Man, that storm did a damn good job covering their tracks—until those voices sliced right through the rain, sharp as hell. Selene's heart went nuts, thumping behind her ribs like it wanted out, her grip choking the life out of that ratty blanket. And that mark on her wrist? It wouldn't quit—throbbed like a warning siren, traitorous and loud.
Damien was stone still at the door, dagger flashing in the lantern's gloom. When he spoke, his voice got low and mean, the kind of growl that says back the hell off.
"Show yourself."
From somewhere outside, someone laughed—a nasty, low sound, like they enjoyed this way too much.
"Oh, we will. Don't worry. But not yet. So, Alpha King... how's it feel, knowing the Council's gonna rip you to shreds if they find out about your little secret?"
Selene sucked in a breath so sharp it hurt. There it was—her nightmare, crawling right into the room.
They knew.
Another voice joined the party, even colder, like ice water dumped down your back.
"We only want the girl. Hand her over, and maybe we'll let you keep breathing."
Damien's fingers locked around his blade, jaw clenched so hard you'd swear it might crack. He didn't say a word.
Selene almost lost it. Part of her was ready to scream, beg him to make them go away. But she bit down—hard enough to taste blood. If she said anything, if they heard her, well, that'd just seal the deal.
Footsteps started circling outside, slow and mocking. There was this horrible scratching—claws on wood. Selene flinched. Shadows danced at the window, way too many. Three, four, who knows—felt like a whole pack.
"They're not gonna stop," Damien mumbled, maybe just for himself.
Then one of the creeps outside spat through the storm, "We'll be back when it's quiet—when you slip up. Protect her while you can, Alpha. That mark won't hide her forever."
The footsteps faded, swallowed up by the storm. Rain hammered the roof, but the silence inside? Way worse.
Selene finally let herself breathe, just a little. She looked at Damien and, man, the look in his eyes—fierce, ready to fight, but there was fear mixed in. Real fear.
"Damien…" she whispered.
He didn't reply. Just dropped his blade a bit and turned to her, face unreadable, but his words hit like a punch:
"You never should've been marked."
And just like that, the world cracked open between them.