Chapter 246 BOUND BY SILVER
Edeline
He chuckled, shaking his head. "It’s nothing. You earned it. It’s all you," he said, his voice light, teasing again. Then he turned toward the door and called out loudly, "Gage! She’s ready!"
His deep, booming voice echoed through the room, making me flinch a little. Gage was back in an instant, his mood much lighter than before. He grabbed a chair, sitting beside me, and began pulling out a fresh package of needles.
Wait. Silver?
Of course. There was no other way to properly mark a wolf.
A wave of anticipation washed over me, nerves tightening my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut and exhaled slowly, trying to brace myself. I felt Conor’s large hand press firmly into mine, grounding me, keeping me steady. As the motor of the tattoo gun hummed to life, I placed my free hand on Conor’s back, needing the connection.
The moment the silver needle touched my skin, the pain flared—sharp, searing, like my skin was on fire. The ink, infused with silver, burned like acid as it sank into the soft skin on the inside of my arm. I clenched my jaw, pushing through the pain, squeezing Conor’s hand even tighter. The heat was unbearable, but I knew this was my trial, my moment. I wasn’t going to break.
This mark would be mine.
One I’d carry with pride for the rest of my life.
…
I had never experienced anything like the sensation in my arm. It felt as though my inner arm was on fire from the silver needles, mixed with ink and liquid silver. The skin around it was red and swollen, a constant reminder of what I had just done.
"It hurts so much, Conor," I moaned, sprawled out on his big bed. I had wrapped my arm in saran wrap to protect the tattoo while it healed. Gage, the artist, had said it would take a while. It was like a mark on a person; he had warned me it could take up to two weeks before it looked right.
Conor let out a dark laugh as he climbed onto the other side of the bed, lying down next to me. This was something we did sometimes—just talk. Sometimes in my room, sometimes in his. The pack knew we were friends. Some still questioned it, but I didn’t care. I knew him, and that was enough.
In front of us, a reality show played, featuring bad girls who used bleach instead of shampoo on each other. We barely paid attention, both lost in our thoughts.
He leaned over, examining my healing arm, the dark ink stark against my skin. A smile crept onto his face as he asked, "You got your first tattoo. How do you feel?"
I raised an eyebrow and shot back, "Like my arm is being dipped in acid and it is going to melt off?"
His laughter shook the bed, and I couldn’t help but grin, even through the pain. "Okay, now you can really call yourself a warrior."
I could feel the weight of his words. If another pack saw me, they would treat me with respect. He looked at me with pride shining in his eyes, and I couldn’t help but feel a swell of accomplishment.
Inside my mind, my wolf was panting, tongue lolling out and grinning wide. She was thrilled, too. She could see the tattoo colored on the inside of her front leg, where the fur would never grow back. Anyone who saw her would know she had the mark. She was overjoyed.
"You know..." Conor propped himself up, resting his jaw in his hand as he studied me. "I am not saying I want you to leave, because I do not. But my distant cousin, Maxim, the Alpha of Dark Moon… if you ever wanted to really be the best you could be, I could take you there to train. I know your training started as an outlet to heal, but I think you could become something truly special. You have speed, fluid movements, agility… you are a fast learner and you fight hard. With training from both his pack and mine, you could be… undefeated."
His serious tone caught me off guard. This strong Alpha had faith in little old me, and I could hardly wrap my mind around it.
I sat up, my thoughts racing. "You really think so?" My wolf was practically bouncing in excitement.
He nodded, his expression firm. "I do. I believe you could beat any male—well, except for an Alpha." He grinned. "But any male other than an Alpha, I know you could take them with the right training." He paused, his lips pursed in thought.
"How about this: I train you until you reach expert level, then I take you to Dark Moon and let you see what they are about? At this rate, you'll be at expert level in six months if you keep up the training. And that is saying something." His determination radiated from him, filling the room with a sense of possibility.
My wolf barked in my mind, thrilled at the prospect. She was eager to discover what skills she had in one of the world’s sexiest packs. She wanted to know how they lived, to train, to help us grow. Biting my bottom lip, I felt a sudden urge to push myself to the limits of what I thought was possible. Conor's gaze locked onto mine, curiosity and encouragement mixed in his eyes.
"I want to do it." A smile stretched across my face, revealing my teeth. "But I don’t want six months. I want two. I want to be better than anyone I’ve ever met. I know you said there will always be someone better, but I want to be better than the ones I know… aside from the Alpha, of course." I rolled my eyes as I smiled.
I got down on my knees to look him in the eye. "I want to be a real warrior. I want to fight in battle. I want to—" I repeated the words, letting them sink in.
With wide eyes, he said, "Whoa, Edeline. Calm down." He laughed, but I shot him a look, my eyes dark and serious. "No one can do that in two months. Not even me."