Chapter 3: The Marked Girl
1662 Words
Echo's POV
I didn't realize I was running until I reached the forest.
The Academy disappeared behind me.
The whispers.
The stares.
The pity.
All of it faded beneath the pounding of my feet against wet earth.
Branches snagged my sleeves.
Leaves slapped my face.
I kept going.
Because if I stopped
I would break.
The image replayed over and over inside my head.
Kieran standing beside Vivienne.
Kieran announcing our relationship was over.
Kieran accepting the Council's decision.
I knew why he'd done it.
That somehow made it worse.
If he'd stopped loving me, I could hate him.
If he'd betrayed me, I could be angry.
But he still loved me.
I had seen it in his eyes.
Seen the pain.
Seen the helplessness.
The Council hadn't just broken my heart.
They'd broken his too.
I stumbled to a stop beside the lake.
Our lake.
The place where Kieran taught me how to skip stones.
The place where we'd sit for hours, planning our future.
The place where he'd promised me forever.
My legs gave out.
I collapsed onto the muddy shoreline.
And finally—
I cried.
Not pretty tears.
Not silent tears.
The ugly kind.
The kind that hurt.
The kind that ripped through your chest and left scars.
I cried for the future we'd lost.
For the baby growing inside me.
For the boy who had been forced to stand in front of an entire Academy and reject the girl he loved.
For myself.
Most of all—
I cried because I was afraid.
The Council believed I carried the beginning of an ancient prophecy.
That truth sat inside my chest like ice.
Every time I thought about it, I stopped breathing.
Because they weren't bluffing.
They weren't trying to scare me.
They were serious.
They truly believed the prophecy had awakened.
And powerful people who believed they were protecting the future could justify almost anything.
Even ancient rituals.
Especially ancient rituals.
My hands moved instinctively to my stomach.
Seven weeks.
Still so small.
Still hidden.
Still ours.
A sob escaped me.
"I'm trying," I whispered.
The words weren't meant for anyone.
Not really.
Maybe for the baby.
Maybe for myself.
Maybe for whatever cruel force had decided my life needed a prophecy attached to it.
"I'm trying."
The wind carried the words away.
No answer came back.
---
By the time I got home, the sky had darkened.
Rain clouds covered Blackthorn territory.
The old Hawthorne house sat exactly where it always had.
Small.
Weathered.
Safe.
Or at least it used to be.
Grandma was waiting on the porch.
The second she saw my face, her shoulders slumped.
She already knew.
Maybe not the details.
But enough.
"What happened?"
I couldn't answer.
Not immediately.
Because if I started talking, I wasn't sure I could stop.
Grandma opened her arms.
That was all it took.
I crossed the yard and practically fell into them.
For a long moment neither of us spoke.
She simply held me.
The way she'd held me after nightmares as a child.
The way she'd held me after my parents died.
The way only grandmothers knew how.
Eventually she sighed.
"It was the Council."
Not a question.
A statement.
I pulled away slightly.
"How do you know?"
Her expression darkened.
"Because whenever Hawthorne women cry, the Council is usually involved."
My pulse skipped.
"What does that mean?"
Silence.
The dangerous kind.
The kind that existed around secrets.
Grandma looked toward the trees.
Making sure we were alone.
Then she lowered her voice.
"Come inside."
---
The kitchen smelled like cinnamon and tea.
Normally it made me feel safe.
Tonight it made me nervous.
Grandma sat across from me.
Hands wrapped around a mug.
Thinking.
Deciding.
Finally she spoke.
"You asked me about the Hawthorne Prophecy this morning."
I nodded.
Her gaze lifted.
And for the first time in my life—
I saw fear in my grandmother's eyes.
Real fear.
"Hawthorne women have been hunted for generations."
Cold spread through my chest.
"What?"
"They were called Keepers once."
The word meant nothing to me.
Grandma continued.
"Long before Blackthorn existed. Before the treaties. Before the Council."
I stared.
"The Hawthorne bloodline carried something rare."
"What?"
Her voice became barely a whisper.
"The ability to hold power."
I frowned.
"Everyone holds power."
"No."
Her expression tightened.
"Not like this."
The room felt colder.
"The stories say Hawthorne women could store memories."
My pulse quickened.
"Memories?"
"They could hold abilities no one else could."
"Abilities unknown to mankind."
I laughed.
The sound died quickly.
Because Grandma wasn't smiling.
She wasn't joking.
At all.
My stomach twisted.
"The Council believes those abilities died out."
A pause.
"They're terrified the prophecy means they were wrong."
The silence stretched.
Every instinct I possessed screamed that this conversation was important.
Life-changing.
Dangerous.
"What exactly does the prophecy say?"
Grandma hesitated.
Too long.
Then finally:
"'The last Hawthorne will carry the Alpha heir.'"
I froze.
The exact words Kieran had repeated.
"'The child will unite blood and wolf.'"
My heartbeat accelerated.
"'And the father will choose the Pack or the mother.'"
The room went silent.
Grandma looked exhausted.
Like speaking the words had cost her something.
"What happens after that?"
Her face paled.
"Nobody knows."
A chill ran down my spine.
Because that wasn't the answer of someone hiding information.
That was the answer of someone genuinely afraid.
---
That night I couldn't concentrate.
Couldn't read.
Couldn't study.
Couldn't sleep.
I kept replaying every conversation.
Every warning.
Every strange look.
Every lie.
The prophecy.
The Council.
Vivienne.
The baby.
Everything felt connected.
I just couldn't see how.
A sound outside my window made me freeze.
My head snapped up.
Nothing.
Just darkness.
Trees.
Rain.
I exhaled slowly.
Then movement caught my eye.
A figure stood near the road.
Watching the house.
My stomach dropped.
A Council guard.
I recognized the uniform instantly.
What was he doing here?
The answer came too fast.
Watching me.
Fear crawled up my spine.
I moved away from the window.
Then another shape appeared farther down the road.
Another guard.
My pulse spiked.
Two.
Not one.
Two.
The realization hit hard.
They weren't protecting me.
They were making sure I couldn't disappear before the Council was ready.
---
The next morning wasn't any better.
If anything, it was worse.
The whispers followed me through the Academy.
Students stared openly now.
Nobody bothered pretending.
I heard fragments everywhere.
"That's her."
"The rejected girl."
"The prophecy girl."
"Poor thing."
I hated that one most of all.
Poor thing.
Like I was already doomed.
By lunchtime I was ready to scream.
Instead I escaped to the library.
The one place that had always felt safe.
The one place that belonged to Kieran and me.
At least it used to.
I rounded a bookshelf.
And stopped.
Vivienne Crowe sat at our table.
My table.
His table.
The table where we'd studied.
Laughed.
Planned our future.
Vivienne looked up.
Smiled.
The gesture immediately raised every instinct I possessed.
Because it wasn't a warm smile.
It wasn't friendly.
It was calculated.
Predatory.
"Echo."
The way she said my name made my skin crawl.
I considered walking away.
Instead I stayed.
"What do you want?"
Her smile widened.
"To talk."
"I'd rather not."
"I know."
The confidence irritated me.
Vivienne closed the book she'd been pretending to read.
"You love him."
Not a question.
I folded my arms.
"What gave it away?"
Amusement flickered in her eyes.
"You'd be surprised how many girls convince themselves they do."
My jaw tightened.
"Is there a point to this conversation?"
"There is."
She stood.
Tall.
Elegant.
Dangerous.
For the first time I realized something.
Vivienne wasn't beautiful in spite of being dangerous.
She was beautiful because she was dangerous.
The realization unsettled me.
She stepped closer.
Not enough to threaten.
Just enough to invade my space.
"I know what the Academy thinks."
I said nothing.
"I know what they're saying about you."
Still nothing.
Vivienne's smile softened.
Somehow that was worse.
"They think you're the victim."
My stomach tightened.
"And you don't?"
She tilted her head.
Studying me.
Like I was a puzzle.
Or prey.
"I'm saying stories are rarely that simple."
The air between us felt wrong.
Heavy.
Like standing near a storm.
Then she leaned closer.
And whispered:
"You should leave Blackthorn."
My pulse froze.
"What?"
"You heard me."
Her voice remained pleasant.
Polite.
Deadly.
"Why?"
For the first time, her smile reached her eyes.
And that terrified me.
Because there was absolutely no kindness in it.
"Because girls mentioned in prophecies rarely have peaceful lives."
Silence.
My heartbeat thundered.
Vivienne stepped back.
As if she hadn't just threatened me.
As if she'd commented on the weather.
Then she picked up her book.
"Have a nice day, Echo."
And walked away.
Leaving me frozen beside the table.
Unable to move.
Unable to breathe.
Unable to stop shaking.
Because suddenly—
I wasn't afraid of the Council.
I was afraid of her.
---
That evening I stood in my bedroom staring out the window.
The guards were still there.
One near the road.
One near the trees.
Watching.
Waiting.
Containing.
Not protecting.
Containing.
The realization settled heavily inside my chest.
The Council wasn't worried about my safety.
They were worried about the prophecy.
About the ritual they believed would stop it.
About whatever Hawthorne women were supposed to become.
My hand rested on my stomach.
Protective.
Terrified.
Determined.
Somewhere in the darkness beyond the trees—
a branch snapped.
The sound made me jump.
Then silence returned.
Heavy.
Unnatural.
Wrong.
For a brief moment, I had the horrible feeling that someone else was watching too.
Not a Council guard.
Not Kieran.
Someone else.
Someone hidden.
Someone patient.
Someone waiting.
A chill crawled across my skin.
Because for the first time since the prophecy began—
I realized something terrifying.
I wasn't being protected.
I was being contained.
And whatever was coming for me...
was getting closer.
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