Chapter 10 Blood and Incense

The transition from the neon-soaked city to the jagged, frost-bitten peaks of the North was a journey into a different century. As Scarlett drove their stolen SUV higher into the mountain passes, the modern world seemed to evaporate, replaced by ancient pines that clawed at the gray sky like the fingers of a buried giant.

Beside her, Caleb was a silent, brooding presence. Since the "Marking" at the Sanctuary, his aura had become so dense that the very metal of the car seemed to vibrate with his suppressed power. He wasn't the wounded man she had found in her bathtub anymore; he was a storm held behind a thin veil of human skin.

"We are being followed," Caleb said, his voice a low vibration that made the rearview mirror tremble.

Scarlett glanced at the mirror. Three black SUVs were weaving through the mist behind them, their headlights like the eyes of hungry predators. "Julian?"

"No," Caleb murmured, his golden eyes narrowing. "These aren't Thorne's lapdogs. I smell the scent of the Grey-Back mercenaries. Scavengers. They heard the King was broken, and they’ve come to claim the bounty on my head."

Before Scarlett could respond, a sudden impact jolted the car. One of the SUVs had rammed their bumper. Scarlett fought the steering wheel as they skidded dangerously close to the edge of a ravine.

"Stop the car, Scarlett," Caleb commanded. His voice held a chilling calmness that was far more terrifying than a shout.

"Caleb, there are at least a dozen of them—"

"Stop. The. Car."

Scarlett slammed on the brakes, the SUV screeching to a halt in the middle of the desolate mountain road. The mercenary vehicles swarmed around them, blocking their path. Heavy doors slammed open, and a dozen massive, scarred men stepped out, their muscles bulging beneath leather armor, their eyes already turning yellow with the shift.

Scarlett reached for her jade brush, her heart hammering. "I can set up a defensive perimeter—"

Caleb’s hand clamped over hers, his grip warm and absolute. "No. Today, you do not use your ink. Today, you watch."

He stepped out of the car into the biting cold. As the mercenaries closed in, laughing and baring their fangs, Caleb didn't transform. He didn't need to. He simply stood there as the first attacker lunged.

What followed wasn't a fight; it was an execution.

Scarlett watched through the windshield, her breath hitching in her throat. Caleb moved with a speed that defied human biology. He was a blur of black silk and silver-white shadow. There was no wasted motion—only the sickening sound of snapping bone and the spray of crimson against the white snow. He tore through the mercenaries with a cold, mechanical brutality, his hands becoming lethal weapons that didn't just strike, but shredded.

Within minutes, the mountain road was silent again, save for the howling wind and the heavy thud of bodies hitting the frozen earth.

Caleb turned back toward the SUV. He was drenched in blood—not his own. His black shirt was plastered to his chest, and his face was splattered with red, making his glowing golden eyes stand out like two suns in a nightmare.

He opened the driver-side door and looked down at Scarlett. The sheer, overwhelming violence of what she had just witnessed made her shrink back into her seat. This was the man the novel had promised—the executioner who would eventually claim her life.

"You're afraid," Caleb noted, his voice a dark, velvety rasp. He reached out a blood-stained hand, but stopped just inches from her cheek. "Do not be. I told you, you are the only thing my wolf recognizes as home. I do not destroy my home."

He climbed into the passenger seat, the scent of copper filling the car, suffocatingly thick. "I am... tainted," he murmured, a sudden flash of vulnerability crossing his face as he looked at his crimson-soaked hands. "The curse... it makes the bloodlust harder to control."

Scarlett looked at him, her fear warring with the healer's instinct she couldn't suppress. She reached into her bag and pulled out a small porcelain bowl of enchanted water and a clean cloth.

"Sit still," she whispered, her hands still trembling.

She began to wipe the blood from his face, her movements slow and deliberate. As she worked, she chanted a low, rhythmic cleansing mantra in her native tongue. With every stroke of the cloth, she funneled a tiny spark of her Eastern spiritual energy into him, washing away the lingering darkness of the slaughter.

Caleb closed his eyes, leaning into her touch like a mountain bowing to the wind. The jagged, terrifying tension in his shoulders slowly dissolved under her care.

"Your magic..." he whispered, his eyes opening to find hers. The lethality was gone, replaced by a soul-bound obsession that made Scarlett’s breath catch for an entirely different reason. "It is the only thing that silences the screaming in my head."

He caught her wrist, pulling her hand to his lips and kissing her blood-stained palm. "Why do you keep saving me, Scarlett? You know what I am. You know what I will do to your family."

"I'm not saving a King," Scarlett whispered, her heart breaking as she realized she was no longer just acting for survival. "I'm saving the man who stayed with me in the dark."

Caleb leaned forward, his forehead resting against hers, the fake mark on his neck pulsing with a new, permanent heat. "Then keep saving me, little witch. Because if you stop... I will burn the whole world down just to find the light again."