Marked

Reyna gripped her clenched hands as she gazed through the window. This evening was the start of her destruction. If she went, she would face embarrassment. If she stayed, she would be ignored.

The entire pack would be going to welcome the Highlanders. Helen Stone, one of Ryan’s potential mates, would be there. Reyna knew what would happen if she attended: Helen had orchestrated her humiliation last time, ensuring she was disgraced before the entire pack.

But this time was different.

Since everyone was preoccupied, Reyna decided to visit the Oracle. Before a werewolf awakened, they underwent the marking ceremony. Traditionally, family members guided the young wolf through it, ensuring a stable connection to their lineage and the pack.

But Reyna did not trust her family. Not after everything she remembered. She would do this alone.

Reyna walked into the western forest; her senses sharpened by the quiet. Too quiet. The eerie silence pressed around her; the air thick with something unnatural. The path she followed twisted strangely, as if the woods themselves were shifting.

She spotted a faint glow in the distance and quickened her pace. Soon, she entered a clearing where a crooked old shack stood under the cover of looming trees. The sky above was impossibly dark, as if the sun had never existed.

A chilling wind slithered through the air as Reyna approached the shack’s door. She hesitated. The moment she reached out, a voice, ancient and knowing, echoed from within.

“Come in, child.”

Taking a deep breath, Reyna pushed the door open and stepped inside. The air carried the scent of burning herbs. In front of the crackling fireplace sat an old woman, her hunched figure swathed in layers of dark fabric. She poked at the flames with a wooden staff, never turning to face Reyna.

“Sit,” the old woman said.

Reyna glanced around. There were no chairs.

“I’m fine standing,” she replied. “I need to undergo the marking.”

A sharp laugh escaped the woman’s lips. “Alone? Do you know why wolves do not mark themselves without family?”

“I do,” Reyna said, standing firm. “They say it anchors the wolf. Strengthens the bond to the pack. But I don’t need them.”

Silence stretched between them before the woman let out a sigh. “Foolish child. And yet… the returned do not follow the same rules.”

Reyna stiffened. “What did you call me?”

The old woman finally turned; her eyes milky white. “You have burned through one life already. Do not waste another.”

Reyna’s breath hitched. “The Moon Goddess… she,”

“The Goddess does not grant second chances lightly.” The woman’s voice was layered, as if a thousand echoes whispered beneath it. “Your death has altered fate. The Child of the Moon was lost in the wake of your passing.”

The words sent a shiver down Reyna’s spine. “Who is the Child of the Moon?” she demanded, but the old woman only shook her head.

“You will find the answer in time.”

“Your returned comes with wisdom to save the child of the moon. You will be his salvation,” the old woman continued without stopping.

“Stop speaking in riddles! What do you mean? What child of the moon?” Reyna asked. She did not realize it was getting hard for her to talk. Her throat burned, but she was still focused on the old woman’s voice.

“Every few centuries, the child of the moon is born. This time, without you the child of the moon was lost to the otherworld,” the old lady explained.

Before Reyna could press further, the old woman gestured to the fire. “Come.”

Despite the heat, the moment Reyna stepped forward, her skin chilled. The flames flickered unnaturally, rising higher as she extended her hand. The moment her fingers hovered above them, a searing pain shot through her palm.

She gasped, barely able to pull away. When she looked down, a symbol had burned itself into her skin, dark, swirling, alive. The pain was unbearable. Her vision blurred, the world spinning around her. The moment she collapsed; darkness swallowed her whole.

When she woke up, the old woman was gone and she was in a strange room. She looked around the room.

“Where am I?” she asked herself.

“You are inside me, child,” the same old lady’s voice answered. The voice came from all over, making Reyna look around in panic.

She was really inside something.

“How do I get out?” Reyna asked in a trembling voice. Her hands were shaking at this point.

“You are a smart returned child. Your instincts are sharper than alphas. Many come to get their mark and walk inside me all the time without realizing where they are,” the old voice seemed to praise Reyna, but she couldn’t calm down.

What did her words mean? How could alphas not know where they are?

“How do I get out?” Reyna asked again, this time much more frantic.

“I would not harm you, child. You carry great destiny. Breath child,” the voice said.

Reyna did not feel better hearing this.

“Have I been marked?” she asked. That was why she came. As long as she had been, she would leave quickly.

She no longer cared about any truth of her rebirth. She did not want to know anything. All Reyna wanted was to leave this place. She wanted to go home.

She realized she could not breathe.

“Then, Let me out!” Reyna ordered. She took out her claws.

“The child of the moon has come for you,” the voice said.

The moment she opened her mouth, water flooded in, filling her lungs. She mauled at the murkiness, her chest consuming, her body shouting for air. Then — light. A sharp pull yanked Reyna out of the abyss. Cold air slammed into her lungs, and she coughed violently. When her vision cleared, she found herself on the muddy bank of a stream.

Water dripped from her skin, her breath heaving. She blinked, trying to understand, how had she ended up here?

Above her, a figure loomed, silhouetted by the moonlight.