Chapter 2 The Mark

Aria woke to the sound of her name.

It was not her mother’s voice. Not Mara’s.

It was deeper—like a whisper inside her head.

Her eyes flew open. Morning light spilled through the small window of her room. The world felt quiet, too quiet, as if the forest itself was holding its breath. Her heart beat fast, her skin warm and tingling.

She sat up slowly. The moment she did, a sharp sting shot through her left wrist. She hissed and pulled back the sleeve of her nightdress.

There it was.

A mark she had never seen before.

Dark, thin lines curling over her skin like black fire. It looked alive, faintly glowing red beneath the morning light.

Aria’s breath hitched. She rubbed at it, hoping it was just a dream. The mark did not fade. It pulsed instead, beating with the same rhythm as her heart.

Panic rose in her chest. She swung her legs off the bed and ran to the small mirror above the dresser. Her face was pale. Her eyes—usually warm brown—looked brighter, almost golden.

“What’s happening to me?” she whispered.

A sudden knock at the door made her jump.

“Aria?” It was Mara. “Open up. Everyone’s looking for you. You disappeared last night!”

Her throat tightened. She couldn’t tell Mara what she saw. She didn’t even know how to explain it to herself. She quickly pulled her sleeve down, covering the mark, and opened the door.

Mara burst in, her face full of worry. “Where did you go? Your mom was crying. The whole village thought something took you into the woods!”

Aria swallowed hard. “I… I went out. I don’t know why. I just… needed air.”

“Air?” Mara crossed her arms. “Under the blood moon? Are you crazy?”

Aria tried to smile, but her hands were still shaking. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Mara said softly, touching her arm. “You look pale. And your eyes… Aria, something’s wrong.”

Before Aria could answer, the pain in her wrist returned—hotter, sharper. She gasped and stumbled. Mara grabbed her shoulders. “Aria? Hey, talk to me!”

But Aria barely heard her.

A voice was whispering again, sliding through her head like cold smoke.

“Little flame… you cannot run from what’s written in your blood.”

Her breath caught. She looked toward the forest through the window. Even in daylight, it felt alive. Watching. Waiting.

“Aria, what’s wrong?” Mara asked again, shaking her lightly.

Aria forced herself to breathe. “I just… need some water.” She hurried out before Mara could stop her.

Outside, the village was waking up. Children played near the well, and women set baskets of bread to cool on stone ledges. Everything looked normal. But to Aria, the air felt heavy. The forest at the edge of Ravenshade looked darker than it should.

As she filled a cup with water, she caught a glimpse of something in the reflection. A shadow standing at the tree line. Tall. Still.

Lucian.

The stranger from last night. The vampire king.

He was watching her. Not moving. Not blinking. Just standing in the red glow that seemed to linger where the moon had shone.

Her heart slammed against her chest. She dropped the cup. It shattered on the stones.

No one else seemed to notice him. Just her.

Lucian tilted his head slightly, as if amused. Then his voice slid into her mind again, smooth and cold.

“The mark is the bond. It has chosen you, Aria. You can’t undo it.”

She shook her head, whispering, “No. No, I didn’t choose this.”

“You don’t have to,” he answered softly. “Fate already did.”

Her breath quickened. She wanted to scream for help, but deep inside, she knew no one would believe her.

And then—just like smoke—he was gone.

Only the forest remained, quiet and watching.

She clutched her wrist tightly. The mark burned beneath her palm.

Aria didn’t know it yet, but the mark was more than just a symbol. It was a bond. A curse. And it had already begun to change her.

Aria wrapped her shawl tightly around her shoulders, even though the sun was already warm. Her wrist still throbbed beneath the fabric, each pulse like a soft drum, echoing Lucian’s voice inside her head. It wasn’t just a mark. She could feel it—alive, breathing with her. A cold wind swept through the village square, though no one else seemed to notice it.

She turned slowly, searching the tree line again, but Lucian was gone. Still, she could feel him. Not like a person standing nearby, but like a shadow stretched too long, reaching for her.

“Aria!” Her father’s voice carried from across the square. He waved, smiling as if everything was fine. But to her, the world had already tilted. Nothing felt safe anymore.

Mara ran up beside her again. “You’re shaking,” she whispered. “Tell me what happened in those woods.”

Aria opened her mouth but no words came. How could she explain the red eyes, the way the forest seemed to breathe, the way her blood itself no longer felt like her own?

Mara touched her wrist gently, and Aria flinched.

Mara pulled her hand back, frowning. “Something is wrong with you.”

Aria swallowed hard. “I… I just need time.”

She backed away before Mara could follow, slipping down the narrow path behind the baker’s shop, out of sight. The village sounds faded as she pressed her back against the stone wall and finally let the tears fall.

The mark burned hotter now, spreading its warmth up her arm like fire licking at dry wood. She gasped, clutching at it, but it only glowed brighter beneath her sleeve.

Then, faint but clear, she heard Lucian’s voice again, curling through the air like smoke.

“You can fight it all you want, little flame… but the bond has already begun. You are mine now.”

Aria pressed her hand over her mouth to stop the scream building in her throat. She knew, in the deepest part of her, that nothing would ever be the same again.