Chapter 22

Chapter 22
Marked

Blake's POV

Claire lay so still on the infirmary bed that for a second, I wasn’t sure she was breathing.

The mark—bright silver and pulsing—burned against the side of her neck like moonlight in ink. It was unnatural. Dangerous. And yet, I couldn’t look away.

The symbol twisted and curved in a language I didn’t recognize. It shimmered. Alive. Like it had chosen her. Claimed her.

Neo stood hunched beside me, his hand hovering just above her skin, fingers twitching like he wanted to touch but didn’t dare.

He muttered something under his breath. A curse maybe. Then, louder, “That’s not a healing mark. Not anything I’ve ever seen.”

I glanced at him. “But it’s ancient?”

Neo nodded once. “Old as hell. Maybe older. It’s not from any modern coven or known were-lineage. There’s something primal about it. Something... chosen.”

I flinched at the word.

Chosen.

Like fate had branded her.

My wolf paced beneath my skin. I could feel it, teeth bared, uneasy. Not scared—my wolf didn’t fear. But it didn’t like this. It didn’t like what it couldn’t understand.

And neither did I.

Claire’s chest rose slowly. Weak. Steady. Alive.

“You think this was caused by the violet-fanged wolf?” I asked, voice low.

Neo narrowed his eyes, studying the lines etched into her skin. “That or something inside her woke up tonight.”

Before I could respond, the mark pulsed once—then began to fade. The edges dulled. The silver bled back into her skin until there was nothing left but smooth, untouched flesh. Like it had never existed.

Neo stepped back with a hiss. “Shit. Did you see that?”

I did.

I saw it disappear like smoke in wind.

“It’s hiding,” I said.

Neo crossed his arms. “Or it doesn’t want to be seen. Either way, this isn’t something you report.”

I met his gaze, sharp. “You won’t speak of this to the council.”

He raised a brow. “Blake—”

“I said seal it. Lock it in the archives and erase the entry. She’s already on trial in their eyes. If they find out she’s marked by something none of us can name…”

Neo’s jaw ticked. He was loyal. Not stupid. He understood.

“Fine,” he muttered. “But this mark? It’s not done with her.”

He left, and I stayed.

The room went quiet again.

The only sound was the soft hum of the power warding spells etched into the infirmary walls and the steady beep of the heart monitor beside her.

I sat on the edge of the bed. Watched her face.

Even unconscious, Claire looked like she was carrying too much. Her brows were lightly furrowed, mouth parted. Bruises bloomed along her neck and shoulder, dark fingerprints from the fight. Her wrist had dried blood around it.

The urge to touch her was instant. Instinctual.

I reached forward, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, fingers lingering longer than they should’ve.

Why do you keep surviving?

I didn’t say it out loud, but the words sat bitter on my tongue.

Every time the world tried to kill her, she endured. She bled and still stood. She had no reason to trust me—no reason to come back to the pack after what we’d done to her—but she did.

And somehow, that made her more dangerous than anything else.

My fingers slid down to her jaw.

“You shouldn’t have followed me into this pack,” I murmured. “You should’ve run.”

She didn’t respond, obviously, but her hand twitched faintly. Like her body still heard me even if her mind didn’t.

The pull toward her burned stronger than ever.

I didn’t understand it. I didn’t want to.

Because every step I took toward her pulled her deeper into the storm I’d spent years keeping sealed.

And yet... I couldn’t walk away.

My wolf had known it from the beginning—when she first crossed the border into Mirage-Ember and faced my pack without fear. There was something in her that called to the broken parts of me. Something reckless. Something brave.

Maybe that’s what made her so dangerous.

Maybe that’s why I couldn’t stop myself now.

I leaned forward, fingers brushing the side of her neck where the mark had disappeared. Her skin was warm and soft.

But she wasn’t just werewolf. Not anymore.

Whatever had branded her was powerful enough to hide from even Neo. Powerful enough to choose her.

And my instincts said that power didn’t come without a price.

The door creaked open behind me, and I didn’t turn.

I knew the scent before the voice.

Mirabel.

“Blake,” she said gently, stepping into the room. “You’ve been here all night.”

I said nothing.

“She’ll be fine,” she added, voice soft and low. “Neo said her vitals are stabilizing. You should come get some rest. There’s a pack meeting in the morning. The elders are already whispering.”

Let them whisper.

I didn’t move. My hand was still on Claire’s.

Mirabel took another step forward, her heels clicking on the tiled floor. “You’re the Alpha. You can’t be seen favoring her. Not like this. You know what they’ll think—”

“I don’t care what they think.”

She paused. “Blake—”

“I’m staying.”

I finally looked at her.

Mirabel’s expression flickered—hurt, confusion, maybe something darker—but she quickly smoothed it out with a polite smile. “You’re needed. She’s just one girl.”

I stood, stepping between her and Claire.

“She’s not just anything.”

There was a crack in my voice. Barely audible. But it was there.

Mirabel tilted her head. “You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe for the first time, I’m seeing clearly.”

We stared at each other. Neither of us moved.

Then, like always, she gave in first. Smiled again. But this one didn’t reach her eyes.

“I’ll tell the elders you’re unavailable.”

She turned and walked out, the door clicking shut behind her.

I exhaled slowly and turned back to Claire.

But the moment I did, her eyes fluttered.

My heart stopped.

Her fingers gripped the edge of the blanket.

And then—barely above a whisper—she breathed my name.

“Blake…”

I dropped back to her side. “I’m here.”

Her eyes opened.

Bleary. Confused.

But the next words out of her mouth chilled me to the bone.

“I saw him,” she whispered.

“Who?”

Her hand clutched my arm with surprising strength. Her gaze locked with mine.

“He’s coming.” Claire’s voice shook. “The one with violet eyes.”

I froze.

“Claire,” I said carefully, “What else did you see?”

She stared past me. “She can't be trusted.”

And then she passed out again.

But her last word lingered in the air like poison.

“Mirabel.”