Three days after my "loyalty test," I got another summons. This time it came in the form of a black envelope slipped under my apartment door while I was asleep. No postmark, no signature, just elegant silver lettering on expensive paper.
Tonight. Full moon rises at 11:47 PM. Be ready.
An address in the hills followed, along with a single line that made my blood run cold: Wear white.
In every culture I knew, wearing white to a nighttime gathering meant one of two things—wedding or sacrifice. Given my recent experiences with Marcus and his organization, I wasn't optimistic about which one this was.
I spent the day researching the address. It belonged to a private estate in the Hollywood Hills, purchased six months ago through a shell company that traced back to Darkmoon holdings. Satellite images showed a sprawling mansion with extensive grounds, surrounded by trees that would provide excellent cover for whatever they were planning.
As the sun set, I dressed in the only white outfit I owned—a simple cotton dress that hit just above my knees. It felt wrong, like wearing a target on my back. I strapped a knife to my thigh, hidden beneath the fabric, and hoped I wouldn't need it.
The same black sedan from before picked me up at 10:30. The driver was different this time—a woman with steel-gray hair and predator's eyes who introduced herself only as Vera. She drove in silence through winding hill roads until we reached massive iron gates that opened without her having to stop.
The mansion beyond looked like something from a Gothic novel. Three stories of dark stone and towering windows, with ivy crawling up the walls like grasping fingers. Lights flickered in the windows, but they were the warm orange of candles rather than electric bulbs.
"Traditional lighting for traditional ceremonies," Vera said, speaking for the first time since we'd left the city. Her voice had a slight accent I couldn't place. "Some rituals require the old ways."
Ritual. The word made my skin crawl.
Other cars were already parked in the circular drive. Expensive vehicles, the kind that cost more than most people made in a year. I counted at least fifteen, which meant tonight's gathering was bigger than anything I'd seen so far.
Vera led me through massive oak doors into a foyer dominated by a sweeping staircase. The air smelled of wood smoke and something else—something wild and earthy that made my hunter instincts prickle with recognition.
"This way," Vera said, guiding me down a hallway lined with portraits of stern-faced men and women. Their eyes seemed to follow us as we walked.
We emerged into what had once been a ballroom but was now something else entirely. The furniture had been pushed against the walls, leaving a large open space in the center. Candles in tall iron stands provided the only light, casting dancing shadows across the hardwood floor.
About twenty people stood around the room's perimeter, all dressed in white like me. I recognized some faces from the underground fighting ring, others from brief glimpses at Darkmoon properties. But there were new faces too—men and women who carried themselves with the kind of confidence that came from real power.
At the far end of the room, Marcus stood behind a table draped in black cloth. He wore a white shirt and dark pants, and in the candlelight he looked less like a businessman and more like what he really was—something ancient and dangerous.
But it was the figure beside him that made my breath catch.
Kai stood to Marcus's right, dressed in white like the rest of us. But while everyone else looked nervous or excited, his expression was completely blank. Like he was trying very hard not to show any emotion at all.
Our eyes met across the room, and I felt that strange pull again. The sensation that something was connecting us despite the distance between us. My wrist began to tingle where the crescent birthmark lay hidden beneath my sleeve.
"Welcome," Marcus said, his voice carrying easily through the room despite not being raised. "Tonight marks the beginning of a new phase for our organization. Tonight, we formalize bonds that will strengthen us all."
Bonds. I didn't like the sound of that.
"For those who are new to our traditions," Marcus continued, "the blood covenant is both privilege and responsibility. It marks you as family, as someone who can be trusted with our deepest secrets. But it also binds you to us permanently. There is no leaving once the ritual is complete."
My mouth went dry. Permanent? What the hell had I gotten myself into?
Marcus gestured to the table behind him, and I could see objects laid out on the black cloth. A silver chalice that gleamed in the candlelight. Several bottles of dark liquid. And something that made my blood freeze—a curved silver blade that looked ancient and deadly.
"The ceremony requires three elements," Marcus explained. "Blood, to show your commitment. Wine, to seal the bond. And pain, to ensure you remember the weight of your oath."
I glanced around the room at the other faces. Some looked excited, others nervous, but no one seemed surprised by what Marcus was describing. They'd all known what they were signing up for.
I hadn't.
"We'll begin with our newest member," Marcus said, and his eyes found mine across the room. "Ruby Martinez, please step forward."
My legs felt like lead as I walked toward the table. Every instinct I had was screaming at me to run, but I was surrounded by twenty people who could probably tear me apart if I tried to leave.
When I reached the table, I could see the items more clearly. The chalice was old, with symbols carved into its surface that hurt to look at directly. The bottles contained what looked like wine, but wine didn't usually have that thick, dark consistency. And the silver blade...
The silver blade was covered in runes that seemed to shift and move in the candlelight.
"Give me your hand," Marcus said.
I held out my right hand, and he turned it palm up. The silver blade felt ice-cold against my skin as he pressed the tip to my palm.
"Do you swear to serve this organization with your life, your blood, and your soul?" he asked.
"I do," I said, though my voice sounded strange to my own ears.
Marcus drew the blade across my palm. The pain was sharp and immediate, and blood welled up dark red in the candlelight. He held my hand over the chalice, letting several drops fall into whatever liquid was already inside.
"Kai," Marcus said without looking away from me. "Complete the binding."
Kai stepped forward, and I saw his jaw was clenched so tight I was surprised his teeth didn't crack. He took the chalice from Marcus and held it out to me.
"Drink," he said quietly.
I looked down at the liquid in the cup. It was dark red, almost black, and it moved with a consistency that definitely wasn't wine. The smell that rose from it was metallic and wild, like fresh blood mixed with something animal.
Wolf blood. I was about to drink wolf blood.
My hunter heritage screamed in protest, every instinct telling me that what I was about to do was wrong on a fundamental level. But if I refused now, I was dead. And my mission—finding out what Darkmoon was really planning—would die with me.
I took the chalice and raised it to my lips.
The liquid was warm and thick, with a taste like copper pennies and dark earth. It coated my throat as I swallowed, and I had to fight not to gag. The moment it hit my stomach, I felt something change. A warmth that spread through my chest and down my arms, like electricity in my bloodstream.
"Now the marking," Marcus said, taking the silver blade from the table. "Roll up your left sleeve."
I hesitated. My birthmark was under that sleeve, the crescent-shaped mark that had been glowing whenever Kai was near. If Marcus saw it...
"Is there a problem?" Marcus asked, and his voice carried a hint of threat.
"No," I said quickly, pushing up the cotton sleeve to expose my forearm.
Marcus studied my skin for a moment, and I held my breath. But the birthmark wasn't visible in the candlelight—it only glowed when activated. To him, it probably just looked like an ordinary crescent-shaped mole.
"Kai will perform the marking," Marcus said, handing him the silver blade. "As your sponsor into the organization, the honor belongs to him."
Kai took the blade, and I saw his hand shake slightly. His green eyes met mine, and I saw something there that looked like an apology.
"Hold still," he said quietly.
The silver blade touched my wrist just above the birthmark. The metal was so cold it burned, and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out.
Then Kai began to cut.
The pain was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. Not just the physical sensation of the blade slicing through my skin, but something deeper. Like the silver was burning through more than just flesh, reaching down into something fundamental about what I was.
And then it happened.
The moment the blade passed over my birthmark, light exploded from my wrist.
Blue light, brilliant and cold, blazed from the crescent-shaped mark like a tiny star. It was so bright that several people gasped and stepped back, and the shadows on the walls danced wildly as the light pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat.
But that wasn't the shocking part.
The shocking part was when Kai dropped the silver blade with a cry of pain and clutched his right hand to his chest. Golden light was streaming from between his fingers, warm and bright, perfectly matching the rhythm of my blue glow.
The room erupted in whispers and gasps. Someone screamed. Marcus stepped back, his face slack with astonishment.
Kai and I stared at each other as light poured from our matching marks. The pain from the silver blade was nothing compared to what I felt now—like fire racing through my veins, like lightning striking every nerve ending at once.
I fell to my knees, clutching my wrist. The blue light was getting brighter, and I could feel something fundamental changing inside me. Like barriers I'd never known existed were crumbling, revealing parts of myself I'd never imagined.
Kai collapsed beside me, his hand still pressed to his chest. Golden light leaked through his fingers, and his face was twisted in agony that mirrored my own.
"What's happening?" I gasped.
"Mate bond," he whispered, so quietly only I could hear. "It's activating."
The lights from our marks began to pulse in perfect synchronization. Blue and gold, cold and warm, hunter and prey finding a harmony that should have been impossible.
And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the light faded.
I was still on my knees, breathing hard. My wrist throbbed where Kai had cut it, but when I looked down, the wound was already healing. Faster than any human injury should heal.
Kai was staring at his hand in shock. When he opened his fingers, I could see a mark identical to mine—a golden crescent that pulsed with warm light before fading to the color of old scars.
The room was dead silent. Twenty pairs of eyes stared at us in disbelief, fear, and something that might have been awe.
Marcus recovered first. He stepped forward slowly, like he was approaching a dangerous animal.
"What," he said very carefully, "was that?"
Neither Kai nor I answered. How could we? I didn't understand what had just happened any more than he did.
"In three hundred years," Marcus continued, "I have never seen anything like that. Mate bonds don't manifest between..." He trailed off, studying our faces.
"Between what?" I asked.
Marcus was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper.
"Between natural enemies."
The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Around the room, I could see people shifting nervously, hands moving toward concealed weapons.
"Ruby," Marcus said, and for the first time since I'd met him, he sounded uncertain. "What exactly are you?"
I looked at Kai, who was still clutching his hand to his chest. His green eyes were wide with something that looked like terror.
"I don't know," I said, which was both a lie and the truth. I knew what I was supposed to be—an FBI agent, a hunter, someone whose blood was designed to kill werewolves. But after what had just happened, I wasn't sure I knew anything at all.
"The bond," said a voice from the back of the room. An elderly woman with silver hair stepped forward. "I've read about this in the old texts. A bond between hunter and wolf, formed in blood and sealed in light."
"That's impossible," Marcus said flatly.
"So was what we just witnessed," the woman replied. "And yet here we are."
She looked at Kai and me with eyes that seemed far older than her face. "The prophecies speak of such a bond. They say it will either unite the bloodlines or destroy them both."
"Prophecies," Marcus scoffed, but he didn't sound entirely convinced.
"The mark chooses its own," the woman continued. "And the marks have chosen. The question now is what we do about it."
I could feel the tension in the room racheting up to dangerous levels. Several people were openly staring at me like I was a threat, and a few had their hands on weapons.
"Marcus," Kai said suddenly, struggling to his feet. "I need to speak with you. Privately."
Marcus studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Everyone else, the ceremony is concluded. Return to your homes. We'll discuss what happened here when I've had time to... process the implications."
People began filing out of the room, but their whispered conversations followed them. I caught fragments—"hunter blood," "impossible," "dangerous"—and none of it sounded good for my life expectancy.
When the room was empty except for Marcus, Kai, and me, Marcus turned to face us.
"Start talking," he said. "And don't lie to me. After what I just witnessed, I think we're past the point of deception."
Kai and I exchanged glances. The mark on my wrist was still tingling, and I could feel an invisible thread connecting us. Whatever had happened during the ritual, it had changed something fundamental between us.
The question was whether it would save us or get us both killed.
"It's complicated," Kai said finally.
Marcus smiled, but there was no humor in it. "I have all night."
End of Chapter 5