The Mark Appears
The world outside her small-town life unfolded like a wound—raw, vivid, and far too real.
Elara sat in the passenger seat of a sleek black car, stolen silence heavy between her and the man who called himself her guardian. Kael Thorne drove like the road didn’t matter, like he knew every curve before it came. The woods outside blurred, moonlight catching in his eyes. Not human eyes. Not anymore.
Elara’s hands trembled in her lap. Her hoodie clung to her skin, damp with sweat and forest mist. The mark beneath it still burned, a constant pulse that seemed to mirror Kael’s presence.
“What was that back there?” she finally asked, her voice rough, like it hadn’t been used in years.
Kael didn’t glance at her. “A test. You passed.”
“Test?” she echoed. “They tried to kill me.”
He nodded once. “And they failed.”
Frustration flared. “You’re not answering anything. Why were they after me? What even are you?”
Kael sighed, the sound more tired than annoyed. “I’m a Lycan. And so are you—at least, partly.”
Elara blinked. “Like... a werewolf?”
“No,” Kael said sharply. “Not the legends. Not the movies. We are older than that. Stronger. The moon doesn’t control us—we answer to blood.”
She shook her head. “This is insane. I can’t be one of you. I’m just... me. I get bullied, I have zero friends, I’ve never even been in a fight. I’m not—”
He turned to her then, gaze blazing. “You lit up like the moon’s own fire when they touched you. That mark on your skin? It’s your bloodline waking up. You are not ordinary, Elara. You never were.”
The car slowed. They turned onto a dirt path hidden beneath an arch of trees. It led to a cabin, remote and dark, nestled against a lake that shimmered silver under the night sky.
Kael parked. “We’re safe for now. But you need answers. And you’re not ready for all of them.”
Elara got out, legs unsteady. Her body still ached from the run, the fall, the fear. But curiosity, sharp and biting, pushed her forward.
Inside, the cabin was spartan but warm. A fire already crackled in the hearth. Kael tossed her a clean towel and a bottle of water.
“Drink. Shower. The mark will settle after.”
She hesitated. “You’ve seen it before?”
He nodded. “Only once. On your mother.”
The world tilted.
“My mother is dead.”
Kael’s eyes softened. “Yes. But not before she swore an oath that someone would protect you.”
Elara took the towel and disappeared into the bathroom. She locked the door and finally peeled off her hoodie.
The mark glowed faintly in the mirror—crescent moon, split by a line like a scar. It wasn’t just a symbol. It pulsed with heat, like it breathed.
She touched it.
Visions exploded behind her eyes. A woman screaming. Fire raining from the sky. A throne made of bone. And her own face—older, colder, crowned in silver.
Elara dropped to her knees, gasping.
It stopped.
She crawled to the mirror, heart pounding.
“What are you?” she whispered to her reflection.
A knock broke the silence.
Kael’s voice, muffled: “It’s starting. You’re waking up.”
She opened the door slowly. “What happens now?”
He met her eyes. “Now, we train. And we run. Because every creature in the hidden world knows who you are, Elara. And some will kill to keep you from remembering.”
Elara’s fingers brushed the mark again. This time, it didn’t burn. It throbbed like it belonged to her.
“Then I want to remember,” she said. “All of it.”
Kael smiled grimly. “Then the real war begins.”