MARKED BY NAME

MARKED BY NAME
Ares’s Point of View

I’d seen hundreds of pickpockets in my life.

Quick hands. Shaky eyes. Mistimed exits.

But never—never—had I seen someone catch Tessa.

She was fast. Subtle. Light as air. I'd taught her a few tricks, sure, but she had the instinct long before I came along. The man she chose had been standing alone, reading a book like he didn’t belong in a market. He looked more like a bored noble than a target.

And yet, in a blink, he’d caught her wrist mid-motion like he’d been expecting her.

That wasn’t luck. That was instinct. Trained instinct.

By the time I cut through the crowd, I saw him gripping her—not cruelly, but with calm precision, like someone handling a venomous snake with bare hands. My vision sharpened, and every muscle in my body screamed to act.

I stepped between them, my growl low and threatening.

He didn't even flinch.

“Touch her again,” I said, “and I’ll rip your hand off.”

His eyes locked on mine. Calm. Cold. Unreadable.

He was older than me, but not by much. Sharp edges framed a face carved in control—like he was always calculating three moves ahead. But what unsettled me most wasn’t the confidence in his stance or the way he smiled when others would’ve stepped back.

It was what he said next.

“Ares.”

He said it like he knew me.

Not just my name. But me.

I froze. My jaw clenched. A gust of wind blew between us, tossing the edge of his green cloak and sending goosebumps prickling down my neck.

“It’s been a long time,” he added, almost wistfully.

A tight silence fell between us.

“How do you know my name?” I asked, my voice low, cautious.

The man tilted his head, the hint of a smirk dancing at the corners of his mouth.

“You underestimate your reputation,” he said. “You’re far more famous in these lands than you think.”

That made my chest tighten. I had worked hard to not be known. To keep my bloodline quiet. To let the past fade like smoke.

I took a step closer. “I don’t know you.”

“Not yet,” he said. “But you will.”

Tessa, still beside me, gently pulled at my sleeve. “Ares, I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her voice trembled a little, not from fear—but from realization. “He’s… someone important, isn’t he?”

The man turned his eyes on her, a small shadow of amusement crossing his face.

“There will be consequences for theft,” he said, voice calm but final. “The queen will decide what to do with you both.”

Queen?

That caught my attention.

“Consequences?” I stepped in front of Tessa again. “If you want to drag us into some royal dungeon, you’ll have to fight me first.”

At that, the man actually laughed—a single breath of sound, dry and amused.

“I’m not here to fight you, Ares.”

“Then who are you?”

I hated how calm he remained. I hated how easily he deflected and how deeply he looked at me—like I was a piece of a puzzle he already had most of the edges to.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he tucked his hands behind his back, glancing once toward the green flags hanging above the square. People passed us, unbothered. No one screamed. No one intervened. Somehow, none of them felt what I was feeling.

Only he and I stood in the eye of this invisible storm.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said finally. “The queen is expecting you.”

My blood chilled. “What?”

“She’ll want to meet you,” he continued, “especially now that you’re here.”

“And why would she care about—?”

He looked at me again, this time softer.

“You’ll understand soon.”

He began to turn, fading into the crowd like a shadow too disciplined to chase.

“Wait!” I called after him. “What do you want with us?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Nothing more than fate already does.”

Then he disappeared—like smoke through the branches of a dying forest.

Tessa stepped beside me, her fingers finding mine. “What just happened?”

I didn’t answer her.

Because for the first time in years…
I was being hunted again.

And the worst part?

I think I already knew why.

Then the guards came.

Four of them, all in Mistefell green and silver. Their armor gleamed like frost under the overcast sky. They moved with practiced efficiency, cutting through the crowd with a kind of trained grace that only meant one thing—royal detail.

One of them—a tall woman with a scar across her brow—stopped before us and gave the briefest bow of her head.

“You are to come with us.”

Tessa tensed beside me. I could feel it in her shoulders, in the way her fingers slowly curled into fists. She hadn’t said much since that man vanished into the crowd. I didn’t blame her.

I turned to the guard. “And if we refuse?”

She didn’t blink. “Then we’ll carry you.”

I stared at her for a long moment, then chuckled and looked down at Tessa.

“You hear that?” I muttered. “The royal welcome. I’ve never been this popular.”

Tessa didn’t answer. Her expression had gone unreadable again—calm, watchful. She had that look she wore when she was stealing in silence, when every muscle of her body was listening. She wasn’t about to trust anyone, least of all people dressed like they owned the world.

Another guard gestured toward the alley beside us, where a sleek black carriage awaited—trimmed in silver vines and marked with the seal of the kingdom. Mistefell’s carrier. Not a merchant’s wagon. Not a soldier’s patrol.

Royal transport.

“I didn’t pack my crown,” I said under my breath.

Still no answer from her.

“Tessa?” I tried.

She finally looked at me, and her eyes weren’t playful or worried—they were focused.

“We don’t know what’s waiting at the end of that ride,” she said quietly. “Don’t act amused.”

I paused. Nodded once.

Right.

I was trying to lighten the mood. Pretend it was nothing. But she was right. Something was off—about the man, about the way the guards arrived so quickly, and most of all about the mention of a queen expecting us. That wasn’t normal.

I climbed into the carriage first, making sure to sit closest to the window and farthest from the guards. Tessa climbed in after me, staying quiet, her posture rigid.

As soon as the doors shut, the horses took off with a smooth jolt.

We didn’t speak for the first few minutes.

The carriage wheels rolled over cobblestone, the sound of hooves and metal echoing down narrow roads. Every now and then, I’d peek out the small window. Mistefell was beautiful—if you liked towering stone, creeping ivy, and a city that looked like it could swallow a man whole. The buildings curled upward like thorns, each block built with a kind of dark elegance that almost felt… ancient.

Tessa finally broke the silence.

“Do you think she’s the one who sent that man?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “But whoever he was, he knew too much.”

“He knew your name.”

“That’s what worries me.”

I leaned my head back against the wooden frame. The motion of the carriage lulled my thoughts into a mess. I tried to sort through faces, memories, old battles, old betrayals. But none of them matched that man’s voice. His eyes. The calm in him. The way he said It’s been a long time like we shared something I couldn’t remember.

The ride stretched longer than expected. We passed the merchant district, then the council towers, then climbed higher into the city’s heart. I saw domed towers—royal architecture, no doubt—and guards stationed like statues at every corner.

Eventually, the carriage stopped.

I felt it in the way the wheels rolled over smooth stone before halting.

A moment later, the door swung open, and the same scarred woman gave us a look that wasn’t quite hostile but far from friendly.

“This way.”

Tessa and I stepped down. The palace gates stood ahead—tall, silver, gleaming like something out of a legend. Beyond them, rows of marble pillars and emerald banners stretched into a grand hall.

I hadn’t seen something this ornate since—

No.

I shut that thought down before it could rise.

That life was gone.

We were led through the main courtyard. Nobles watched us from shaded balconies. I could feel their stares. Their whispers.

But I wasn’t here for them.

I was here for answers.

And I had a growing feeling we were about to get them.

Just… not the ones we wanted.

Tessa brushed her hand near mine, a silent question.

Are you ready for this?

I didn’t answer aloud. I just nodded once.

But inside?

No.

I wasn’t ready.

Because if that man from earlier was right, and the queen really had been expecting us…

Then this wasn’t a coincidence.

It was a summons.

And worse?

It meant someone had been watching us for far longer than we knew.