57. The Mark That Should Not Be.

Adrian POV

The training room was never quiet.

It breathed with power.

Even when no one was inside, the walls carried echoes of claws striking stone, of growls ripped from chests, of bodies pushed past their limits. It was a place of discipline, control—things I was rapidly losing.

I didn’t knock.

I didn’t pause.

I stormed in.

Lucy was in the middle of practice, her movements sharp and precise, sweat glistening faintly on her skin as she struck the reinforced dummy with controlled fury. Her hair was tied back, her breathing steady, her focus absolute.

And for a second—just one—I hesitated.

Because she looked like nothing had happened.

Like she hadn’t shattered something sacred.

Like she hadn’t crawled into my bed and changed the course of my life.

The hesitation died instantly.

“What did you do?” I demanded, my voice cutting through the room like a blade.

She turned.

Slowly.

Her eyes met mine without surprise.

Her eyes held guilt and annoyance.

I crossed the space between us in seconds.

Before she could react, before she could step back, I grabbed her wrist.

Hard.

Her eyes flashed.

“Adrian—”

I didn’t let her finish.

My other hand moved, ripping the fabric of her training top down her shoulder, tearing it just enough—only enough—to expose skin.

I wasn’t gentle.

I wasn’t careful.

I was desperate.

And there it was.

The mark.

Glowing faintly against her skin, alive, unmistakable.

The Luna mark.

My breath left my body like it had been punched out of me.

The room tilted.

My grip loosened—not because I wanted it to, but because my mind couldn’t hold itself together.

“No,” I whispered. “No… this isn’t possible.”

The mark pulsed once, as if mocking me.

Then Lucy shoved me.

Hard.

I stumbled back a step, more from shock than force.

Her eyes burned.

“Don’t touch me like that again,” she snapped. “Ever.”

Lucy POV

I felt it before I saw it.

The storm.

Adrian didn’t walk into the training room—he invaded it.

I knew why.

I had been waiting for this moment since the morning he left without a word, since the way he couldn’t even look at me after the mark revealed itself. I knew the silence wouldn’t last.

Still, I hadn’t expected violence.

When his hand closed around my wrist, instinct screamed. When he tore my clothes, humiliation flared hot and sharp—but beneath it was something else.

Power.

Because I knew what he would see.

And when his breath hitched the moment his eyes landed on the glowing mark, something inside me hardened.

Yes.

You see it now.

Good.

When I shoved him away, I didn’t hold back.

He deserved that much.

The way he stared at me—like I was a mistake carved into flesh—made my chest tighten, but I refused to let it show.

“What did you do?” he asked again, his voice quieter now. Broken.

I laughed.

A sharp, bitter sound.

“What did I do?” I repeated. “Isn’t that funny?”

He took a step forward, then stopped himself, like he was afraid to touch me again.

“How,” he said. “How did you do this?”

I tilted my head, mock curiosity on my face.

“Maybe,” I said slowly, “you loved me.”

The way his face changed—rage, denial, disbelief all at once—was almost satisfying.

“You’re lying,” he said.

I smiled coldly.

“Am I?”

Adrian POV

Her words hit harder than any blow.

Loved her?

The idea was absurd.

Impossible.

My chest tightened—not with recognition, but with rejection.

“I don’t love you,” I said, the words coming out harsher than intended. “You know that.”

Lucy crossed her arms, unbothered.

“Then explain the mark.”

I couldn’t.

That was the problem.

The mark only appeared when the bond was true. When the Alpha accepted his Luna—mind, body, soul.

That was the law.

That was history.

That was everything.

And yet there it was.

Glowing on her skin like a lie carved by the gods themselves.

“You did something,” I said. “You used something. What ever you did, I'll catch you.”

Her eyes flickered.

Just for a second.

But I caught it.

“You forced me,” I continued, my voice shaking now. “You drugged my instincts. You clouded my senses.”

Her jaw tightened.

“And yet,” she said quietly, “you still touched me. You still claimed me. You still completed it.”

That word twisted something deep in my chest.

I turned away, pacing, running my hands through my hair.

“This has never happened,” I said. “An Alpha mating without love and the mark still appearing—it defies the Lunar laws.”

Lucy laughed again, but this time it wasn’t mocking.

It was tired.

“Maybe,” she said, “the laws don’t care about your feelings.”

I spun back to face her.

“You manipulated me.”

She met my gaze without flinching.

“I survived.”

Lucy's POV

He looked like a man standing on the edge of a cliff, afraid to look down.

Good.

Because that’s exactly where I had been pushed.

“You think I wanted this?” I asked. “You think I woke up one day and decided to destroy myself just to trap you?”

He said nothing.

I took a step closer.

“They threatened to strip me of everything,” I continued. “My title. My power. My place. And you—” I laughed softly. “You wouldn’t even look at me.”

His fists clenched.

“I begged you,” I said. “On my knees. For dignity. For choice.”

He flinched.

“And you told me wolves don’t mate without desire,” I finished. “So I found another way.”

The silence stretched between us.

“I didn’t do this to trap you,” I said quietly. “I did it because I had no one else.”

He swallowed.

“You could have told me,” he said.

“I tried.”

His gaze dropped to the mark again.

“And now,” I said, stepping back, “it doesn’t matter what you feel. The mark is there. The gods have spoken.”

I turned toward the exit.

“Accept the truth, Adrian,” I said over my shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do about it.”

And I walked out.

Adrian

The doors closed behind her.

The training room felt colder.

Empty.

I stared at the spot where she’d stood, my mind replaying everything—her words, the glow of the mark, the memory of that night.

The way my body had responded.

The way my control had shattered.

The way I hadn’t been able to stop myself.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Lucy wasn’t my Luna.

Rose was— I love Rose.

I cut the thought off sharply.

No.

I pressed my hand to my chest, breathing hard.

The gods don’t make mistakes.

But neither do they lie.

So what does that make this?

I was still standing there when realization hit me like a slow, sinking weight.

Whatever Lucy had done…

Whatever thing she’d survived…

Whatever price she’d paid…

The mark was real.

And now?

So were the consequences.