Chapter Twenty-One

The Price

The days blurred into one another.

Pain. Darkness. Blood.

Lucien’s training was relentless. He gave no kindness, no comfort, only lessons carved in bruises and shadows. Each morning, I woke sore and trembling. Each night, I collapsed with wounds fresh and soul frayed. And still, he demanded more.

“Again,” he snapped as I struggled to hold the shadow-blade steady.

My arm shook, the weapon flickering as though mocking me. Sweat burned my eyes. “I can’t—”

“You can,” Lucien cut in sharply. He stalked around me, his presence heavy, his voice cold. “Every time you say you can’t, Derrick wins. Do you want to crawl back to him in chains?”

Rage flared, burning away exhaustion. The blade solidified, shadows locking tight in my grip. I swung, and the air split with a sharp crack.

Lucien’s smile was faint, but his eyes gleamed. “Better.”

I dropped to one knee, gasping. The blade dissolved into smoke, but the rage stayed. I hated Derrick. I hated Mona. I hated myself for ever being weak enough to crave their acceptance.

But I hated Lucien, too. Hated him for breaking me day after day.

And yet… part of me needed it. Needed him.

He crouched in front of me, his hand lifting to grip my chin, forcing me to meet his coal-dark gaze. “Pain sharpens you. But pain is not enough. You must bleed away the last of who you were.”

“I already have,” I rasped.

His lips curved, cruel and amused. “No. Not yet. Kimberly Moonstone still clings to scraps of innocence. Until you bury her, the shadows will never be fully yours.”

The words struck like a knife. Innocence. Did I still have any left? I thought of Hannah’s embrace, Louis’s pendant in my pocket, my father pressing the envelope into my hands. They were the pieces of me that hadn’t died yet.

Pieces Derrick hadn’t stolen.

Pieces I couldn’t let go.

Lucien’s eyes narrowed, as though he could read my thoughts. “You hesitate. That hesitation will kill you.”

“Or save me,” I shot back, surprising even myself.

For the first time, his expression flickered. Amusement, then irritation, then something I couldn’t name. “Careful, little wolf,” he said softly. “Defiance makes you interesting. But it also makes you fragile.”

I forced myself to stand, swaying but unbroken. “Then break me harder. Because I won’t let Derrick win.”

Lucien’s grin returned, sharp and dangerous. “Good.” He snapped his fingers, and shadows surged from the ground, forming into three beasts at once. Twisted wolves, their eyes blazing crimson.

My chest tightened. “Three?”

“You said break you harder.” He stepped back, folding his arms. “Survive them. Or prove Derrick right.”

The beasts lunged as one.

I spun, shadows erupting from my hands to block the first strike. Claws raked across my shield, sparks flying. I countered with a lash of darkness, slicing through smoke and flame. The beast shrieked, dissolving.

But the other two closed in. One struck from the left, the other from behind. My wolf roared inside me, guiding my body faster than thought. I ducked, spun, my shadows solidifying into twin blades. They clashed with the beasts’ claws, sparks and shadow-fire lighting the clearing.

Pain seared as one grazed my ribs, but I didn’t falter. I drove my blade upward, cutting through its chest. It crumbled to ash.

The last beast snapped at my throat. I caught its jaws with my bare hands, shadows surging to reinforce me. My muscles screamed, blood dripped from my arms, but I roared, forcing its head back. Then I plunged my blade into its skull.

Silence.

The beasts dissolved into nothing, leaving only smoke and my ragged breaths. I collapsed to my knees, bloodied, shaking, but alive.

Lucien stepped forward slowly, his shadow-cloak flickering in approval. He crouched again, tilting my chin upward with a finger. His eyes gleamed, dark and hungry.

“Better,” he murmured. “You’re learning to command them. To make the darkness obey.”

I glared at him through the haze of exhaustion. “I’ll do more than command it. I’ll use it to tear Derrick apart.”

Lucien’s smile curved wider. “Good. That’s what I want to hear.”

But as his gaze lingered, I felt something unsettling beneath his approval. Not just satisfaction. Not just pride. Something deeper, sharper—like a predator who’d grown fond of its prey.

And for the first time, I wondered if Lucien’s lessons weren’t just forging me… but binding me.

The shadows curled tighter around me, not as chains, but as armor. My wolf whispered fiercely in my mind: We are not his. Not Derrick’s. Not Lucien’s. Ours alone.

I clung to that truth, even as Lucien’s smile burned into me like a mark.

Because I knew this was only the beginning.

And the shadows were already demanding more.