Lucas POV
The battlefield is a scene of carnage. Wolves tear into each other, their ferocity unmatched. Bodies litter the ground, the scent of blood and death filling the air. This is the war I’ve trained my men for, a war we should win, but none of it matters to me. I’m not here for victory or glory. I’m here for one reason: to find Elara.
My claws slice through Matthew’s soldiers like they’re made of paper. Blood sprays across my face, but I barely feel it. The world around me is a blur of violence and chaos, but my mind is consumed by one thought—*where is she?*
I tear apart another of Matthew’s men, lifting him by his throat. His eyes widen in terror as my claws dig into his neck, cutting off his air supply. He’s choking, struggling to breathe, but I don’t ease up. I revel in his fear, his desperation. I want answers, and I’ll kill anyone who stands in my way.
“Where’s your Alpha?” I snarl, squeezing his throat tighter. “Where’s Matthew? Where’s Elara?”