Chapter 85

Lucas’ POV

I’d fought battles before, but none had ever felt as strange as this one. My claws were slick with blood, my fangs bared as I tore through another opponent. The witches had power—they could’ve crushed us if they wanted. But something held them back. Their spells fizzled in their hands, their focus locked on a chant and a name whispered through the fray: Amaris.

They wanted time. I wasn’t about to give it to them.

I swung hard, my claws ripping across the chest of a witch who’d dared to rush me. She stumbled back, gasping, before crumpling to the ground. My knuckles throbbed from the blows I’d already landed, but the adrenaline dulled the pain.

“Elara, stay back!” I barked over my shoulder.

She was exactly where I’d told her to be, pressed against a cracked stone wall. Her eyes were wide, flicking between me and the chaos in front of her. She didn’t argue—she hadn’t said a word since the fight started—but I could feel the weight of her frustration.