The chaos of the battle raged around Elena as her men fell back to regroup, keeping their distance from Lucien's wolves. The sound of wolves howling, gunfire, and men shouting filled the air, but it was all a blur to her. Her focus remained on Lucien, who stood as if untouched by the carnage unfolding. His expression was cold, calculating—like he was waiting for something.
And in that moment, Elena knew exactly what he was waiting for.
Power.
The very thing they both craved.
She had once believed that power was something to be wielded with precision—carefully, thoughtfully. But the longer she played in this game, the more she realized that power didn't care about precision. It only cared about who had it and who was willing to bleed for it.
"Elena," Lucien's voice broke through the chaos, smooth and almost mocking. He hadn't moved an inch since the gunfire began. "This is the price of power. A game of survival."
Her fingers tightened around her gun. She wasn't sure if it was from rage or from the undeniable pull of him, but she couldn't afford to think about that now. The taste of betrayal still burned on her tongue, but there was something even darker creeping into her chest: the realization that she might not walk away from this.
Not without a cost.
"You think you're the only one willing to sacrifice everything for this?" she shouted, stepping forward, her voice cutting through the din of the battle. "I didn't get to where I am by playing by your rules, Lucien. I did it my way. The hard way."
Lucien stepped closer, his movements deliberate and slow, the intensity of his gaze never wavering. "You've been playing the wrong game, Elena. The rules are set by those who are strong enough to bend them."
Her eyes narrowed, but she didn't flinch. "And you think that makes you strong? You think being ruthless makes you untouchable?"
A flicker of something dark passed through his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "I don't need to be untouchable. I just need to be stronger than you."
The words hit her harder than she expected. She had always thought that strength came from control, from strategy. From staying one step ahead. But here Lucien was, telling her that power wasn't about control—it was about domination.
Her heart raced in her chest, the weight of his words settling deep. Stronger than you. It wasn't just a challenge. It was a warning.
She took a step back, her mind racing. The realization hit her all at once—Lucien wasn't just playing for power. He was playing to break her. To strip away everything she had worked for, everything she believed in. And the worst part was, she could feel herself slipping toward the edge.
But she wouldn't let him win. Not like this.
Her gaze snapped back to Lucien, a cold fire igniting in her veins. "You're right about one thing," she said, her voice steady despite the chaos. "Power isn't free. And neither is this war."
Without another word, she turned and signaled her men. The battle wasn't over—it had just begun.