Chapter Seven – Marked
965 Words
By Monday, everyone knew.
Not just the whispers and looks anymore — but full-on stares, gasps, and even the occasional phone raised for a picture when Alexander kissed me in front of the school steps.
Yeah. He kissed me.
In broad daylight.
Hands in my hair. Mouth on mine. His entire crew watching like it was completely normal for Alexander Kings — Cresthill’s untouchable — to be claiming someone like me in public.
It wasn’t a soft kiss either.
It was hungry.
It was a warning to everyone.
And somehow, it felt more real than anything I'd ever experienced.
---
Tessa practically dragged me into the girls' restroom between first and second period.
"Okay, are you possessed or in love?" she demanded.
I blinked. "Why not both?"
She groaned, grabbing my shoulders. "Ava, you were just a normal girl two weeks ago. Now you’re walking around like the Queen of Chaos with the King of Fire holding your leash.”
“I’m not anyone’s pet,” I muttered.
“No. But he’s definitely claiming territory,” she said, arms crossed. “And trust me — Alexander doesn’t do public. He doesn’t even touch girls where people can see.”
I looked at myself in the mirror. My lips were slightly swollen from the kiss, my eyes too bright, my cheeks still flushed.
I didn’t recognize the girl staring back.
And I couldn’t decide if that scared me or thrilled me.
---
In second period, he sat next to me.
He’d never done that before.
The teacher raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. No one ever challenged Alexander. Not even staff.
His thigh brushed mine under the table, and I tensed.
“You're quiet today,” he whispered, pen twirling between his fingers.
“I’m processing,” I said.
He leaned closer. “Want me to stop?”
I looked at him. Those dark, sinful eyes. That cocky smirk. The bruised knuckles he didn’t even bother hiding.
“No,” I admitted. “I don’t.”
He smiled — just a little. The kind of smile you only caught if you were watching closely.
Which I always was.
---
At lunch, we sat together.
And by we, I mean me and him — not his crew, not my friends, just us at the far end of the cafeteria. His arm draped over the back of my chair like he’d done it a million times.
People watched. Of course they did.
But Alexander didn’t care.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, poking my fork at my salad.
He took a sip of his drink and said, “Because if I don’t, someone else will.”
I glanced at him. “So this is about ownership now?”
He looked me dead in the eye. “No. This is about obsession.”
And the way he said it…
It didn’t sound romantic.
It sounded dangerous.
---
After lunch, I walked past Brielle near the lockers.
She stuck out a leg, trying to trip me.
But I didn’t fall.
I stopped, turned around slowly, and stared at her until she looked away.
She wasn’t used to girls staring back.
I was changing — and not just on the outside.
Inside, something fiercer was waking up.
Something that didn’t want to hide or apologize for falling for the boy everyone warned me about.
Something that didn’t want to be saved.
It wanted to be wanted.
And Alexander Kings wanted me more than anything.
---
Later that afternoon, he skipped his last class.
I found him out back behind the bleachers, smoking again. His jacket was draped over the fence, and his white shirt clung to him, damp from the heat. His tattoos stood out in sharp contrast — black ink curling down his arm like shadows.
“You’re ditching class?” I asked.
“Ditching everything,” he said, pulling me to sit next to him on the bench.
I didn’t resist.
I never did with him.
His eyes locked on mine. “Let me ask you something.”
“Okay.”
“If I hurt someone for touching you, would that scare you?”
I blinked. “What… what do you mean?”
“I mean,” he said, voice low, “if I put someone in the hospital just for looking at you wrong... would that make you run?”
I stared at him, my pulse thudding.
“What did you do?”
He didn’t answer right away.
Then finally, he said, “One of the guys from the soccer team said something about your mouth. So I broke his nose.”
I sucked in a breath. “Alexander—”
“I’m not sorry,” he snapped. “I’ll never be sorry.”
“You can’t just go around hurting people—”
“I can when it’s about you,” he said, grabbing my hand. “I told you, Ava. I don’t know how to love without burning.”
Silence stretched between us.
And even though part of me knew it was wrong — knew it was too much…
Another part of me whispered, He did it for you.
He was the kind of boy who didn’t bring flowers.
He brought bruises and blood.
And somehow… I was okay with that.
---
That night, as I sat on my bed doing homework, I got a text.
Alexander: Look at your neck in the mirror.
Frowning, I walked over and tilted my head.
My breath hitched.
There, just under my jaw, was a faint purple mark — a bruise from where his lips had been earlier. From a kiss he hadn’t even let me process.
He marked me.
And he wanted me to see it.
Another text came in seconds later.
Alexander: Mine.
- Writer
