The Viper's Claim

Chapter 3.

Chapter Three: The Weight of Secrets

My scar burns like it’s trying to claw its way out of my skin, the silver glow pulsing in time with my racing heart. Lila’s grip on my arm is tight, her nails digging in as she yanks me down the narrow hallway, away from the balcony and the pack’s accusing eyes. The growl in my head hasn’t stopped, a low, primal rumble that makes my bones ache. It’s not just a sound it’s a warning, and I don’t know if it’s coming from me or something else.

“Move, Elara!” Lila hisses, her voice sharp with panic. Her hazel eyes dart behind us, where the courtyard’s chaos echoes, shouts, footsteps, Torin’s booming orders. “If they catch you, it’s over. Torin’s not messing around.”

I stumble after her, my bare feet slapping against the cold stone floor. The oversized shirt flaps against my thighs, and I clutch my wrist, trying to hide the glow. “Where are we going?” I want to ask, but my voice is still gone, trapped somewhere deep inside. I point ahead, my eyes pleading for answers.

Lila glances at me, her freckled face pale. “There’s a back tunnel,” she says, her voice low. “Used to be for storage, but it leads out to the forest. If we can get you there, you’ll have a chance.”

A chance. The word feels hollow. A chance for what? To run? To hide? I don’t even know what I’m running from—or what I am. That vision on the balcony, the woman with my face, her hands splitting the earth… it felt real, like a memory I didn’t know I had. My scar throbs again, and I bite my lip to keep from gasping.

We round a corner, and Lila shoves open a heavy wooden door, revealing a dark, musty tunnel. The air smells of damp earth and something sharp, like old blood. She pulls me inside, slamming the door behind us. The darkness swallows us, broken only by a faint torch flickering on the wall. Lila grabs it, holding it high, and the light dances across her face, making her look younger, more scared.

“You okay?” she asks, her voice softer now. “You looked like you were gonna pass out back there.”

I nod, but it’s a lie. My head’s spinning, the growl still echoing, and my scar feels like it’s burning a hole through me. I point at it, pulling up my sleeve just enough to show her the glowing crescent. Her eyes widen, and she takes a step back, her dagger half-drawn.

“Elara, that’s not normal,” she says, her voice trembling. “What is that?”

I shake my head, my throat tight. I don’t know. I wish I did. I point at her, then at the tunnel, trying to ask why she’s helping me. Everyone else in this place looks at me like I’m a curse, but Lila’s here, risking everything.

She catches my meaning and sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I know what it’s like to be the odd one out,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “My brother… he was different too. Not like you, but… he didn’t fit. The pack never let him forget it. When he died, I promised myself I’d never let someone else feel that alone.” Her eyes meet mine, and there’s a rawness there, a pain that makes my chest ache. “You’re not alone, Elara. Not while I’m here.”

Her words hit me hard, and for a moment, I want to believe her. But the growl in my head grows louder, and I flinch, my hand flying to my temple. Lila’s hand hovers over my shoulder, like she’s afraid to touch me. “What’s wrong? You’re hearing something, aren’t you?”

I nod, my eyes stinging with tears I won’t let fall. It’s not just the growl, it’s the feeling, like something’s watching, waiting. Something that knows what my scar means, even if I don’t.

Before Lila can say more, a shout echoes from the hallway behind us. “This way!” a voice barks deep, male, not Jasper’s. My heart lurches, and Lila grabs my hand, pulling me deeper into the tunnel.

“Run!” she whispers, and we do, the torchlight bouncing wildly as we stumble over uneven stone. The tunnel twists and turns, the walls closing in, and my scar burns hotter with every step. The growl in my head is a roar now, and I swear I see something move in the shadows ahead—a flicker of eyes, silver and sharp, gone before I can be sure.

We burst out of the tunnel into the forest, the night air cold and sharp against my skin. The moon hangs low, full and heavy, casting silver light over the pines. Lila drops the torch, stomping it out in the dirt. “We can’t stay here long,” she says, her breath coming in quick puffs. “The pack’s trackers are fast. We need to keep moving.”

I nod, but my legs feel like lead. The growl’s quieter now, but it’s still there, like a pulse in my skull. My scar’s glow has faded, but it’s still warm, and I keep my sleeve pulled down, hiding it. Lila scans the trees, her dagger in hand, and I see the tension in her shoulders, the way her eyes flick to every rustle of leaves.

“You ever been out here at night?” she asks, her voice low. “The forest’s different when the moon’s full. It’s like… it’s alive.”

I nod, remembering last night running, bleeding, lost. The forest didn’t feel alive then. It felt like it wanted to swallow me whole. I point at her dagger, then at the trees, trying to ask if she’s ready for whatever’s out there.

She grins, but it’s shaky. “Don’t worry, I’m quick with this thing. My brother taught me.” Her voice catches on his name, and she looks away, her jaw tight. “He was good with a blade. Said it was the only way to keep the pack off your back.”

I want to ask about him, about what happened, but my voice stays silent. Instead, I touch her arm, just a brush of my fingers, and her eyes meet mine, soft and sad. “Thanks,” she whispers. “You’re okay, Elara. Weird scar and all.”

A twig snaps nearby, and we both freeze. Lila’s dagger is up in an instant, her body tense. “Stay behind me,” she says, her voice barely audible. I press myself against a tree, my heart pounding, and peer into the darkness. The growl in my head is back, louder, and my scar flares, a sharp sting that makes me gasp.

“Elara?” a voice calls, low and urgent. Jasper. Relief floods me, but it’s short-lived. He steps into the moonlight, his green eyes glinting, his hands still streaked with blood. He’s alone, but his posture is rigid, like he’s carrying the weight of the whole pack on his shoulders.

“What are you doing out here?” he demands, his eyes flicking between me and Lila. “I told you to stay put!”

“Don’t yell at her,” Lila snaps, stepping in front of me. “The pack’s out for her blood, thanks to your dad. What was she supposed to do, wait for them to drag her out?”

Jasper’s face hardens, but there’s pain in his eyes, like he’s fighting something inside. “You don’t get it, Lila. They think she’s tied to the murders. That symbol on the cloth it’s the same as her scar.”

My stomach drops, and I clutch my wrist, my sleeve slipping to reveal the crescent mark. Jasper’s eyes lock on it, and for a moment, he looks like he did last night—young, scared, the boy who promised to keep me safe. But then his expression shifts, colder, like he’s remembering who he’s supposed to be.

“Elara,” he says, his voice low. “You need to tell me the truth. Do you know anything about this? About the blood, the symbol?”

I shake my head, tears burning my eyes. I don’t know. I don’t remember. But the growl in my head is screaming now, and my scar feels like it’s splitting me open. I want to tell him, to beg him to believe me, but my voice won’t come.

“She can’t talk, Jasper,” Lila says, her voice sharp. “And even if she could, what’s she supposed to say? She was covered in blood when you found her, but she’s not the one ripping people apart. You know that.”

“Do I?” Jasper snaps, but there’s no venom in it, just exhaustion. He runs a hand through his hair, his eyes meeting mine. “I want to believe you, Elara. I do. But that scar… it’s not just a mark. It’s something else. And my dad’s not gonna stop until he figures out what.”

I step toward him, my hand reaching out, but he flinches, just enough to make my heart twist. He’s scared of me. The boy who gave me bread, who stood up to his father, is scared of me.

“Jasper!” a voice shouts from the trees, harsh and commanding. Torin. My blood runs cold, and Lila grabs my arm, pulling me back.

“We have to go,” she whispers. “Now.”

But Jasper doesn’t move. His eyes are on me, torn, like he’s trying to decide something. “Elara,” he says, his voice breaking. “Run. I’ll hold them off. But you have to go.”

I shake my head, my eyes pleading. I don’t want to leave him. Not like this. But Lila’s dragging me away, her grip like iron, and Jasper turns toward the sound of his father’s voice, his shoulders squaring like he’s going into battle.

We run, the forest blurring around us, branches snagging at my clothes. The growl in my head is a roar now, and my scar burns so fiercely I’m sure it’s glowing through my sleeve. Lila’s panting, her dagger clutched tight, and I can hear the pack behind us, howls, footsteps, the snap of jaws.

“Keep going!” Lila says, her voice ragged. “There’s a river up ahead. If we can cross it, they’ll lose our scent.”

I nod, but my legs are burning, and the growl is so loud I can barely think. It’s not just in my head anymore, it’s in the air, all around us, like the forest itself is alive with it. My scar pulses, and I stumble, catching myself against a tree. The bark feels warm under my hands, like it’s humming, and for a moment, I see her again, the woman with my face, her silver eyes blazing, her hands raised as the earth trembles.

“Elara!” Lila’s voice snaps me back, but it’s too late. The trees ahead part, and something steps into the moonlight not a wolf, not a human, but something else. Its eyes are silver, like the woman in my vision, and its form shifts, flickering between wolf and shadow. The growl is coming from it, deep and hungry, and my scar burns so hot I cry out, my voice finally breaking free in a raw, desperate scream.

Lila spins, her dagger raised, but the thing doesn’t move. It’s watching me, its eyes locked on my scar, and I feel it a pull, like it knows me, like it’s been waiting for me all along.

“Elara,” it whispers, its voice echoing in my head, and the world tilts, darkness creeping in as much as I tried to repel it.