The Mating Mark

Chapter 3: The Mating Mark

The moment my skin made contact with Prince James’s tunic, a massive shockwave exploded through my entire body.

It felt as if a bolt of pure lightning had struck my hand and traveled straight into my heart. My mind was suddenly violently dragged into a dark, swirling void. Around me, dark shadows roared like starving beasts, and icy winds tore through my thoughts. In the center of the darkness stood a giant, jet-black wolf with eyes like burning golden fire.

The giant wolf bared its massive white fangs, letting out a roar that shook the very foundation of my soul. It lunged straight at me.

I didn't run. I couldn't run. Instead, I stood my ground, trembling violently, and held out my open palm toward the beast. "Please," I whispered inside the vision. "I don't want to hurt you. I just want to save my brother."

The giant shadow wolf stopped an inch from my face. Its hot, smoky breath washed over my skin. It tilted its massive head, its glowing golden eyes staring deep into the center of my spirit. The terrifying rage in its eyes suddenly vanished, replaced by an intense, overwhelming warmth.

The black wolf lowered its head and gently pressed its wet nose against my palm.

*Found you,* a deep, velvet voice echoed through my mind, loud and clear as a church bell. *My mate.*

Instantly, my mind was snapped back into the physical world. I gasped loudly, stumbling back two steps from the bed, clutching my chest.

A burning heat erupted on the right side of my collarbone. I pulled down the fabric of my cheap cotton shirt and looked down. A glowing golden mark shaped like a crescent moon surrounded by intricate dark vines was slowly burning itself into my skin.

A loud gasp sounded from the doorway. Matron Vanya stood frozen in place, her silver staff slipping from her fingers and clattering loudly against the stone floor. The two guards behind her dropped to their knees, their faces pale with total shock.

"The crescent mark..." Matron Vanya whispered, her voice shaking violently. "His wolf... his wolf didn't just accept her. He claimed her!"

Before I could even wrap my head around what was happening, heavy footsteps hurried down the corridor. An elderly man wearing elaborate golden robes and a heavy iron crown rushed into the room, followed by four high priests. It was King Marcus, James’s father.

The King looked at the glowing golden mark on my collarbone, then looked at my cheap dress and iron-shackled wrists. His dark eyebrows pulled together in a tight, conflicted frown.

"She is an omega," one of the priests hissed softly to the King. "A commoner from the border towns! Sire, we cannot allow a nameless street girl to be named the Luna Princess!"

King Marcus held up a single hand, silencing the priest instantly. He walked over to the bed and looked down at his unconscious son. For the first time in two months, the crackling, deadly alpha pressure in the room had settled into a soft, gentle warmth. James’s breathing was smooth, calm, and steady.

The King turned back to face me. His golden eyes locked onto mine with incredible force. "The laws of the Bloodmoon Kingdom are absolute. The royal wolf has spoken. The beast does not care about lineage, wealth, or noble blood. It chooses who it chooses."

He stepped forward, grabbed the iron shackles around my wrists, and used his raw alpha strength to snap the heavy chain in half as if it were a fragile twig.

"From this moment on," King Marcus declared loudly, his voice echoing through the tower, "Isabella of Silver Creek is the official betrothed of Prince James. She is the Luna Princess of the Bloodmoon Kingdom. Treat her with the absolute respect her title demands."

I stood there in total shock, staring at the snapped chains lying at my feet. Overnight, I had gone from a discarded girl sold by her father to the most powerful female in the entire realm.

Servants instantly swarmed into the room, bowing low before me. They led me out of James’s chamber and brought me to a grand suite on the upper floors of the palace. The room was four times larger than my entire home in Silver Creek. It featured a massive feather bed with silk sheets, a roaring marble fireplace, and tall glass doors that opened onto a private balcony overlooking the snowy mountains.

Two young maidservants immediately drew a hot bath filled with fragrant rose oil, washed my tangled hair, and dressed me in a stunning emerald-green silk gown with long lace sleeves. They swept my long brown hair up into an elegant arrangement held together by silver pins.

When I looked into the tall standing mirror, I could barely recognize myself. The tired, dirt-stained tavern girl was gone. Standing in her place was a royal lady. But beneath the soft silk dress, the crescent mark on my collarbone still throbbed with a gentle, persistent heat.

That night, after the servants bowed and left my chambers, I walked over to the tall glass balcony doors. I opened them slightly, letting the cold mountain breeze cool my burning cheeks.

Down in the dark courtyard, near the palace gate, a hooded figure stood near the shadow of the stone wall. The figure lifted his head slightly, catching the moonlight.

It was Riley.

He looked up at my high balcony, lifting his hand in a subtle, secret signal. My chest tightened with anxiety. He was waiting for me to fulfill my promise. He wanted me to begin spying on the royal court, to steal the vault keys, to betray the very kingdom that had just granted me a crown.

I stepped back into the warmth of my room and pulled the heavy velvet curtains shut. I was trapped in a golden cage, surrounded by powerful enemies who hated me for my low blood, forced to play a dangerous game between a treasonous ex-boyfriend and a comatose prince who had marked me as his true mate.