CHAPTER SIX:THIS IS THE PUNISHMENT?
1275 Words
Silas Silksworth's POV
No scent, extremely fragile and weak, and now with the broken Crescent mark on her back. The same mark we'd spent years looking for. This had to be the joke of all time. This was the punishment?. I could hear Bryan on the phone already, explaining the situation to the seer.
I moved closer to take another look at the mark, but she jolted back as I approached.
"What's going on here, please? What do you want from me?" Her voice wobbled, tears streaking down her face.
This weak, pathetic thing is our mate?
"Where did you get that mark on your back?" I wasn't interested in answering any of her questions. I needed answers to mine.
"It's—it's always been there. I was born with it." Fear made her words stumble over themselves. "Please, I just want to go home. I'm so sorry for any interruptions or inconvenience I might have caused. Please, I need to go home."
My stomach did something strange, a twist, a pull, at how fragile her voice sounded. I shoved the feeling down violently.
No. Absolutely not.
"And you will, Mia," Bryan said, emerging from the study. "But you have to answer some of our questions before leaving."
"That's if you get to leave alive," I added coldly.
Fear flashed across her face, bright and immediate. Good. She should be afraid.
"It doesn't have to end like that," Bryan tried to assure her. "If you comply with our rule."
"What rule?"
"Be as honest as possible."
She nodded quickly, desperately.
"And if you choose to lie or play around," I said, making sure each word landed like a threat, "I will strangle the life out of you myself."
Bryan shot me that look—the one that said ease up—but I didn't care. My message had been delivered.
He dragged a chair closer to her and sat down, facing her directly. His voice softened in that calculated way he had, the way that made people think he was the reasonable one.
He wasn't. He was just better at hiding his teeth.
"So you said that mark on your back has been there since you were born?" Bryan asked. "And you have no idea who we are?"
She nodded, fidgeting now with the torn edge of her shirt.
"And you just moved to Emberpine three months ago?"
Another nod.
I scoffed from where I stood by the window. "You expect us to believe that? That you just happened to stumble into our territory with our mark on your back and no knowledge of what it means?"
"I don't know what it means!" Her voice cracked, rising with desperation. "I don't know what any of this means! I moved here for work, to take care of my father. That's it. I don't know about marks or territories or—or whatever you are!"
"What we are?" I stepped forward, letting my wolf rise just enough that my eyes flashed gold. "You saw exactly what we are tonight."
She flinched, shrinking back against the chair. "The wolves. You're... you can turn into…"
"Werewolves," Bryan replied calmly. "And this town, Emberpine, is our territory. Our pack's territory."
"Pack?" She looked between us, lost and terrified. "I don't understand."
"Of course you don't," I muttered, turning back to the window. Because she was human. Ignorant. Weak. Everything I'd sworn I'd never be tied to.
I'd imagined my mate–despite the fact that it's a punishment –as someone strong. Ruthless. Someone who could stand beside me without flinching at blood or violence. Someone who understood power and how to wield it.
Not this trembling girl who looked like she might shatter if I raised my voice too loud.
"Your father," Bryan continued, his tone gentler now. "You said he's sick?"
"Yes." Her hands twisted in her lap. "He had surgery a few months ago. He's recovering, but he needs me. If I don't come home–"
"He'll worry," Bryan finished.
"He'll think something has happened to me." Fresh tears welled in her eyes. "Please. I don't know what you want from me, but I can't just disappear. He's all I have."
That pull in my chest came again, stronger this time. An instinct that whispered protect her, comfort her, don't let her cry. I crushed it with pure willpower.
"You're lying," I said flatly, even though every instinct I had—the ones I was desperately ignoring—said she wasn't.
"I'm not!" she cried. "I swear, I'm telling the truth. I don't know anything about werewolves or packs or why you think I…"
A knock at the door cut her off.
"That'll be the seer," Bryan said, standing. He looked at Mia.
"Stay here. Don't move." Like she had anywhere to go.
I followed Bryan into the hallway, closing the door behind us. The moment it clicked shut, I rounded on him.
"This is insane," I hissed. "You can't actually believe her story. A human? With our mark? Who just happened to move here right when we're running out of time?, the same mark we've scoured the entire region for?”
"I know how it sounds–"
"It sounds like a trap. Like someone sent her here to mess with us."
"Then why can't we kill her?" Bryan's question stopped me cold. "We brought her from hunt. You tried tonight, Silas. I saw you. You were going for her throat, and you froze. Why?"
I didn't have an answer. Or rather, I had one I refused to accept.
The mate bond.
That primal, undeniable pull that said mine, protect, claim.
"It doesn't mean anything," I said through gritted teeth. "We've been cursed for ten years. Our wolves are barely under control. Maybe we're just... malfunctioning."
"Malfunctioning," Bryan repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"You know what I mean."
"I know you're in denial."
"I'm being realistic!" My voice rose. "Look at her, Bryan. She's human. Fragile. Clueless. How is she supposed to be our Luna? How is she supposed to protect the pack? Lead alongside us? She'd be dead within a week!"
"Maybe that's the point."
I stared at him. "What?"
"The curse," he said quietly. "It was meant to teach us something, remember? To restore our humanity. Maybe the Moon Goddess gave us someone who needs protection instead of someone who provides it. Maybe we're supposed to learn to care about something other than power and survival."
"That's bullshit."
"Is it?"
Before I could answer, footsteps echoed up the stairs. Elder Thorne, our pack's seer appeared, ancient, hunched, with eyes that saw too much.
"Where is she?" His voice rasped like old paper.
Bryan opened the door. Mia looked up, her face pale and streaked with tears. When she saw Thorne, she pressed herself further into the chair, as if she could disappear into it.
Thorne moved toward her slowly, his gaze fixed on her like she was a puzzle to solve. "Stand up, girl."
She hesitated, looking at Bryan. He nodded. "It's all right. He won't hurt you."
Slowly, she stood, her whole body trembling.
"Turn around," Thorne commanded.
She did, and he examined the mark on her back–the broken crescent moon that matched the ones Bryan and I bore. Then he brought out the ancient mirror and shone it to the mark, it glittered.
The room was silent except for her shaky breathing.
Finally, Thorne stepped back. He looked at us, his expression grave.
"It's confirmed," he said. “It is indeed the mark. She's your fated mate."
Mia turned, confusion written all over her face. "Mate? What does that mean?"
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