Chapter 9 The Predator’s Awakening

The morning after the "marking" felt different. The air in the Sanctuary’s narrow suite was no longer just heavy with incense; it was charged with a restless, crackling energy that made the hair on Scarlett’s arms stand up. The fake mark on Caleb’s neck—a faint, silver-crimson tracing of her blood—seemed to pulse in time with her own heartbeat.

Scarlett sat at the small wooden desk, her fingers trembling as she tried to draw a fresh set of spirit-seals. But her concentration was shattered. Every time she moved, she could feel Caleb’s gaze on her. He wasn't sleeping anymore. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his broad chest bare, watching her with the silent, unwavering focus of a wolf watching its mate from the treeline.

"You’re staring," Scarlett said, not looking back.

"I am observing," Caleb corrected, his voice no longer the rasping struggle of an amnesiac, but a smooth, dark baritone that commanded the space around him. "The way you draw those symbols... it is like watching a weaver spin fate. But your hands are shaking, Scarlett. Is the 'fake' bond taking its toll on you?"

Scarlett finally turned, her chair scraping harshly against the stone floor. "The bond is a facade, Caleb. It’s the exhaustion of holding back Julian’s Void-Curse that’s taking its toll. We need to move. Julian will realize the trick sooner or later."

Caleb rose, his movements now possessing a lethal, predatory grace that hadn't been there yesterday. The curse was still there, a dark shadow in his soul, but the Mark had given his inner wolf a tether to reality. He walked toward her, and Scarlett instinctively backed against the desk.

"You think he is the only threat," Caleb murmured, stopping only when he was inches away. He reached out, his long fingers grazing the mark on his neck, then moving to touch her chin, forcing her to look up. "Last night, when you marked me... the fog in my mind didn't just thin. It cleared. I remember the smell of the silver dagger. I remember the sound of the incantation that broke my spirit."

Scarlett’s heart plummeted. "You... you remember who did it?"

"I remember the faces," Caleb whispered, his golden eyes burning with a terrifying, lucid brilliance. "But more importantly, I remember the feeling of power. My wolf is no longer sleeping, Scarlett. He is hungry. And he is very, very grateful to the woman who gave him back his teeth."

He leaned in, his shadow enveloping her. The intimacy was no longer a desperate plea for help; it was a claim. "Julian thinks I am your dog. Let him think that. It will make it easier to tear his throat out when the time comes. But do not lie to me again, little witch. You said the mark was a lie to save our lives. But my wolf feels the truth. You didn't just hide me; you claimed me."

"It was a necessity!" Scarlett argued, though her voice lacked conviction.

"A necessity that has consequences," Caleb replied. He turned away, picking up his discarded shirt, but the way his muscles rippled across his back suggested a predator fully aware of its strength. "I went for a walk this morning while you were still dreaming."

Scarlett gasped. "You left the Sanctuary? You could have been seen!"

"I am a King, Scarlett. I know how to move through the shadows of my own city," he said, turning back with a dark, enigmatic smile. "I found a contact. A man who owes the Blackwood line a blood-debt. He confirmed what I suspected. The Thorne family isn't just looking for me to eliminate a rival. They are looking for the 'Lunar Key'—the artifact that can control the entire Northern territory. And they think you know where it is."

Scarlett felt the world tilt. In the original novel, the Lunar Key was the very thing the villainess Scarlett had stolen from Caleb, leading to her eventual execution.

"I don't have it," she whispered, her mind racing.

"Maybe not yet," Caleb said, stepping closer again and placing a hand over her heart. "But Julian thinks you do. Which means you are in more danger than I am. From now on, you do not go anywhere without me. You are the marked mate of the Lycan King. Act like it."

He didn't wait for her to respond. He walked to the door, his hand on the handle, his silhouette framed by the dim hallway light. "Prepare yourself, Scarlett. We are no longer running. We are going to the Blackwood ancestral lands. If your family wants a war, I will give them one they will never forget."

As he left the room to prepare for their departure, Scarlett sank back into her chair. The ninety-day clock was still there, but the rules had changed. She wasn't just a transmigrator trying to survive a dark romance; she was now the center of a supernatural war, tied to a King who was slowly, dangerously, becoming himself again.