The Lycan's Marked

ELARA

They say a wolf without a howl is just prey in waiting.

I used to think they were just being cruel. Now I know they were right.

I was born into Nightclaw Pack, but I’ve never belonged here. Not really. They called me cursed, weak, useless… and worse things when no one was listening. Some days, I wished I was truly invisible. Other days, I wished I didn’t exist at all.

This morning wasn’t different. I walked across the icy path with a heavy basket of laundry in my arms. My hands stung from the cold and a fresh cut burned across my palm from yesterday’s punishment.

They said I was too slow. That I was too pretty for someone without a wolf. That I reminded them of betrayal.

“Elara the cursed!” someone sang from the side. Laughter followed. I didn’t turn. I never did. Looking back only gave them more reason to hit me.

My arms trembled as I tried to keep the basket from falling. My body hurt, but I couldn’t stop. If I slowed down, I’d get whipped again.

A splash of icy water hit my back.

I froze.

“Oops,” one of the girls smirked. “Thought dirt needed cleaning.”

They laughed again.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. But I did neither.

I kept walking.

“Enough,” a calm voice cut through the cruelty. Kaela. The only person in this pack who didn’t look at me like I was trash.

She stepped forward, her presence alone enough to make the other girls back off.

“Go inside,” Kaela said firmly.

The girls rolled their eyes but obeyed. No one wanted to mess with Kaela. Her father was an advisor on the wolf council. Important. Respected. That gave her power.

She turned to me, her expression softening. “You’re bleeding again.”

“I’m fine,” I whispered, even though I wasn’t.

“Come,” she said. “Let me help you.”

---

Kaela’s room was warm and smelled like dried herbs and ink. She made me sit on her bed and cleaned the wound on my hand with a wet cloth.

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” I said. “Someone might see.”

“I don’t care,” she replied.

But I did. I cared every second of every day. Fear followed me like a shadow I couldn’t outrun.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Kaela said gently.

“I’m always quiet.”

“I mean more than usual.”

I looked at her, wondering if I should speak. But something in her eyes made me trust her.

“I had a dream,” I said slowly. “There was a white wolf standing in the middle of fire. It looked at me… like it knew me.”

Kaela froze. “A white wolf?”

I nodded. “It said, ‘Free me.’ Then I woke up.”

She didn’t speak for a long moment.

“I need to tell you something,” she finally said, voice tight. “I overheard the elders today. They’re planning to banish you.”

The air left my lungs.

“What?” I whispered.

“Tonight. They’re going to wait until you’re asleep, then drag you out of the territory.”

“No. No, they can’t. I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“They don’t care. They’re scared of you. Of what you might become.”

“I don’t even have a wolf—”

“Exactly. That’s what scares them.” She reached into a pouch and pulled out a small, glowing stone. “This will mask your scent for a few hours. Take it. Run east. There’s a small village near the Bloodmoon border. They’re not kind, but they don’t kill rogues.”

Tears filled my eyes. “Why are you helping me?”

Kaela smiled sadly. “Because you’re my friend. And I won’t let them destroy you.”

Friend. That word felt like a warm blanket around my frozen heart.

I clutched the stone tightly. “Thank you.”

---

That night, I didn’t sleep.

Every creak in the walls made my heart race. I packed a small bag—just a change of clothes, some bread, and the necklace my mother gave me. A silver moon charm with an old symbol on the back.

I stared at it now, whispering a silent prayer.

"Moon Goddess… if you’re real, please let me live."

When the sky turned black and the wind howled outside, I crept from the servant quarters. My breath fogged in the cold. The stone in my palm pulsed softly.

I was almost at the gate when a voice stopped me.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

My blood froze.

I turned slowly.

Elder Gregor stood in the shadows with two others. Their eyes stared down at me in anger.

“You think we wouldn’t notice?” Gregor snarled.

“Please,” I begged. “Just let me go.”

“You were born a stain,” one of them spat. “Your parents were traitors. You should’ve died with them.”

Strong hands grabbed me. I kicked. Screamed. Bit someone’s arm.

It didn’t matter.

By morning, they tied me to a post in the middle of the pack grounds.

Everyone watched.

No one helped.

“The cursed child of traitors,” Gregor called out. “Unwanted by the Goddess. Unclaimed by a wolf. Today, we rid ourselves of her poison.”

My chest heaved.

I didn’t want to die.

I didn’t want to die.

When the ropes came off, I ran. I didn’t look back. I just ran.

I ignored all the shouts, threats and spiteful words behind me and ran.

The forest swallowed me whole.

---

Days blurred together. Hunger gnawed at my belly. My feet bled. I drank from rivers, slept in trees, and whispered my mother’s name when I was too scared to breathe.

Then, finally, I saw it—a village.

I staggered down the dirt road, filthy and shaking. A woman sweeping outside a bakery looked up and frowned.

“Please,” I rasped. “Do you have food?”

She looked me over. “You a rogue?”

I nodded.

“Go around back. Tell the innkeeper Mira sent you.”

His name was Jorin. He didn’t ask questions. He gave me soup, then let me sleep in the storage shed behind the inn.

For the first time in years, I felt… safe.

I should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

---

It was the third day. I stepped outside with a mop in my hands when I felt it—like the air shifted.

A strange pull gripped my chest. My breath hitched.

And then I saw him.

He was tall. Broad-shouldered. Black hair, silver eyes. Dressed in all black.

Power radiated off him like heat.

His eyes locked with mine.

And my world stopped.

"Mate."

My knees almost gave out.

He walked toward me slowly, like a predator sizing up its prey.

“You,” he said coldly. “You’re my mate?”

I nodded, heart pounding.

He sneered. “The Moon Goddess has a sick sense of humor.”

My mouth o

pened, but no words came out.

He looked me up and down. “You’re weak.”

I felt the crack in my chest, sharp and sudden.

“You’re not what I wanted,” he said, turning away. “And I don’t want you.”