, he withdrew his sword, stepping back.

I blinked.

Lucian tilted his head. “You’re too interesting to kill just yet.”

My fingers curled into fists.

Then I heard it—howls in the distance.

Reinforcements.

Lucian heard it too. His expression darkened, but then—he smirked. “Until next time, little queen.”

And with that, he turned and disappeared into the shadows.