Chapter 4: Alpha's Mark

The black car stopped in front of the apartment building in less than three minutes.

The door opened, and two tall men in dark suits stepped out. Their sharp eyes swept rapidly across the surroundings. Every movement was precise, efficient—like a machine programmed for protection.

“Soren?” Maisa called softly, her voice trembling.

The man nearest to her nodded. “Ms Robert, we need to leave immediately. The hostile party has changed their surveillance position.”

“Who are they?” Brian blurted out at last, unable to remain silent any longer. “Who are you people? What kind of game are you playing?”

Soren gave Brian a single glance. It was so cold that Brian instinctively stepped back half a pace.

“You don’t need to know,” Soren said. “And it would be best if you never did.”

Maisa stepped into the car. Before the door closed, she turned back to look at Brian one last time. There was no anger left. No pain. Only an absolute distance.

The door slammed shut.

The car sped away into the torrential rain, quickly dissolving into the flow of traffic—as though it had never existed at all.

Inside the vehicle, the silence was suffocating.

Maisa sat in the middle of the back seat, both hands resting on her abdomen. Her heartbeat thundered so loudly that her ears rang. She could feel it clearly—something inside her body was changing. A strange, powerful presence, as though it were awakening.

“Where are we going?” she asked quietly.

“A Level One secure zone,” Soren replied. “Under the direct control of Alpha Airden.”

“And the people watching me… who are they?”

Soren was silent for a few seconds before answering. “Those who cannot accept that a child carrying Alpha blood is being born outside the pack. To them, the child in your womb is a threat.”

“A threat to what?”

“Order.”

Maisa swallowed hard. “And what about me?”

“You are the key,” Soren said. “And also the weakest target.”

A chill ran down her spine.

The car entered a suburban area surrounded by dense pine forest. Massive black iron gates slowly opened after the biometric system finished scanning the licence plate and genetic signal.

Beyond them stood a grey stone estate—ancient yet modern, like a fortress built to withstand the entire world.

The moment Maisa stepped out of the car, she felt an invisible pressure crash down upon her.

The enormous doors closed behind her with a heavy thud.

There was no rain. No city noise. Only silence.

She didn’t need to search to know he was here.

Alpha Airden stood at the top of the stone steps, clad in a long black coat. Warm yellow light cast sharp angles across his cold, sculpted face.

His gaze locked onto her the instant she appeared.

Maisa walked slowly into the great hall.

The ceiling soared overhead, adorned with strange lunar architecture and symbols she couldn’t understand—yet her body reacted instinctively, as though it recognised them.

“Don’t touch anything,” Airden said from behind her.

“Those markings aren’t meant for humans.”

Maisa stopped short. “Then why am I here?”

“Because you are no longer entirely human.”

The flicker of panic on Maisa’s face didn’t escape him. Airden stepped in front of her, firelight reflected in his silver-grey eyes—eyes that did not belong to any human man.

“The child inside you,” he said slowly, “carries pure Alpha blood. A lineage born under the full moon, without the pack’s mating rites.”

“What does that mean?” Maisa asked, her voice hoarse.

“It means…” Airden lowered himself until his eyes locked onto hers, “…you will become the Luna of the Dark Moonlight pack. And the child will be the next Alpha.”

Maisa woke in the middle of the night, gasping for breath.

The air had grown heavy, tinged with the faint metallic scent of blood and danger. Moonlight poured through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the cold stone floor.

She pushed herself upright.

Her heart was racing. Far too fast.

Not from fear.

But because her body was responding to the Moon.

“No…” Maisa whispered, pressing a hand to her abdomen.

The baby moved.

Not a kick—but a strong, deliberate vibration, as though it were answering the moonlight.

The door opened without a sound.

Airden stood there.

He wasn’t wearing his coat—only a black shirt, the collar undone. Moonlight traced the markings along his collarbone—faint symbols etched into his skin, the mark of an Alpha.

“You can feel it now,” he said quietly.

Maisa stared at him, her throat dry. “What’s happening to me?”

“Not to you,” Airden replied. “To the child.”

“Tonight is the full moon,” he continued. “And the child in your womb… is awakening.”

Maisa shook her head in panic. “I’m human.”

“You’re carrying an Alpha.”

The words fell like a sentence.

Airden stopped before her and lowered himself until their eyes were level.

“In our laws,” he said, “an unprotected Alpha child emits a signal during its first full moon.”

“What kind of signal?”

“A call to the pack.”

Maisa went pale. “Who will come?”

Airden didn’t answer at once.

Then he said, “Those who will kill the child before it can be born.”

A sudden pain clenched Maisa’s abdomen.

She cried out, folding over as heat flooded her body, as though something were trying to tear free from her chest.

Airden caught her immediately.

“Listen to me,” he said urgently. “You must stay calm. The more you panic, the stronger the signal becomes.”

“You talk as if I have no control over myself!” Maisa sobbed.

Airden’s jaw tightened.

“You don’t,” he said flatly. “From the moment you conceived my child, you lost that control.”

Maisa looked up at him, tears streaming. “Then what am I?”

Airden was silent.

Then, slowly—each word heavy as stone—he said:

“You are a prospective Luna.”

The air froze.

“No,” Maisa whispered. “I don’t belong to your pack.”

“The Moon has chosen,” Airden replied. “Not me.”

The pain eased, replaced by something else—connection.

Maisa realised her heartbeat had synchronised with his.

“What are you doing to me?” she asked softly.

“Protecting you,” Airden said. “But to do that, I need to mark you.”

“Mark… what does that mean?”

“In wolf law,” Airden said quietly, “an Alpha marks only two kinds of people.”

He leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear.

“Mate. And Luna.”

Maisa trembled. “And if I refuse?”

Airden met her gaze.

“You won’t survive the night.”

No threat. No embellishment. Only truth.

Outside, a howl echoed—distant but clear.

Then another.

A third.

“They’re coming,” Maisa whispered, clutching his shirt.

“Yes,” he replied. “And I don’t have much time.”

He tilted his head, exposing his neck—where fangs could strike.

“Give me the right to protect you,” Airden said, his voice low and rough.

“Let me mark you… and no pack on this continent will dare touch you.”

Maisa closed her eyes.

There was no way back.

“Do it,” she whispered. “Save my child.”

The moment the Alpha’s fangs pierced her skin—the full moon blazed.

A thunderous roar tore from Airden’s throat.

The Alpha mark was carved into blood.

Maisa’s blood was still warm on Airden’s lips when he stepped back.

The mark on her neck glowed faintly for a few seconds, then sank into her flesh—vanishing as though it had never existed.

But Airden knew.

The Moon had acknowledged it.

Silence reclaimed the room.

Maisa lay motionless in his arms, her breathing gradually steadying. The pain was gone, replaced by something unfamiliar—safety… forced, but real.

“Is it over?” she whispered.

Airden’s hand tightened for a fraction of a second.

“Yes,” he said. “You’re protected now.”

He said nothing more.

Because a law had just been broken—and the price would never be simple.

Airden left the room once Maisa had fallen asleep.

The instant the door closed, his expression changed completely.

Soren was waiting in the corridor, his face taut. The moment he met Airden’s Alpha gaze, he dropped to one knee—a Beta’s instinctive response to absolute authority.

“What have you done?” Soren asked quietly.

Airden didn’t answer at once.

He raised a hand to his neck.

Beneath the skin, a faint black fracture was spreading—like stone split by lightning.

The first sign.

“My Alpha…” Soren went rigid. “You know that’s impossible…”

“I know,” Airden said.

“An Alpha must never mark a human,” Soren said urgently. “Otherwise—”

“Otherwise,” Airden cut in coldly,

“The Moon will punish the Alpha.”

Soren swallowed. “Not just you—but the child, and Maisa…”

Airden turned to look at Maisa’s door.

“That’s why she can never know.”

The mark was incomplete, but it would shield Maisa from other Alphas.

Soren’s voice trembled. “You’re wagering everything.”

Airden turned back, his silver-grey eyes utterly devoid of hesitation.

“I’ve wagered my life,” he said.

“In exchange for their safety.”

The next morning, Maisa woke to pale sunlight filtering through the windows.

She instinctively touched her neck.

No pain.

No mark.

Like a dream.

Only a strange sensation remained—like something was guarding her from afar.

Airden stood by the window.

In daylight, he looked like an ordinary man. But when Maisa met his eyes, she sensed a profound exhaustion beneath the surface.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“I am,” Airden replied at once.

Maisa hesitated. “Last night… what did you do to me?”

Airden turned.

He took her hand and placed it over his chest—steady, powerful heartbeats beneath her palm.

“Nothing except protection,” he said. “You and the child are safe.”

Maisa searched his face for anything out of place.

But Airden had hidden it too well.

She didn’t know that with every beat of his heart—the Moon was drawing closer.

The ring of a mobile phone cut through the moment, breaking the unspoken tension between them.

 

Airden lifted the phone.

 

“Alpha Airden! Something’s happened,” Soren’s voice came through, edged with panic. “It’s Pack Northmoor. Alpha Rowan is outside.”

 

“Why would he come here?” Suspicion flickered across Airden’s face.

 

“My Alpha, if another pack’s Alpha becomes aware of this, you’ll be in danger.”

 

“I know.” Airden’s tone was calm. “Let him in. I’ll go out and meet him.”

 

He turned to Maisa, meeting her gaze head-on. She was watching him closely, reading the change in his expression.

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

“Stay here,” he said quietly. “No matter what happens, do not come outside. I’ll be back shortly.”

 

The trees shuddered as Alpha Rowan appeared—a tall man with dark hair, broad shoulders, and golden eyes sharp as blades.

 

Soren stepped back instinctively, his voice rough.

“Alpha Rowan…”

 

Rowan curled his lips into a smile.

 

“No need for introductions,” he said. “Your scent says it all, Alpha Airden.”

 

Airden stepped forward, positioning himself squarely in front of the gate.

 

“Leave,” he said coldly. “Before you cross a line you won’t be able to step back from.”

 

Rowan inhaled slowly.

 

Then his expression changed.

 

The smile vanished.

 

“Interesting,” Rowan said at last. “The scent of a mate bond… but incomplete. Not a wolf Luna. Not a lawful mate.”

 

He lifted his head, golden eyes flashing.

 

“It’s the scent of a human.”

 

The air froze.

 

Soren’s face drained of colour. A few Betas behind him growled instinctively.

 

Rowan laughed, open delight ringing in his voice.

“The Alpha of Dark Moonlight marked a human as his mate? Airden… you’ve lost your mind.”

 

Airden didn’t deny it.

But he hadn’t expected Rowan to catch the scent so quickly.

 

If anything, his eyes darkened further.

 

Rowan continued, advancing one slow step at a time.

“An unlawful mate bond sends out a signal. Sooner or later, the Council will know.”

 

“And you have no authority here,” Airden replied, his voice low, thunderous beneath the calm.

 

Rowan tilted his head, gaze sliding past Airden—deep into the estate beyond.

 

“The human is here,” he said with certainty. “I can smell her.”

 

A low growl rumbled from Airden’s throat.

 

“Get out. Now.”

 

Rowan laughed again.

“You guard her like a Luna. But you know exactly what happens when the Moon discovers a false one.”

 

He paused, his voice turning glacial.

 

“Either you hand her over… or I take this scent straight to the Blood Moon Council.”

Soren blurted out, “Alpha Rowan—”

“Silence,” Airden commanded.

He stepped forward to face Rowan, the two Alphas standing no more than an arm’s length apart. The air vibrated as their power collided.

“If you open your mouth,” Airden said, his voice so low it sent a chill through the ground, “I will tear you apart right here, on my territory.”

Rowan narrowed his eyes, then gave a slow nod. Alpha Airden was a formidable force—any pack that drew his attention had to tread with extreme caution. Once he set his sights on something, reclaiming it was nearly impossible.

“So you’ve made your choice,” Rowan said. “That human… means more to you than your pack.”

Airden did not answer.

Rowan stepped back, and before he left, he cast one last look—openly provocative.

The decision was made before dawn.

There was no pack council.

No ritual.

Only a brief command from the Alpha.

“Prepare the car,” Airden said. “We’re returning to the city.”

Soren went rigid. “My Alpha… the city has no pack wards. No territory. No protection—”

“That is precisely why,” Airden replied coldly. “They won’t expect it. And it will be the safest place for her.”

He didn’t say the rest aloud.

An unlawful mate bond’s scent would weaken among humans.

It wouldn’t vanish—but it would be distorted.

For now, it was the only viable option.

“But wasn’t the reason we brought her here to ensure that Alpha blood wouldn’t be born outside the pack?” Soren pressed, his unease deepening.

From inside, Maisa overheard that they were returning to the city. Her eyes lit up at once as she hurried towards Airden.

“We’re going back to the city?” she said, relief brightening her voice. “That’s wonderful.”