Marked By Two

Aria's pov​The silence of the forest was gone, replaced by the heavy, vibrating power of the two men standing before me.​Noah, the one holding me, didn't move. His grip on my waist was like iron, grounding me even as my knees threatened to give way. His scent was everywhere now. It wasn't the earthy smell of my pack; it was rain on hot asphalt and expensive cedarwood. It smelled like power. It smelled like money.​"Let me go," I whispered, my voice trembling.​I tried to squirm, but it was like trying to move a mountain. Noah didn't even flinch. His winter-storm eyes remained fixed on mine, searching my face with an intensity that made my skin prickle.​"You're shaking, little Omega," the other one said.​I looked over Noah's shoulder. Cassian was leaning against a charred tree trunk, looking at the destruction of my home as if it were a bored piece of art. He was a mirror image of Noah, but while Noah was a silent storm, Cassian was a forest fire. He looked messy, dangerous, and

Aria's povI was barely awake when the door to my suite was thrown open. I expected a tray of food or worse, one of the brothers. Instead, I got a woman with eyes like flint and hands that felt like ice. She didn't speak much, she just gestured to a dress, a gown of deep, blood-red velvet that looked like a wound against the white fabric.​"Wear it," she commanded. "The Alphas are waiting."​"You're breathing too fast," the maid murmured, her voice like dry leaves.​I didn't answer because I couldn't. The red velvet gown was a masterpiece of cruelty. It was heavy, the weight of it pulling at my shoulders, while the corset was laced so tight it felt like Noah’s iron grip made permanent. ​The neckline was the worst part. It plunged low, specifically designed to frame the golden crescent on my chest. ​I looked in the mirror and I couldn't recognize myself. I didn't see Aria from the forest. I saw a creature of blood and shadow.​"They are waiting, little wolf," a voice rumbled from

​Cassian’s POV​The silence in the medical wing was louder than the screams at the gala forty-eight hours ago.​I paced the length of the room, my boots clicking loudly against the polished marble. Every instinct in my body was screaming to shift, to tear through the walls, but there was nothing to fight. There was only the rhythmic beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor connected to Aria.​She looked fragile. Her skin was pale and dull, especially the faint outline of where her golden mark used to be. Now, it was just bruised, sensitive-looking skin.​"Stop pacing, Cassian," Noah said from the corner. He sat in a high-backed leather chair, his shirt buttoned to the chin to hide the purple, thumb-shaped bruises Aria had left on his throat. He looked like a king who had lost his crown. "You’re going to wear a hole in the floor."​"She hasn't moved in two days, Noah. The world is burning outside, and she’s just… sleeping."​"She’s not sleeping," a calm voice interrupted.​Dr. Aris stepped i

​I blinked, my eyes struggling to focus in the oppressive darkness of the alley. My head throbbed, a dull ache pulsing behind my temples like a trapped bird beating against a cage. ​I tried to push myself up, but my hands skidded on something slick. I looked down, and my breath hitched in my throat. My clothes were shredded, stained dark with dried, crusty blood.​The gala. The music. The laughter. The way Noah and Cassian had looked at me, like I was a prize they’d finally captured. I remembered the heat rising in my blood, the golden agony of the mark on my neck, and then… nothing.​Suddenly, a high-pitched, piercing ringing shattered inside my skull. I gasped, clutching my ears, but the sound only grew louder, a thousand layered whispers hidden beneath the screeching frequency.​"No," I hissed, my voice rasping and foreign to my own ears.​I stumbled to my feet, my legs feeling like lead. I had to get away. I felt the cold now, a damp, biting chill that seeped into my marrow. Th

​Maeve’s POV​I reached up, my fingers ghosting over the glowing violet mark at the base of my throat. It pulsed with a cold heat, a constant reminder of the power beneath my skin.​Aria.​The name alone tasted like ash in my mouth, bitter, dry, and suffocating.​A maid, her head bowed in submission, stood behind me, holding the bodice of my gown. She fumbled with the clasp of a diamond-encrusted choker, her fingers shaking so violently that the metal rattled against my collarbone. I caught her gaze in the mirror, and she instantly looked away, her eyes wide with terror.​Good. She knew who the queen of this fortress was, and she knew the price of a mistake.​I ignored her presence entirely, closing my eyes to shut out the sterile, white light of the dressing room. Immediately, the darkness took over and I was back in the forest. I could smell the smoke, the thick, oily, cloying scent of burning fur, blood and flesh. I remembered the screaming, the way the sky had turned a bruised, u