THE MARK OF THE CHOSEN

THE MARK OF THE CHOSEN

AYLA'S POV

I wake up feeling... weird.

It is not the usual kind of weird. It is not the bad dream kind, or the slept-on-my-arm-wrong kind. It’s something else. Like a buzzing under my skin, soft but steady. Almost like something is trying to get my attention.

I sit up slowly, rubbing my face as the morning light creeps in through the room we have been crashing in.

Even though Thane has won the trial and acknowledged as Alpha, the ceremony hasn't taken place and until it does, Thane absolutely refuses to move into the master bedroom

Speaking of Thane, he is already up, I can hear his voice outside, low and tense. Probably arguing with Garrick again. They’ve been at each other a lot lately. About strategy, about the rogues, about me.

I glance down and that’s when I see it.

It’s on the inside of my left wrist. A mark. I know for a fact it wasn’t there last night. It’s not a scar, not a bruise. It’s... gold. Like, literally gold. The shape is strange. Almost like a swirl of flame, or a twisted thread. It glows faintly, but only when I stare too long. The second I blink, it looks like a regular tattoo.

“What the hell?” I mutter as I reach out and touch it.

A jolt shoots up my arm.

I gasp, jerking my hand back. For a second, I’m not in this room. I’m not even me. I feel something... ancient. Old power. Wild. Hungry. It’s whispering things I can’t understand, and my heart starts pounding so hard it hurts.

Then it stops. Like someone cut the wire.

My breathing is loud now. Way too loud.

The door creaks open, and Thane walks in. His eyes land on me immediately, and they narrow.

"You okay?"

I nod too fast. "Yeah. Just... weird dream."

He doesn’t buy it. Of course, he doesn’t. He walks over and squats down in front of me, elbows on his knees.

"Let me see your wrist."

My mouth opens, then shuts. He saw it. Somehow, he saw it from the door?

I hold it out slowly.

He stares at the mark for a long time. Doesn’t touch it, just looks. Then finally he says, "That wasn’t there before."

"Nope. Pretty sure I would remember having glowing gold ink burned into my skin."

His jaw clenches. "This... this might be because of that beat it deity or whatever.. Maybe it is tied to the temple. To you."

My heart sinks. I don’t want it to be tied to me. I just want it gone.

Before I can say anything, Garrick walks in without knocking, which… rude.

“I wasn't done -” He takes one look at my wrist and stops cold.

"It’s happening," he mutters.

I frown. "What’s happening?"

He meets my eyes. His expression is tight, like he’s trying not to panic. "You have been marked by the old bloodline. The prophecy. It’s unfolding now. And you—" he points right at me, "—you’re the center of it."

Great. Just what I needed. More prophecy nonsense.

The day only gets worse.

The rogues are restless. Two of the more aggressive leaders, a guy named Flint and a woman named Mara start stirring things up. They’re whispering about breaking off, going their own way, saying we’re just leading them in circles.

Thane tries to talk to them. Garrick tries to intimidate them. Neither works.

So I step up.

I don’t even plan to. It just happens. They’re yelling in the middle of the broken courtyard, the rest of the group watching, tense and ready to fight. And then I’m walking right into the middle of it before I can stop myself.

"You wanna run? Fine," I say, loud enough for everyone to hear. "But you won’t last a week. Not with whatever is crawling around those ruins. Not with that thing still out there. You think we.are the problem? Wait until you are alone. See how fast you come crawling back."

Flint glares at me. "You.are just a girl with a shiny magic."

I smile. It’s not a nice smile. "And you’re a coward pretending to be a leader."

For a second, I think he is going to shift right here and try to attack me. But then Mara puts a hand on his arm. She’s staring at me differently now. Like she’s seeing something new.

"We stay," she says quietly. "For now."

Flint looks pissed, but he nods.

When they walk off, Thane walks up beside me.

"You keep doing that," he says.

"Doing what?"

"Taking charge. Making people listen."

I shrug. "Didn’t feel like I had a choice."

He looks at me, and for a second, something’s there in his eyes. Something softer. Something... warm.

He doesn’t say anything else. Just walks off.

Of course he does.

That night, I sit alone at the stairs leading into the mansion.

I don’t know why. Something about the air feels different. Like it’s pressing in. Thicker. Heavier. My wrist itches. Not the skin, the mark.

I roll up my sleeve and stare at it.

It’s glowing again. Just faintly.

I press my fingers against it. Nothing happens this time.

But I feel it. A tug. Like it’s calling me.

Not loud. Not urgent. Just... steady. Like it knows I’ll come eventually.

UNKNOWN POV

Below the ruins, far below the dirt and the bones and the cracked stone walls... something wakes.

It doesn’t remember its name. It doesn’t need to.

It remembers hunger.

It remembers blood.

It remembers golden light, and the screams of those who tried to control it.

The walls around it pulse. Not with life. With pressure. With time.

It feels the mark awaken on the girl’s skin. It knows her. Not as Ayla. But as the one. The thread. The final piece.

Soon.

The stones crack a little more. The rot shifts.

It waits.

And hungers.

AYLA'S POV
I rub my arms. It’s not cold, but I feel like something just walked o
ver my grave.

And I swear I hear a whisper that doesn’t belong to any voice I’ve ever known.

But when I turn... there’s nothing there.

Yet.