Lucien
Lucien hasn't marked anything in years.
Not with blood. Not with a claw. Not since a council member taught him restraint was more noble than instinct.
But as the glyph on his arm synced with Mira's and the fourth bloom shimmered awake, his body responded in ways he didn't command.
His wolf stirred- not to hunt. To guard.
He stepped outside the greenhouse into the edge of Mira's garden. The fog hung low, curling through herbs and woven vines. The earth vibrated underfoot- faint, steady, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat.
Lucien knelt.
His fingers touched the soil.
A flicker of glyph- light passed through his skin and into the ground, and beneath it, roots surged outward- silver-veined, spiraling like a protective ward.
Not fence.
Circle.
A ring of ancestral blo
