Chapter 82: Chapter 82; I can’t die like this
Lucian’s POV
A sharp, violent gasp tore from my throat. I choked, the air burning my lungs as I blinked rapidly against the darkness.
My eyes darted around the unfamiliar room. Shadows clung to the corners, and the air smelled heavily of damp concrete and rust. I threw my weight forward to stand, but a sudden jerk slammed me right back into place.
Heavy ropes were wound tight around my chest, binding my arms and pinning me to a thick wooden chair.
"Who the fuck brought me here?!" I roared, the sound echoing off the bare walls. "Why am I here?!"
I strained against the ropes, flexing my muscles to snap them. Nothing happened. A cold knot of panic tightened in my chest. I couldn’t break them. In fact, I could barely lift my arms. My strength—the raw, crushing power that ran through my veins—was completely gone. It felt like my very blood had been replaced with lead.
How? How did I get here?
I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing my panicked mind to look backward. The last thing I remembered was Ragnar. We were in the woods. Ragnar had been breathless, warning me about Aiden’s latest plan—that Aiden wanted me dead, that he wanted my head on a spike. I remember the fury blinding me. I remember turning, ready to march straight to Aiden’s territory to tear him apart myself.
And then... a smell. A thick, sickly sweet substance filled my nose, and everything went black.
How long have I been out?
Frustration boiled over into pure rage. I bared my teeth, tugging at the bindings until the rough hemp cut into my wrists. I am an Alpha. A weak rope should be nothing but thread to me. Why couldn’t I channel my wolf? Why was the beast inside me completely silent?
"I wouldn’t bother if I were you."
The voice came from the deepest shadows of the room. A woman’s voice. Soft, smooth, and dripping with venom.
I stilled, my eyes straining against the dark as footsteps clicked slowly toward the faint light.
"Who’s there?" I demanded, my voice dropping to a low growl. "Show yourself!"
The shadow shifted. A figure stepped forward, the dim light catching her face.
My breath caught. My eyes widened, the blood freezing in my tracks.
"Ilya," I breathed, the word barely escaping my throat.
She smiled, a slow, mocking smirk spreading across her lips. "So you remember me. I mean, I thought I was easy to forget after you ruined my life and cast me out, Lucian."
The way she said my name made my skin crawl. Her face was smiling, but her tone was sharp enough to cut.
"I really thought I’d never see you again after I was forced to leave our village," she continued, pacing a slow circle around my chair. "But all I had to do was come to the city. Imagine my luck when I found out there’s a bounty on your head. I knew right then the universe was finally on my side."
"What do you want?" I ground out, my jaw aching from the tension. "What did you do to me? Why can’t I use my power?"
A harsh, jagged laugh burst from her lips, echoing off the walls. She stopped right in front of me, leaning down until we were eye to eye.
"Have you forgotten the substance I gave you?" she hissed, her smile instantly vanishing, replaced by a raw, burning hatred. "The very substance you stole from my family? The one that caused my mother to kill herself? The one that got my father publicly beheaded—all because they made the mistake of trying to help a stranger?"
The anger radiating off her was suffocating. Every word she spoke was laced with years of pure, unadulterated torment.
"Now," Ilya whispered, her eyes flashing with a terrifying finality as she reached into her pocket, "you are going to go through every single ounce of pain I went through. Slowly. Steadily. I am going to watch you die."
A fresh wave of panic crashed over me, rattling my chest. I couldn’t let it end like this. Not in the dark, tied to a chair.
"Ilya, listen to me," I rushed out, my voice tight as I strained against the ropes. "You’re mistaken. I didn’t do anything to your family. I was grateful to them. Everything you heard was a lie."
A wicked, mocking laugh cut me off, echoing sharply against the concrete walls. She threw her head back, the sound sharp and grating.
"Oh, look at the great Alpha now," she sneered, leaning in close enough that I could feel the heat of her anger. "You will say anything, do anything, just to save your own skin. You’ve always been like this. It’s the exact same way you lied to your old pack—telling them you were cast out and ripped off, making them pity you, just so you could ruin everything for them too."
My jaw clenched. Her eyes were completely consumed by hatred. I looked at the raw fury twisting her features and realized, with a sinking dread, that logic wouldn’t work here. She wouldn’t believe a single word of the truth. She was too angry, too broken, and she was actually going to kill me if I didn’t stop her.
I needed to break her focus. I needed a distraction, something to shatter her certainty before she used whatever toxin she was holding. I had to play dirty.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, forced the tension out of my face, and looked straight into her eyes.
"Ilya... I loved you."
The words hung heavily in the damp air.
Ilya froze. Her wicked smile instantly faltered, crumbling into a look of absolute shock. The weapon in her hand wavered as she stared down at me, her eyes widening as utter confusion took over her face.
I knew about her dying love for me. It was a weapon buried deep under her grief and bitterness, but it was the only weapon I had left. I couldn’t let her kill me. Not here, and not like this.
