Marked
966 Words
Lena
I felt different.
Not just “just-had-the-best-s*x-of-my-life” different. Not just “woke up glowing and sore in the best way possible” different.
No. This was otherworldly.
My skin tingled. My senses were sharp. I could hear the birds outside like they were three feet away. Smell the coffee brewing in the next room. Feel Logan in the cabin, even when he wasn’t touching me.
I was... connected.
Bonded.
Claimed.
Marked.
And part of me should’ve panicked. Should’ve freaked the hell out.
But I didn’t.
Because for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel alone.
I padded into the kitchen wearing only one of Logan’s flannels—because yes, I was that girl now—and found him at the stove again.
He was fully dressed this time, which honestly felt like a crime against humanity.
He turned the moment I walked in. Like he sensed me.
Scratch that. He definitely sensed me.
His eyes darkened as he scanned me, slowing at the place where his mark still throbbed faintly on my neck. A perfect bite. Deep. Clean. Intimate.
He was across the room in three steps.
His hand curled around my hip. The other slid into my hair, tilting my head so he could kiss the mark. Not my mouth. Just the place he claimed me.
And that kiss?
Hotter than any I’d had before.
“You smell like me now,” he whispered.
My legs nearly gave out.
“Is that a shifter thing?” I asked, dazed.
“It’s an everything thing,” he said, voice low, possessive. “Anyone who comes near you now? They’ll know you’re mine.”
I shivered. “You say that like it’s a threat.”
“It is.”
----------
Logan
I was trying to be calm.
I was trying to be normal.
But my instincts were lit up like fire through my veins. Every sound, every scent, every movement outside the cabin felt wrong. Off. Like something was creeping closer.
Lena’s bond had triggered something in me.
More than instinct.
Territory.
Need.
Claim.
It was rare for a bonded mate to still be in danger—but she was. That rogue from the woods wasn’t gone. Not really. He’d limped away, but he’d felt her. Scented her. And now?
She wore my mark.
Which meant the bastard would either back off… or get brave.
And stupid.
And dead.
I kissed her one last time and pulled away. “Stay inside. No matter what.”
Her brows pulled together. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m going to check the perimeter.”
“You’re acting like something’s out there.”
I didn’t answer.
Because it was more than a feeling.
It was fact.
----------
Lena
I stayed by the window, chewing my nail like a nervous wreck, and watched Logan disappear into the trees.
He moved like something that belonged to the woods. Silent. Predatory. Lethal.
I trusted him. That wasn’t the problem.
The problem was the feeling clawing at my chest.
A chill.
Like eyes on my back.
The mark on my neck pulsed, like a warning.
Then I heard it.
A knock.
Slow. Heavy.
At the back door.
I froze.
“Logan?” I called out.
No answer.
Another knock.
I moved quietly, pressing my back to the wall, inching toward the kitchen where he kept that hunting knife on the counter. My fingers wrapped around the hilt just as the voice came through the door.
“I can smell it on you,” it rasped.
Male. Low. Familiar.
That bastard wolf.
“You really let him mark you, didn’t you? Thought I was exaggerating. But you stink of him now.”
I swallowed hard.
“Don’t bother hiding,” he continued, tapping the wood. “I ain’t gonna hurt you. I just wanna see what kind of girl lets herself get claimed by a beast like him. Thought you had more sense than that.”
That was it.
I yanked the door open.
He was standing ten feet away in the clearing—dirty, blood-crusted, eyes wild. His mouth curled into a smug grin the second he saw me.
“Hello again, sweetheart.”
“You’re gonna regret this,” I said coldly.
He took a step forward. “I don’t want to fight. I just want to talk.”
“Funny,” came a voice behind him, low and lethal, “so do I.”
The wolf froze.
Then turned.
Logan was standing ten feet behind him.
Naked.
Shifting.
Midair.
I gasped as fur exploded over skin, muscle reshaped itself, and Logan’s bear hit the ground with a bone-shaking roar.
The rogue didn’t stand a chance.
It wasn’t a fight.
It was war.
----------
Logan
I didn’t go easy on him this time.
I didn’t fight to win.
I fought to end it.
The wolf slashed at me once before I caught him mid-leap and slammed him into a tree hard enough to shake birds loose. I felt his ribs give under my claws. Felt the fear pour off him when he realized—
She’s mine.
You touched her.
You should’ve run.
The final blow came fast.
One strike. One gurgled breath.
Then silence.
I shifted back, breathing heavy, blood cooling on my skin.
Lena stood in the doorway, eyes wide.
“You okay?” I asked, voice raw.
She nodded slowly. “I think I am.”
I crossed the distance between us, scooped her into my arms, and kissed her hard—tasting adrenaline, relief, and the bond that was now fused so deep I could feel her pulse in my bones.
“No one touches what’s mine,” I whispered.
“I’m starting to believe that.”
- Writer
