Page 113 of Marked

Marcus’ laugh rumbled through his chest. “Rest, little mate. All your questions will be answered soon.”

Mate. The word should have scared me. Instead, it felt right in a way nothing else had tonight.

The Stone Manor emerged from the darkness like something from a fairy tale, windows blazing with warm light. Maria burst through the front doors before we reached them, Jorge and Miguel right behind her.

“Dios mío!” Maria cried, her hands flying to her mouth.

Anna appeared in the doorway, her eyes widening at the sight of three very naked men carrying a battered boy. To her credit, she recovered quickly, though her voice shook slightly. “I’ll get the first aid kit and some blankets.”

“Smart girl,” Jorge muttered, already wrapping a blanket around Marcus’ shoulders while Miguel handled Derek and Caleb.

Maria’s hands fluttered over my bruises. “Jorge, prepare tea. Lots of tea.”

The manor’s warmth enveloped us as Marcus carried me inside, my body still trembling despite the brothers’ heatsurrounding me. Without discussion, he headed for the family living room where I’d spent so many comfortable evenings with them during the past two weeks. The familiar space, with its oversized leather furniture and crackling fireplace, felt different now—every shadow holding new meaning.

Marcus settled me into my favorite armchair, the one I always claimed during movie nights. The leather was butter-soft and still held traces of warmth from the nearby fire. Derek and Caleb, now wrapped in blankets, positioned themselves on either side of my chair, their protective instincts clearly visible in every tense line of their bodies.

“Here, pequeño.” Jorge appeared with a steaming mug that smelled of spices and comfort. “My special remedy. Good for shock, better for the soul.”

My hands trembled as I accepted the mug. A soft whine drew my attention to Shadow as he padded over, pressing his warm bulk against my legs. Storm took up position on my other side while Scout, still full of energy despite the night's events, circled the chair twice before flopping dramatically at my feet. The three massive "dogs" created a protective circle around me, their presence somehow both familiar and different now that I knew what they really were.

"Does it help with finding out your crushes are actually wolf shifters?" I asked, finding comfort in Shadow's steady presence as he rested his head on my knee.

Jorge’s warm laugh settled something in my chest. “Ah, for that you need something stronger. When I found out about our furry cousins, I fainted right into the paella. Ruined dinner and my favorite apron.” He settled on the nearby couch, his familiar presence grounding. “Though I suppose learning over a ruined dinner is better than…” He gestured vaguely at my disheveled state.

Maria bustled around me with a blanket, tucking it firmly around my shoulders despite the fire’s warmth. “Drink your tea, cariño. Jorge’s remedies might taste strange, but they work miracles.”

I sipped the spicy-sweet liquid, letting its warmth spread through my chest. The familiar comfort of the living room helped ground me, even as my mind struggled to reconcile everything that had happened. The same coffee table where we’d played cards last week had apparently hosted generations of wolves. The couch where I’d fallen asleep watching movies belonged to three men who could transform into massive wolves.

“I can hear you thinking too hard,” Caleb murmured.

“Can you actually hear me thinking?” I asked, only half joking. “Because apparently that’s a thing now? The whole… smelling emotions thing?”

Derek made a sound that might have been a laugh. “Not thoughts. Just…” He paused, searching for words.

“Chemosignals,” Marcus supplied from where he stood by the fireplace, the flames casting shadows across his face. “Emotions have distinct scents.”

“That’s…” I took another sip of tea, trying to process. “That’s both fascinating and terrifying. Also explains so much about the past few weeks. Like how you always seemed to know when I was upset or…” I felt heat rise to my cheeks, remembering certain… frustrated moments.

Jorge coughed delicately. “Perhaps we should save some revelations for later, yes? When everyone is less…” He gestured vaguely at our collective state of disarray.

Anna hurried in with the first aid kit, her cheeks pink as she tried very hard to look only at faces. Maria immediately began checking my bruises, her touch gentle but efficient.

“These need cleaning,” Maria tutted. “I’ll get a bath ready in your room upstairs.”

“My room?” I blinked, then corrected myself. “I mean, the guest room I usually use?”

“Your room,” Marcus confirmed softly, something possessive in his tone making my stomach flip. “It’s always been your room, little one.”

The implications of that statement made my head spin. Or maybe it was just exhaustion finally catching up with me. The mug trembled in my hands, and Derek steadied it with gentle fingers.

“I’ll have the bath ready in a few minutes,” Maria announced, heading for the stairs with her usual authority. “Then sleep. The world will still be full of shifters in the morning.”

“Can you stand?” Marcus asked softly, already moving toward me with that predatory grace that now made so much more sense.

I tried to push myself up from the chair, but my legs felt like jelly, and my muscles screamed in protest. “I… maybe not?”

Before I could try again, Marcus had swept me up into his arms, blanket and all. The movement should have startled me, but instead, I melted against his chest, too exhausted to maintain any pretense of independence.

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