Luna's Howl Of Vengeance

Chapter Four:The Mark That Glowed

Chapter Four: The Mark That Glowed

Elara sat on the low wooden bench inside the shelter exactly as Riven had told her.

Her wet clothes still clung to her skin and the cold from the river had settled deep into her muscles.

She kept both hands open on her knees so he could see them.

The silver light from the crescent mark had faded again but a steady heat remained under the skin, stronger than anything she had felt on the journey north.

Riven stood a few feet away with his arms crossed.

The two other wolves had gone quiet at their work and watched from the edge of the clearing without coming closer.

His silver eyes stayed fixed on the place just above her collarbone.

“Show me again,” he said.

Elara hesitated, then pulled the neck of her shirt a little lower.

The mark looked ordinary now, only a pale crescent shape against her skin.

“It started after the rejection. It burned when I crossed the boundary and again when I left the river. I do not know why it lit up.”

Riven stepped closer and crouched so his eyes were level with the mark. He did not touch her.

“Most rejected wolves carry the broken bond like a wound for weeks. They do not walk this far in one stretch and they do not carry marks that throw light.”

He rocked back on his heels and studied her face.

“Where did you come from exactly?”

“Blackthorn Pack,” she answered.

“The Claiming was last night under the blood moon. Alpha Kael rejected me in front of everyone. He said I was not strong enough. Elder Thorne agreed. They stripped my rank and ordered me out by dawn.”

Riven’s expression did not change but something in his posture shifted.

“Kael Blackthorn. I know the name. Rigid about bloodlines and strength.” He stayed quiet for several seconds, still watching the mark.

“You walked straight through the night with a fresh bond break. That alone should have put you on the ground. Yet here you are sitting upright and answering questions.”

Elara felt the empty ache in her chest pulse harder under his attention. She kept her voice even.

“I could not stay where they watched it happen. Walking was the only thing that made sense.”

“And the mark?”

“I never noticed it doing anything before last night. It was just a birthmark. After he spoke the rejection it started to hurt. The farther I walked the warmer it got.”

Riven stood and walked to the cold fire pit.

He struck a flint until a small flame caught the dry wood and grew.

The light pushed some of the gray afternoon back. He spoke without looking at her at first.

“There are old stories about marks that stay quiet until something breaks them open. Most packs treat those stories like children’s talk. I do not.” He turned back to her.

“You can stay the night. Eat. Sleep. In the morning I will decide if you remain longer. If that mark flares again you tell me immediately. No secrets while you are under this roof.”

Elara nodded. The offer should have brought relief. Instead the heat in the mark climbed a degree higher as if it had heard him.

She accepted a dry shirt and pants from the small pile inside the shelter and changed behind a hanging blanket.

When she came out Riven handed her a bowl of thick stew from the pot.

She ate slowly because her stomach had gone tight from the long fast and the constant strain.

One of the other wolves, a woman with a scar across her jaw, spoke from her seat near the tools.

“She smells like fresh rejection and something else underneath. You catching that?”

“I am catching it,” Riven said.

“Keep your distance until I say otherwise.”

Elara set the empty bowl aside. The broken bond still sat heavy under her ribs.

She leaned her back against the shelter wall and closed her eyes for a moment. The mark still burned. She could feel Riven watching her even with her eyes shut.

When she opened them again he was seated on a stump across from her, elbows on his knees.

“If you stay past tomorrow you will train,” he said.

“Not because I need another fighter. Because whatever is waking in that mark will not stay quiet and I will not have an uncontrolled flare inside my camp. You either learn to hold it or you leave before it draws the wrong attention.”

Elara met his gaze. The idea of training under someone who did not already decide she was weak settled somewhere solid in her.

“I will train.”

Riven gave a short nod.

“Then rest while you can. Dawn comes early here.”

She stretched out on the thin pallet inside the shelter. Sleep did not come quickly.

The broken bond and the heat in the mark kept her aware of every small sound in the clearing.

Sometime near full dark the crescent shape on her collarbone flared again without warning, bright enough that the silver light spilled across the wooden wall.

Riven was already on his feet and moving toward her before she could speak.