LUCIAN’S POVShe was limping when I lunged. Yet she kept running, kept fighting, even with a broken leg.Defiance clung to her like a second skin.And I let her run.I could have ended it already—one strike, one clean snap. But that would have been mercy, and mercy had never taught anyone how to survive.“Run,” I told her, though it came out as a low, guttural growl.A dark, satisfied sound vibrated through my chest as I chased her down the corridor. My claws scraped against polished marble, echoing sharply through the chaos. I watched her run. Try. Break.And something inside me, something darker than my wolf, enjoyed it.The way her breath stuttered.The way her steps faltered but refused to stop.The way she kept going when she should have collapsed.She turned the corner—and froze.A dead end.I slowed my pace, my steps deliberate now. There was no need to rush.I already had her.Her back was to me, shoulders shaking, her breath coming in sharp, broken pulls. For a moment, she di
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