CHAPTER 43: Brief Awakening of the Marked On
CHAPTER 43: Brief Awakening of the Marked On
"Beloved..."
The voice was gentle yet firm, slicing through the haze of pain and fear. Her eyelids fluttered open, vision blurred, but she recognized the familiar mask, the piercing eyes that haunted both her dreams and waking hours. But this time, instead of mismatched eyes, they were gold.
"Are you hurt?" His voice was calm, steady, a chilling contrast to the storm raging within her.
A sob tore from her throat. Words failed her.
His expression darkened. "Did they touch you?"
She trembled, breath shallow, suffocating under the weight of horror pressing against her chest like an immovable stone.
He exhaled sharply. Then, quieter, softer, yet deadlier, he spoke again.
"Close your eyes. Do not open them until I am done."
She obeyed, squeezing them shut, waiting.
Then, a voice rang out.
"Who dares stand in our way?" one of the men sneered.
He did not answer.
The very air trembled, thick with an unearthly force, monstrous and beyond mortal comprehension. His body shifted, bones cracking, muscles contorting. A beast emerged before them, a creature of legend, towering and black as the abyss.
The men stumbled back.
"A Lycan! They are real!"
"Impossible!" another cried. "They were wiped out long ago!"
Panic seized them. They turned, shifting into their wolf forms, desperate to flee, but it was too late.
Mate.
The voice rumbled through her, not spoken, but felt, deep in her bones, in her very soul. A force so strong it made her breath hitch.
My mate. Mine to touch. Mine to claim.
She gasped, an unknown power rising within her, an untamed force, potent and raw.
A sickening tear of flesh pulled her back to the moment, the wails of the dying men echoing through the forest.
Mate. My beloved, my soul, my other half. Mine to take. Mine to have.
The voice whispered in her mind, igniting something deeper, a force tethered to blood and fate.
A burning sensation seared the back of her neck, the mark of restraint glowing with an otherworldly light.
What was happening?
It was too much. Too overwhelming. Her emotions surged, raw and untamed.
Another cry, a final, agonized scream, snapped her back to reality.
Pain.
Something inside her clawed to be free. Begging. Demanding.
Her fangs elongated.
She touched her mouth, two sharp points pressing against her fingertip.
Her nails... no, claws... gleamed under the moonlight.
"No..."
It couldn’t be.
She turned her gaze forward and saw the beast standing amidst the carnage, severed limbs and blood pooling at its feet.
It was unlike any werewolf she had ever seen.
Towering. Mighty. Unrecognizable.
And then it turned.
Her breath seized.
Glowing golden eyes bore into her, piercing, familiar, terrifying.
The same eyes as that night. The same eyes that had called to her.
The world spun, shadows swallowing her whole. Then, nothing.
\---
A day later in the morning, she roused with a throbbing head and an ache that settled deep within her very marrow. The bed beneath her was far too soft, the air thick with an unfamiliar scent.
Her eyes fluttered open, taking in the grand yet unrecognized chamber. This was not her quarters.
A slow dread unfurled within her chest as realization took hold. This was no ordinary chamber within the castle.
This was his domain.
Alpha Demetrius.
Her lord. The man she despised.
Why had he been brought here?
Then understanding struck her like a blade to the heart.
They had violated Milicent. They had dishonored her.
A tremor wracked her frame as she sprang from the bed, striding toward the door—only to halt, breath catching.
Those men had struck her down with unrelenting cruelty. By all logic, she should be broken, scarcely able to stand. And yet… she remained unscathed, her limbs steady, her body whole.
Then—
By the gods.
A dreadful truth seized her in its iron grasp. It had not been the throes of fevered delirium. She had changed that night… become something else.
The realization gnawed at her, merciless and unyielding. She was not what she had always believed herself to be.
A dragon.
She was a white Dragon.
She had seen it clearly in her vision.How?
The door swung open.
Dylia, the healer, stepped inside and halted before her.
“Luna Aurora ,” she greeted with a respectful nod.
Aria remained silent.
“How fare you this morning?”
“I would see Milicent.” She did not acknowledge the inquiry.
“Luna, be at ease. She is well.”
“I would see my handmaiden, Milicent.” Her tone was firm, leaving no room for argument as she strode past the healer.
“Where is she?” she demanded, not bothering to glance back, her steps quickening.
“In your chambers, Luna.”
The woman who lay upon the bed was not the Milicent she had known. That girl had been joyous, untouched by cruelty—until yesterday. Now, she was but a shadow of herself, frail and broken.
Aria’s gaze darkened. “How fares her condition?”
“She will recover, Luna. I have given her a draught, and she has taken it, only that…” Dylia hesitated, causing Aria to turn sharply toward her.
“Only that what?”
“She has refused all nourishment. She has neither spoken nor opened her eyes since.”
The room fell into a heavy silence.
“She has not opened her eyes?” Aria echoed.
Dylia bowed her head. “Forgive me, my Luna. Milicent is shattered, not only in body, but in spirit. None may compel her to wake unless she chooses to face the world once more. At present, she lingers in a place where she believes she is safe.”
A sudden creak of hinges broke the hush.
They turned as the door swung open.
Beta Cedric strode in, his gaze immediately finding the motionless form upon the bed.
A sharp intake of breath.
He stepped forward, one foot after the other, as though drawn by some unseen force. His eyes glistened, his throat constricting around words unsaid.
“Little… Dove.” The whisper trembled from his lips, raw with anguish.
Aria stilled, watching the scene unfold. A flicker of surprise crossed her features. She had not expected such an outpouring of emotion from him.
There was more to this.
Something between them.
Something deep.
“Come,” she murmured at last, turning toward the door. “Let us grant them privacy.”
Dylia inclined her head and followed as Aria stepped into the corridor, leaving Cedric alone beside Milicent’s bedside.
\---
The Witch’s Clan
Within the sacred tower, deep in the heart of the altar, an elder witch sat cross-legged, her hands resting upon her lap, palms open to the unseen forces that swirled about her. Eyes shut in deep meditation, she whispered ancient incantations, her voice weaving through the chamber in a cadence lost to time.
The air thickened. The flames of the surrounding braziers flickered wildly, as if seized by an unseen hand.
Then, without warning, she convulsed. A violent cough tore through her chest, and blood spurted from her lips, staining the floor in dark crimson.
A cry rang out.
“Grand Seer!”
The witches rushed to her side, their hands trembling as they steadied her frail frame.
With labored breath, she lifted her gaze, her clouded eyes gleaming with the weight of revelation.
“The prophecy,” she rasped. “I have seen the prophecy.”
A collective gasp filled the chamber.
"Two stars were born beneath the same sky, yet their light could never touch. One, bathed in fire, scorched all in its path. The other, wrapped in silver mist, sought to mend what was broken. But the fire burned too fiercely, and the mist, though strong, could not smother its wrath. The land trembled, rivers ran red, and the air filled with the cries of the perished. This is my vision."
To witness a vision was one thing. But for a Seer to bleed from it… the omen could be nothing short of catastrophe.
The room fell deathly silent as the Grand Seer began to explain her parables, her voice a mere whisper yet heavy with portent.
"I saw two beings of great power, bound by fate yet divided by purpose. One is destined to destroy, the other to save. But the one who brings ruin shall triumph, and when they do, an entire clan shall be erased from existence."
Murmurs of dread rippled through the witches.
“Who?” one dared to ask.
The Seer exhaled a slow breath, her fingers curling as if grasping something unseen.
“This being,” she continued, “is unlike any before. They are neither bound by a single gift nor shackled to a single path. They will wield more than one power, a force beyond reckoning.”