The Markless

Chapter 17: The Markless Girl

The first time Avery laid eyes on Lunaris Academy, it took her breath away.

Perched atop a mist-shrouded cliff and surrounded by dense, whispering woods, the Academy looked less like a school and more like an ancient castle torn straight from a storybook. Its turrets stretched into the gray sky, and its stone walls glistened faintly with an ethereal shimmer. Banners hung from high arches bearing the sigils of various packs—wolves in different stances, moons in different phases. The scent of old magic hung heavy in the air, like rain before a storm.

It should’ve been awe-inspiring.

But instead, Avery felt cold. And watched.

She clutched her coat tighter around herself as they walked through the massive gates. Ben walked beside her, stiff and uncharacteristically silent. Since the Shadow Beast encounter in the woods, he’d been protective—more than usual. He hadn’t left her side.

“I feel like someone’s... following me,” she whispered as they crossed the main courtyard.

Ben’s gaze flicked around them, his hand brushing against her back. “I’ve noticed it too. Just keep walking. We’re almost there.”

She nodded but couldn’t shake the sensation—the hairs on her neck prickled, her gut twisted. Something was wrong. It wasn’t just paranoia; it was instinct.

Inside, the castle-like academy was a labyrinth of grand staircases, whispering portraits, floating lanterns, and arched ceilings painted with constellations. Magic flickered subtly in every corner—books that flew back to their shelves, students who vanished behind hidden doors, and spirits that whispered ancient tongue from cold stone.

Avery’s heart should’ve been racing with excitement.

But then she met the Headmistress.

The entire atmosphere shifted the moment they stepped into her office. Gone was the warmth of whimsical magic. Instead, cold air and silent judgment filled the room. The Headmistress sat behind an obsidian desk, her posture ruler-straight, eyes sharp like glass.

“Miss Avery Summer,” she said without rising. Her voice was crisp, refined, and deeply unwelcoming. “We expected you sooner. I suppose wild outbursts delay even the destined.”

Avery glanced nervously at Ben.

“I—I didn’t mean for that to happen,” she murmured.

“Intent is irrelevant. Results are what matter at Lunaris Academy,” the Headmistress snapped. She had icy blonde hair tied in a tight bun and silver-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. Every word she spoke felt like a blade.

Ben stepped forward. “She was attacked, Headmistress. What happened wasn’t her fault.”

“I did not address you, Mr. Darrow,” the Headmistress said, eyes narrowing. “You are her guardian for now, not her mouthpiece.”

Avery’s fists clenched at her sides, but she held her tongue.

“We will test her,” the Headmistress continued. “For the safety of this institution. We cannot allow a potential threat to roam free among our students.”

Before Avery could protest, two elder mages stepped forward from the shadows. One held a golden disk etched with runes—the Lunar Sigil. It was used to reveal marks and lineage.

“She has a mark,” Ben said confidently. “She has to.”

Avery stepped forward, swallowing her nerves. The disk glowed faintly as they placed it near her chest.

Nothing happened.

No glow. No shimmer. No mark.

Silence fell like a guillotine.

“That’s… impossible,” one of the mages murmured, adjusting the disk and trying again. Still, the device remained inert.

“Try again,” Ben said, a note of panic in his voice. “There’s a mistake.”

“We don’t make mistakes,” the Headmistress said coldly. “Everyone has a lunar mark—it's how the Moon Goddess binds us to our fate.”

Avery’s voice trembled. “But… I had visions. I saw things. The Luna Stone reacted to me—”

“Luna Stones react to many things,” the Headmistress cut in. “Curiosity. Chaos. Darkness.”

“You think she’s dangerous?” Ben growled.

“I think she is unknown,” the Headmistress answered. “And the unknown must be watched.”

Avery felt like her world had flipped. No mark? How could she not have a mark? Even the weakest pups had one. The Lunar Mark was the soul’s brand—the Moon Goddess’s tether.

“What does this mean?” she asked softly.

The Headmistress stood. “It means you are not what we thought. You will be placed in observation. Restricted access to other students until further notice.”

Ben protested immediately. “That’s not fair! You can’t isolate her like some cursed object!”

The Headmistress’ gaze sliced through him. “Watch yourself, Mr. Darrow. Or you will find yourself stripped of your role.”

Avery swallowed back the lump in her throat. “I’ll do it,” she whispered. “I’ll prove I’m not a danger.”

“Very well,” the Headmistress said. “Dismissed.”

That night, Avery lay on a simple cot in a room with no windows. The walls were white and bare, the silence pressing. It felt more like a ward than a dormitory.

She closed her eyes. The dream came almost instantly.

A forest burned around her, the trees cracking like bones. Wolves howled in the distance—then turned into shadows with glowing red eyes. She ran through the smoke, her feet bare, her heart thundering.

And then she saw her again.

The girl who looked like her. Same eyes. Same face. But older. Stronger. And marked.

The girl turned slowly. “You are not me. You are what comes after me.”

Avery gasped. “What does that mean? Who are you?”

But the dream dissolved into fire and smoke. She jolted upright, sweat pouring down her face.

The door opened. Ben stood there, breathless. “I heard you scream.”

Avery panted, nodding. “The dream again. It’s... getting stronger. She’s always there.”

Ben stepped inside, kneeling beside her cot. “We’ll figure this out. Mark or no mark, I’m not leaving you.”

“They think I’m cursed,” she whispered.

“They’re wrong,” he said fiercely. “You’re more than a mark. I feel it. Every time I’m near you.”

Their eyes locked. For a moment, Avery felt that pull again. That strange tether she couldn’t explain. It wasn’t magic—it was something else. Something deeper.

“Do you think…” she hesitated. “Do you think I’m someone’s fated mate?”

Ben looked away. “Maybe. Maybe you’re someone who’s meant to rewrite the rules.”