Page 41 of Marked

Inside, I pressed my forehead against the cool wood of the door and tried to steady my breathing. What was happening to me?

I made it through my bedtime routine on autopilot, mind spinning like a hamster on a particularly caffeinated wheel. The hot shower helped ease the lingering tension in my muscles but did nothing for the ghost of Caleb’s touch that seemed burned into my skin.

“Get it together,” I muttered to my reflection as I toweled off. “So what if he’s gorgeous and charming and probably owns half the town? So what if his brother looks at you like he wants to eat you alive? So what if—” I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. “Oh God, I’m talking to myself. This is fine. Everything’s fine.”

The scar on my hip caught my eye in the mirror, a silvery mark that seemed to shimmer in the bathroom light. It looked different somehow—warmer, almost glowing, the three distinct lines forming their strange triangle pattern more pronounced than usual. Mom would never tell me how I got these marks, changing the subject whenever I asked. But ever since I arrived in Cedar Grove, the scar seemed… alive. Responsive. Especially around Marcus and Caleb, like how it had burned when Caleb touched me earlier. Around other people, it was just a scar, but with the Stone brothers…

I traced the lines with my fingertips, remembering the heat of Caleb’s touch. The marks tingled under my fingers, and for a moment, I could have sworn they gleamed with an otherworldly silver light. I blinked and it was back to normal. Great. Now I was hallucinating.

I pulled on an oversized t-shirt and sleep shorts, trying not to think about how Caleb’s hand had felt on my back or how Marcus had looked at me over coffee this morning or how my body seemed to know something my brain didn’t. The Stone brothers were like different flavors of danger, and here I was, apparently determined to sample the whole menu.

Grabbing my sleeping bag from where I’d left it in the living room—because no way was I sleeping upstairs in this creepy old house yet—I settled onto the floor near the couch.

“Okay, let’s review,” I said to the empty room, because apparently talking to myself was just a thing I did now. “Marcus is all power and control and ‘I could buy and sell your soul but maybe I’ll just keep you instead.’” A shiver ran through me at the memory of his commanding presence. “And their brother Derek…” I paused, remembering how Marcus had mentioned him briefly at lunch. Something told me he’d be just as overwhelming as the others.

“And Caleb…” I touched my cheek where he’d kissed me, my scar warming at the memory. “Caleb is sunshine wrapped around a steel core, and somehow that’s even more dangerous.”

My phone buzzed beside my makeshift bed. Speaking of danger…

Had a great time tonight. Sweet dreams, Kai.—Caleb

I stared at my phone, fingers hovering over the keyboard when it started buzzing with an incoming call. Luke’s face flashed on the screen.

“You’re alive!” Luke’s voice was a mix of relief and accusation. “I’ve been waiting for the ‘help, I’m being murdered’ text all night.”

“Sorry, mom,” I rolled my eyes. “I was a bit distracted.”

“Oh? Do tell. And don’t skip the juicy parts.”

I told him about dinner, about Caleb’s charm and the strange intensity that seemed to run just beneath it. About how my body kept reacting to him in ways I couldn’t explain.

“Hmm.” Luke’s tone had that edge it got when he was worried but trying to hide it. “Just… be careful, okay? Something about this whole situation feels…”

“Weird? Yeah, tell me about it.” I glanced at the window, remembering Caleb’s glowing eyes. “But also…”

“Right?” I could hear his knowing smirk. “Look, just keep texting me. And if anything feels off—and I mean really off, not justhot guy makes me tinglyoff—you call me immediately. Promise?”

“Promise.” I yawned. “Now, can I go to sleep, or do you need a detailed report of what he was wearing too?”

“Text me tomorrow.” Luke laughed. “And Kai? I mean it about being careful.”

After we hung up, I looked back at Caleb’s message. Something about it made my scar tingle. Like everything else about Caleb, it felt both dangerous and safe at the same time—a contradiction that should have worried me more than it did.

I thought about his glowing eyes in the darkness, that strange rumble in his chest that had made me want to lean closer instead of run away. How everything about him should have screamed danger but instead felt like… home.

I definitely didn’t smile at the message. And I absolutely didn’t spend ten minutes composing a casual “thanks, you too” response. And I most certainly didn’t fall asleep thinking about electric blue eyes and gentle hands and the way my body seemed to recognize something my mind couldn’t comprehend.

In my dreams, wolves ran through moonlit forests, and I wasn’t afraid.

The largest was dark gray, moving like a living shadow through the trees. Another was golden-brown, playful and quick,darting between moonbeams. And the third… the third was pitch-black with eyes that burned like embers in the dark. They circled something—someone—and I realized with a start that it was me.

But I wasn’t scared. Not like I should have been. Instead, I felt… safe. Protected. Like I belonged.

The golden-brown wolf—so familiar somehow—pressed close, nuzzling my hand. Its fur was soft, its eyes electric blue, just like…

I jerked awake, heart pounding, the sleeping bag tangled around my legs. The living room was dark except for slivers of moonlight sneaking through the curtains. Something moved in the shadows outside the window—probably just branches in the wind, but…

A howl echoed in the distance, so faint I might have imagined it. My scar tingled, and I pulled the sleeping bag tighter around me, trying to shake off the dream that felt more like a memory.

---