The mark on someone else's neck

Phoebe's POV 

The heavy iron lock clicked shut from the outside. The sound rang through the dark bedroom like a gunshot, sharp and final.

"Kendrix!" I shouted, rushing forward and slamming my flat palms against the thick oak wood. "Kendrix, open this door!"

"By the Alpha's order, ma'am," a guard’s heavy voice called out from the hallway. "You are to stay inside until the border 

investigation is settled. For your own safety."

"I need food! I need water!" My voice cracked against the silent walls. "You can't lock me in here!"

No one answered. The heavy boots of the guard shifted once on the stone floor, then went still.

I backed away from the door, my chest heaving, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. The room was cold. The fireplace had died down to grey ashes hours ago, and the chill of the mountain evening was creeping through the tall glass windows.

Hours passed in suffocating silence. The shadows on the floor stretched long and dark, swallowing the room whole. My stomach twisted with a deep, hollow ache that made my head spin. I wasn't just hungry for myself anymore. Inside me, a tiny life needed nourishment, needed water, needed safety. I walked to the washbasin in the corner, but the pitcher was bone dry. Not a single drop left.

My knees gave out, and I sank down onto the cold rug beside the bed. Five years I had given to this pack. Five years of smiles, of taking the elders' insults, of trying so hard to belong to a world that saw me as nothing because I didn't have a wolf inside me. When Kendrix married me, he had promised that his strength would be my shield. Now, his strength was the cage keeping me trapped in the dark.

Sometime long after midnight, the lock turned.

The heavy door creaked open, letting in a thin slice of light from the corridor. I pulled myself up from the floor, my legs shaking, my tongue thick and dry in my mouth.

Victoria stood in the doorway. She was holding a small silver tray with a single glass of water, but she didn't step inside immediately. She wore a deep green silk robe, her golden hair resting over her shoulder, completely at ease in the quiet castle.

"Phoebe," she said, her voice dripping with soft, careful sympathy. "Oh, you poor thing. They left you in the dark?"

"Get out," I rasped, my throat raw.

"I brought you water," she said gently, stepping inside and closing the door behind her, though I heard the guard latch it from the outside again. She set the tray down on the small side table. "Kendrix is down in the council chambers with my father and Garrick. They’ve been fighting for hours about that rogue letter. He doesn't even know the servants forgot your dinner."

I reached for the glass, my hands shaking so badly the water sloshed over the rim. I took a fast, desperate sip, the cool liquid burning my dry throat.

Victoria watched me, her bright blue eyes tracking every movement. "He’s so stressed, Phoebe. The border is falling apart, the elders are demanding answers, and now he has to worry about his heir."

"It's not his heir," I whispered, setting the glass down.

Victoria tilted her head, a small, sad expression touching her lips. "Is that what you're telling yourself? That he didn't mean it? That it was just a mistake?"

"He doesn't love you," I said, leaning against the bedpost to keep my balance. "He loves me."

Victoria sighed, a soft, pitying sound. "Love is a human word, Phoebe. We are wolves. Blood calls to blood. Duty binds an Alpha to his pack, no matter what promises he made to a wolf-less girl five years ago."

"He won't replace me," I spat, holding onto the last scrap of hope I had left.

"He already has," Victoria said softly.

She reached up with her right hand and gently pulled down the collar of her silk robe. The green fabric slipped off her left shoulder, exposing the smooth pale skin of her neck and shoulder blade.

There, pressed deep into her skin, was a fresh, dark mark. It was shaped like the Alpha's jagged crest, bruised and dark red at the edges, clearly stamped into her flesh.

My breath caught in my chest. The world went completely black at the edges.

A wolf mark. The protective claim an Alpha gives to his true mate, or the woman carrying his blood line to keep her safe from other wolves during pregnancy. It was a claim that could never be erased. It meant she belonged to his pack authority in a way an Omega like me could never touch.

"He gave it to me the night we found out about the baby," Victoria whispered, pulling her robe back up, covering the raw mark. "To protect the child's spirit, he said. But a mark is a mark, Phoebe. He put his teeth into my skin. He claimed me."

I stared at her, unable to speak, unable to breathe.

It was over. Everything was over. Kendrix hadn't just made a mistake on a drunk night at the border. He had given her his mark. He had bound her to him under the old laws of the pack—laws that put her above me forever. If I stayed here, my child would grow up in the shadows, hidden away, called a bastard by the elders, while Victoria's child sat on the throne. My baby would be at the mercy of a woman who wanted me erased.

It wasn't just painful to stay anymore. It was dangerous.

"I'll leave you to rest," Victoria said, her voice sweet and innocent again as she walked back toward the door. She knocked twice on the wood, and the guard unlocked it from the outside, letting her out before locking it once more.

Silence descended back onto the cold room.

I stood alone in the dark. I looked at the glass of water on the table, then down at my own reflection in the dark glass of the window. I looked small, frail, and pale—but deep inside my stomach, a tiny life was counting on me. I didn't have a wolf. I didn't have pack status. I didn't have an Alpha to protect me.

So I had to protect us myself.

I walked quietly to the wardrobe. I pulled out a heavy wool cloak, wrapping it tightly around my shoulders, and slipped my hand into my dress pocket, feeling the small ribbon-wrapped box one last time. I didn't pack clothes. I didn't grab jewels. I took nothing that belonged to the Edison Pack.

I stepped softly across the room, past the cold fireplace, stopping right in front of the heavy oak door. Outside, the guard shifted his feet, blowing into his cold hands.

I lifted my shaking right hand. My fingers brushed against the icy brass of the door handle, slowly wrapping around it.