Aria’s POV
The doors opened before I could reach them.
Marcus stepped in first, eyes sweeping the hall, landing on me, on the blood on my lip, on the Alpha Heir’s hand still locked around mine. Behind him came Lena, Lyra’s old guard, and at least twenty pack members I’d fought beside in the ruins.
They’d heard everything.
“Pack,” the Alpha Heir said, voice flat. “Out.”
No one moved.
Marcus’s gaze dropped to my wrist. The gold mark was still glowing faint, visible even in the dim light. He saw it. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away.
“Luna,” he said finally. The word felt heavy in the room. “What was that?”
I pulled my hand from the Alpha Heir’s. My legs were shaking, but I made myself stand straight.
“Nightfang blood,” I said. “Magic. The same thing the King used.”
