Claim
284 No Mercy Left
Lucian
Though I was bleeding and bruised, the hope those women brought lit something wild in me. Their arrival had shifted the tide-and with it, my soul. The exhaustion faded. Pain dulled. All I felt now was power.
Purpose.
I fought like I was born for this.
Through the chaos, I pushed forward, cutting down the cowards who had shattered what was meant to be
a one-on-one challenge.
Then I saw him.
Alaric.
He was surrounded, locked in combat with four fierce female wolves-bloodied, staggering. His fight with my father had already left him broken, and now these women were tearing into what was left of him. They weren’t holding back. He deserved nothing less.
-Leave him for me, my father’s voice cut through the link like a blade.
Without hesitation, the female wolves disengaged and backed off.
-Let’s finish this, my father added, and a hush fell over the battlefield.
We all stepped back, forming a circle again-this time not for a challenge, but for a reckoning.
My father lunged.
With the force of years of grief and fury behind him, he clamped down and ripped Alaric’s right forelimb
clean off.
The bastard let out a mangled, gurgling howl. That limb-his right arm-would never exist again once he
shifted back.
Alaric stumbled and faltered, blood gushing, but it wasn’t over.
From the crowd, I saw her.
Martha.
She stepped forward-naked, human, unapologetically fierce-holding something cold and mechanical in her hands. A weapon, not of war, but of punishment.
My father howled, and on cue, she clamped a jagged restraint onto Alaric’s other forelimb. A surge of
silver lit through the mechanism, and Alaric convulsed, forced to shift back into his human form.
He screamed.
Martha didn’t flinch.
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204 No Medy Left
She smiled-slow and wicked-as pain twisted his features. Years of torment and silence written in that one expression. I saw the satisfaction flood her face like a wave.
This was justice.
Two other women approached, gloved and prepared. They carried silver chains and a harness designed to
bind even the strongest of wolves.
I realized then-this wasn’t going to be a clean execution.
It wasn’t going to be merciful.
As my father had promised…
Alaric wasn’t going to die quickly.
He was going to suffer.
And we were going to watch.
The moment Alaric shifted back, the battle stopped.
It was as if the entire battlefield exhaled at once.
I looked around, bloodied and half-winded, just in time to see the final act of vengeance.
Mara, Darian, and Rowan tore into Ighor like wolves possessed.
Mara took his hind leg, tearing through muscle with merciless precision. Rowan followed, ripping the other. And then Darian-cold, focused-grabbed Ighor by the head and ripped it clean off in a single,
decisive motion.
The bastard never saw it coming.
I knew Mara would get a fever later-she always did after a savage shift-but right now, it didn’t matter. It
was worth it.
Ighor was gone.
The fight was over.
Around us, the broken remnants of the Neevian army dropped their weapons and raised their hands. Surrounded. Defeated. They didn’t even try to resist. The air had shifted. They knew it was over.
We all shifted back to our human forms. Battered, bruised, blood-soaked-but alive.
My soldiers moved quickly, arresting the survivors.
And though my anger still burned, I knew one thing for certain: Ighor’s betrayal had been his alone.
His father, Alpha Smirnov, hadn’t known. I wouldn’t punish a man for crimes he hadn’t committed.
Then a voice crackled through the link.
284 No Mercy Left
-Alpha, one of my men said, we found Alpha Smirnov. Ighor locked him in a silver cage deep in the
woods. Our men are getting him out now.
I stood still for a moment, stunned.
The sheer lengths Ighor had gone to-the depth of his betrayal-it was staggering.
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