Morning in Black Hollow came gray and restless. The mist hung low, thick as unspoken secrets. Aria woke in her bed drenched in sweat, her pulse racing as if she'd been running for hours. Her dreams had been filled with the forest — claws, moonlight, a voice whispering her name.
She touched her neck. The skin was smooth, but the memory of heat was still there — the place where the werewolf's claw had brushed her. Where he had.
Lucian Draven.
For a moment, she wondered if it had been a hallucination brought on by exhaustion. But when she looked in the mirror, she froze. Faint against her collarbone, under the skin, was a shimmering crescent mark — silver and alive, pulsing softly with her heartbeat.
She pressed her fingers to it. Pain flared up her spine, sharp and electric. Her breath hitched. The light vanished, leaving only her reflection — pale, shaken, and terrified.
"What the hell…" she whispered.
She didn't tell anyone. Who would believe her? Black Hollow thrived on ghost stories, but this one felt too real. Too close. She showered, dressed, and tried to act normal, but every sound — every bark, every creak of wind — made her flinch.
At the café where she worked, her friend Tessa noticed immediately.
"You look like hell, Ria. You pull another all-nighter?"
"Something like that," Aria murmured, forcing a smile.
Tessa leaned closer, smirking. "Or maybe you finally let one of those mountain boys walk you home?"
Aria laughed weakly, but her stomach twisted. "Something like that," she said again, this time under her breath.
By afternoon, the air changed. The town grew tense. Police cars rolled through the streets — a rare sight in sleepy Black Hollow. People gathered near the edge of the forest, whispering. Aria's curiosity won again, dragging her toward the commotion.
A deputy stood guard at the trail entrance. His face was pale. "You folks need to head home," he said to the crowd. "There's been… an incident."
Someone asked, "Another animal attack?"
The man hesitated before nodding. "Yeah. That's what it looks like."
Aria's blood ran cold. Another.
She pushed through the crowd enough to catch a glimpse — a white sheet laid out on the grass, crimson spreading underneath. Whatever was beneath it had been torn apart. Not just mauled — destroyed.
Her breath came shallow. For a moment, she thought of Lucian — of the way his claws had grazed her skin. Of the way he'd told her to run.
And then she saw him.
Standing beyond the police tape, half-hidden among the pines, watching her. Lucian Draven — dressed in black, hood drawn low. His eyes caught hers from across the distance. Cold. Wild. Familiar.
Her heart stuttered.
He turned and vanished into the woods.
Aria followed.
"Aria!" Tessa called after her, but the voice faded behind the pounding in her ears. She moved through the trees like someone sleepwalking, guided by instinct. The forest swallowed her whole, and soon all she could hear was her breath — and faintly, a heartbeat that wasn't hers.
She found him near the creek, crouched, washing blood off his hands. Human hands.
"You shouldn't be here," Lucian said without looking up. His voice was calm, but there was a strain under it, like he was holding something back.
"Did you kill that man?" The question slipped out before she could stop it.
His jaw tightened. "If I had, you'd know. The whole town would know."
"Then what's happening? Why did you tell me to run? Why do I—" She stopped, pulling down her collar to show the faint silver crescent. "Why do I have this?"
Lucian's eyes flicked to the mark. His expression changed — pain, anger, something darker. "Damn it," he muttered, standing. "You weren't supposed to be marked."
"Then unmark me."
He laughed bitterly. "It doesn't work like that."
"Then tell me what it means!"
Lucian stepped closer, close enough that she could see the faint scars on his neck, the feral gold in his eyes. "It means you're tied to me now," he said. "Bound by blood and moonlight. The mark chooses who the Alpha's blood touches. It means I'll feel you — your fear, your heartbeat — and you'll feel me."
Aria stumbled back, shaking her head. "No. That's impossible."
"Look around you," Lucian growled, gesturing to the dark forest. "Do you think anything about this place is possible?"
The tension between them thickened — fear and something else, something magnetic. She wanted to hate him. Wanted to scream. But when he looked at her like that, she couldn't move.
"Why me?" she whispered.
Lucian's gaze softened, just for a second. "Because fate's cruel."
Thunder rolled in the distance. The scent of rain mixed with the sharp metallic tang of blood.
He turned away. "Go home, Aria. Before my pack finds you. They'll see the mark and know what you are now."
"What I am?"
"Marked by an Alpha," he said. "To them, you're no longer human. You're claimed."
The word hit her like a slap. Claimed.
Before she could respond, he was gone again — a blur vanishing between trees. The forest trembled in his wake.
Aria stood there, shaking, rain starting to fall. When she looked down at her reflection in the creek, the silver mark glowed brighter under her skin. And for the first time, she heard a whisper inside her head — not her voice, not his, but something older.
The moon always takes what it marks.