I didn't shift that night.
Even after Kane left the clearing and I was alone with my thoughts and my rising heat, I still held myself back. Something in me resisted the wolf. As if letting her out meant giving in—to the past, to the bond, to everything Kane said I could become.
So I went home.
My clothes were damp and my skin smelled like moss and moonlight. I peeled them off like they were a second skin, shed not just from rain but from memory. After a hot shower, I stood in front of the mirror with my fingers curled tightly around the porcelain sink, avoiding my reflection.
But I saw it anyway.
Not the tired eyes or the water-matted curls.
It was the mark.
A faint shimmer on the inside of my left wrist, no larger than a thumbprint. It hadn't been there yesterday.
Now it pulsed faintly, like something alive beneath my skin.
I traced it with the pad of my finger. It felt warm. Unfamiliar. Wrong.
But the worst part?
It also felt right.
The next morning, I woke to knocking on the clinic's front door before I'd even finished unlocking the cabinets. I wiped my hands on my scrub top and headed down the hall, yawning.
"Sorry, we're not open until—"
I stopped short.
A woman stood outside, tall, sharp-featured, dressed in a high-collared black coat with silver clasps. Her eyes were an unnatural shade of violet. Not contacts. Not human.
She smiled, slow and deliberate.
"Elara Moonveil," she said. "You've grown into your name."
I didn't open the door.
"Who are you?" I asked, keeping my hand near the concealed blade we kept under the counter—a silver-coated scalpel Dr. Avery never asked about.
The woman tilted her head, amused. "Your mother never warned you about the Vesperen, did she?"
A chill ran down my back.
"No," I said carefully.
"Pity," she said. "Then again, she always was a coward."
I bared my teeth. "Leave."
The air seemed to darken, just for a moment.
"I came as a courtesy," she said, tapping her fingers against the glass. "To warn you. There are others who will not be as polite."
I gripped the door frame to stop my hand from shaking. "Warn me about what?"
She leaned forward, her violet eyes glinting.
"The claiming has begun. Your scent is no longer hidden, your blood no longer dormant. You are the last of Moonveil. You are prey. And every rogue, mercenary, and forgotten pack across the Ridge will come for you."
I swallowed hard.
"And if I don't want the bloodline?" I said, voice barely above a whisper.
She smiled again—wide, cold.
"Want has nothing to do with it. Power answers only to survival."
She turned, disappearing into the fog as if she were never there.
I called Kane.
I don't know why. Maybe because he was the only one who didn't flinch when I cried. Maybe because his voice felt like iron in my storm.
He answered on the second ring. "Where are you?"
"The clinic," I said. "Someone came. A woman. She knew who I was."
A pause. "Describe her."
"Violet eyes. Black coat. Smelled like… burnt sugar and metal."
Kane swore under his breath.
"She's Vesperen. A blood seeker. The council must've sent her to test your threshold."
"Test me?" I snapped. "Like I'm some kind of cursed artifact?"
"You are," he said grimly. "To them. And now that your mark has appeared, there's no more hiding."
I looked down at my wrist.
The shimmer was brighter today.
"What do I do?" I asked.
Kane hesitated. "Pack your things. Tonight you're coming with me."
I didn't argue. Not this time.
By nightfall, I had a duffel bag over my shoulder, my keys locked in the mailbox, and a note left for Dr. Avery saying I needed time off. I told her I was safe.
That was only half true.
Kane met me at the edge of town in a matte black Jeep that smelled like pine and leather and danger. He didn't speak as I climbed in, and I didn't ask where we were going.
He drove.
Through winding hills and forest roads that grew narrower the farther we got from Ashridge. Eventually, he pulled off onto a hidden gravel path marked with runes burned into the wood.
"What is this place?" I asked as we reached a gate made of steel and old stone.
He glanced at me, expression unreadable. "The Sanctuary. It's neutral ground. Protected. It's where we train, regroup, and decide who lives."
"Comforting," I muttered.
Inside, the compound was quieter than I expected. No howls. No wolves prowling the perimeter. Just a few sentries and soft lights glowing behind windows. It looked almost… normal.
But my instincts screamed otherwise.
He led me into a stone-walled building with arched ceilings and fire-lit halls. The warmth soaked into my skin, chasing off the chill of fear.
"I don't trust easily," I said.
Kane stopped in front of a door and looked at me.
"Neither do I."
He pushed the door open. A simple room. Bed. Chair. Books. No locks.
"This is yours. For now."
I stepped inside and dropped my bag on the bed.
"Kane," I said before he turned to leave.
He paused.
"If this is war, why me? Why now?"
He didn't answer right away.
Then: "Because your blood carries more than just a name. It carries a choice. And if you don't make it soon, someone else will make it for you."
And with that, he left me alone with the fire, the silence, and the mark that glowed like moonlight on my wrist.