Chapter 12: Punishment
Chapter 12: Punishment
Lucien’s POV
The den stank of blood and mud, my blood, my wolves’ blood, smeared across my fur, crusting in the cracks of my scars. I’d barely made it back, Vira limping, Ragnar panting, the rest of my pack rotting in Dax’s trap, golden bastard laughing over their bones. My paws hit the stone stairs, claws scraping, chest heaving with every step, rage burning hotter than the wounds tearing my flank. Selene. Her scent hit me before I reached her door, wild, earthy, sharp, curling into my lungs like a taunt. She started this, her capture, her defiance, pushing me to strike Ironclaw, straight into his jaws. Dax set the trap, sure, but she lit the fuse, and I’d lost everything—my wolves, my pride, my grip. She’d pay for it, feel it, bleed it out of her smug green eyes.
I stopped at her door, wood rough under my paw, steel bolts glinting in the torchlight. My pulse slammed, hard, fast, fury coiling tight in my gut, scars flexing as I shifted, fur receding, skin prickling, human again, raw, torn, alive. My hand gripped the latch, knuckles white, blood dripping from a gash on my arm, splattering the floor. I didn’t knock, didn’t call out—just ripped it open, hinges groaning, the dim cell swallowing me whole. She was there, pacing, bare feet silent on the stone, jeans torn at the knee, sweater clinging to her frame, green eyes snapping to me, wide, then narrow, sharp as claws. “You look like hell,” she said, voice low, steady, no fear, just that damn edge, cutting me already.
“Shut up,” I growled, voice rough, throat scraped raw from snarling through the fight, the escape, the loss. I stepped in, boots thudding, blood trailing, ice-blue locking on her, cutting through the dim. She didn’t flinch, just stopped pacing, arms loose, chin up, watching me like I was prey, not her. My fists clenched, scars pulling tight across my knuckles, rage surging, hot, feral, begging to spill. “You did this,” I said, words gravel, stepping closer, looming, chest heaving, shirt hanging open, blood and dirt smeared across me. “Your scent, your fight, your damn games—I struck Ironclaw for you, and Dax gutted me for it.”
Her lips twitched, not a smile, just a flicker, green eyes glinting, cold, fierce. “Don’t pin your stupidity on me,” she shot back, voice sharp, stepping forward, closing the gap, bare feet silent, defiant. “You took me, you caged me, you ran headfirst into him—blame your own thick skull.” My growl ripped free, loud, guttural, hands shooting out, grabbing her shoulders, slamming her back against the stone wall, hard enough to rattle her teeth. She gasped, air punching out of her, but her eyes didn’t drop, didn’t soften—just burned, green fire, daring me, pushing me, damn her, damn her spine.
“You think you’re clean?” I snarled, face close, breath hot, blood dripping from my arm onto her jeans, staining dark. “You pushed me, taunted me, made me think I could break them with you—Dax knew, he waited, and my pack’s dead because of it.” My grip tightened, fingers digging into her shoulders, scars flexing, chest pressing closer, heat rolling off me, rage and something else, something dark, twisting low. She shoved back, hard, palms slamming my chest, claws of her own, blunt but fierce, forcing me to stagger, just a step, enough to stoke the fire higher.
“Get off me,” she spat, voice low, vicious, green eyes blazing, chest rising fast, sweater stretching tight. “You lost because you’re reckless, not because I whispered in your ear—Dax played you, not me.” I lunged, grabbing her wrists, pinning them above her head, stone cold against my knuckles, her pulse racing under my grip. She twisted, kicked, caught my shin, pain flaring, sharp, fueling me, damn her, damn her fight. I pressed in, body a wall, ice-blue boring into her, teeth bared, fury spilling out, raw, feral, unstoppable.
“You’ll pay,” I growled, voice hoarse, throat tight, blood dripping from my lip where a fang had nicked it shifting back. “You’ll feel this, every wolf I lost, every scar I took—you don’t get to sit here, smug, safe, while I bleed.” I yanked her wrists higher, stretching her, her back arching against the wall, green eyes flashing, not fear, not surrender, just hate, pure, hot, matching mine. She jerked, hard, knee snapping up, aiming low, grazing my thigh, close, too close, and I roared, shoving her back, harder, stone scraping her shoulders, her hiss sharp in the air.
“Try it,” she snarled, voice breaking, raw, green eyes locked on mine, daring, burning, fearless. “Hurt me, kill me—won’t bring your wolves back, won’t fix your mess.” My hand shot to her throat, not squeezing, just holding, fingers rough against her skin, pulse pounding under my palm, fast, alive, damn her, damn her steel. I leaned in, close, too close, breath mixing, blood and sweat and her scent, wild, earthy, sinking into me, twisting me, rage and heat and something else, something I hated, clawing up my spine.
“You don’t get it,” I said, voice low, rough, ice-blue cutting deep, scars flexing as I held her there, pinned, trapped. “I lost them, my pack, my blood—because I took you, because I thought I could use you, and Dax turned it on me. You’re not walking away clean.” Her jaw tightened, green eyes narrowing, lips parting, breath short, sharp, defiance rolling off her, thick, heavy. She tilted her head, just enough, throat pressing against my hand, testing me, pushing me, damn her, damn her guts.
“Then what?” she hissed, voice steady, cutting, green eyes glinting, cold, fierce. “Beat me? Break me? You think that’ll scare Dax off, make him forget? You’re dumber than I thought.” My growl rumbled, deep, chest vibrating, hand tightening, just a fraction, feeling her pulse jump, her breath catch, but her eyes didn’t waver, didn’t drop, just stared, green fire, burning me, damn her, damn her words. I shoved her back, hard, letting go, stepping away, boots scuffing stone, chest heaving, rage surging, hot, feral, fraying at the edges.
I turned, pacing, claws itching under my skin, ice-blue flicking back to her, watching her slide down, hands rubbing her wrists, green eyes tracking me, sharp, unyielding. “You’ll stay here,” I snarled, voice rough, pointing at the floor, blood dripping from my arm, pooling dark. “No food, no water, no light—until I say, until you feel this, until it sinks in.” She laughed, low, bitter, leaning back against the wall, green eyes glinting, cold, mocking. “Big man,” she said, voice sharp, cutting deep. “Starve me, lock me up—won’t change a damn thing. Dax still won.”
My fist slammed the wall, stone cracking, pain shooting up my arm, blood smearing, rage boiling, hot, feral, endless. “Keep talking,” I growled, voice hoarse, turning, ice-blue blazing, stepping close again, towering, scars flexing. “Push me, see where it gets you.” She stood, slow, deliberate, bare feet silent, green eyes locked on mine, chin up, defiance thick, heavy, alive. “You’re not him,” she said, voice low, steady, cutting deeper. “Dax played you, beat you, and you’re here, barking at me—pathetic.”
I froze, chest heaving, ice-blue narrowing, scars pulling tight, rage surging, hot, raw, but her words stuck, sharp, jagged, digging in. She stepped closer, too close, green eyes burning, voice dropping, soft, lethal. “You want to punish someone? Look at yourself—your wolves died because you didn’t see it coming, not because I breathed in your direction.” My hand twitched, claws prickling, fury coiling, but I didn’t move, didn’t strike, just stood, locked, ice-blue on green, blood dripping, pulse slamming, damn her, damn her truth.
She smirked, faint, bitter, stepping back, leaning against the wall, arms crossing, green eyes glinting, cold, fierce. “Go on, then,” she said, voice steady, taunting. “Starve me, beat me, whatever—won’t make you alpha again.” I snarled, low, rough, turning, boots thudding, storming out, slamming the door, steel bolts clanging, locking her in, her words echoing, cutting, rattling me. My chest heaved, scars flexing, rage burning, but
doubt crept in, cold, sharp, damn her, damn her bite.