CHAPTER 2: Marked By Pain
1095 Words
Selene’s body ached with every step, her muscles screaming as she stumbled through the dense forest. The sting of rejection clung to her skin like ice, a cruel, lingering echo of the bond that had once warmed her soul.
Killian had cast her aside, his golden eyes void of the affection she once found there. “You mean nothing to me”. The words were sharp, unforgiving, final. They carved through her like a blade, gutting not just her heart, but her very identity.
Now she ran, not from Killian, not from the pack but from the hollow silence that followed. Her breath came in shallow gasps, chest heaving, lungs burning with the effort. The night air bit at her skin. Still, she didn’t stop.
She didn’t even know where she was going. The forest stretched endlessly, the trees rising around her like judgmental gods. Gnarled branches clawed at her arms and legs, leaving thin red lines that burned in the cold air. Her tears had dried somewhere between her first stumble and her third. But the ache inside hadn’t dulled. If anything, it had deepened.
She paused, leaning against a tree to catch her breath. Her knees trembled beneath her, but she stayed upright. She wouldn’t fall, not anymore. She was done falling, done begging.
She thought of Raven’s smug smirk, the way Killian didn’t even flinch when he told her to leave. That look in his eyes—empty, indifferent. The memory made her stomach twist.
A sharp rustle behind her snapped her from her daze.
Selene straightened, alert, every sense on edge. Her wolf stirred weakly beneath her skin. Injured, grieving but present.
“Who’s there?” she called into the shadows, her voice harder than she felt.
No reply.
Then—movement.
A figure emerged, tall and broad-shouldered, wrapped in shadow as though the night bent to shield him. He moved with a strange grace, silent and certain. Moonlight flirted with the edges of his form but refused to reveal him fully.
Selene didn’t breathe.
He wasn’t a rogue—not with that stance. And he wasn’t a pack wolf either.
“Who are you?” she demanded again, planting her feet.
The man c****d his head. “You’re far from home, little wolf,” he murmured. His voice was smooth, familiar, deep, a slow drawl that wrapped around her name like silk soaked in sin.
She figured it was the same stranger.
She narrowed her eyes. “That’s not your concern.”
He stepped closer. “Alone, wounded, rejected.” He said the words softly, like he was naming scars she hadn’t yet admitted she bore.
“A dangerous position to be in,” he said.
Her heart jumped. He knew.
Somehow, impossibly, how did he know?
"He's so precise," she wondered.
“Leave me alone,” she snapped.
The man chuckled, not cruelly, but like her reaction amused him. There was no threat in his posture—and yet every fiber of her being screamed that he was dangerous.
“You shouldn’t make demands when you’re in no position to do so,” he said with a faint smile.
Fear stirred in her chest, but her pride was louder. She straightened her spine, chin tilting upward.
“Then why are you here?” she asked, defiantly.
He paused, then took another step closer. Something about his demeanor shifted. Less teasing now. More... solemn.
“Tell me, Selene,” he said, voice lower now. “If I offered you a way to erase your pain... would you take it?”
She blinked. “What?”
“Would you shed the pieces of yourself that bleed for someone who never deserved you?”
Selene stared at him. His eyes—dark and sharp, impossibly deep. There was something familiar in the way he watched her, like he saw past her bruises, past her rage, into the place that even she avoided.
“You were born to be more than an afterthought,” he continued. “More than someone’s discarded mistake.”
A flicker of something ancient flared behind his words. Her throat tightened.
“Who are you?” she asked again, but this time, there was no bite in it. Only longing.
He studied her for a beat before replying.
“Someone who sees your worth.”
The words struck like lightning.
Selene didn’t speak. She didn’t move. For the first time in days, she didn’t feel broken. She just felt... seen.
Then he turned and walked back into the trees. No rustle, no sound. As if the forest parted for him.
She stood there long after he disappeared.
Eventually, her legs carried her forward again. She didn’t know how long she had walked. Minutes? Hours? The forest blurred together, dreamlike and endless.
Finally, she collapsed in a clearing. The grass was soft. The moon stared down with indifference. Her skin was scraped. Her dress torn. Her soul cracked.
She looked up at the stars.
Luna, she thought bitterly. Is this the destiny you chose for me?
No pack, no mate, no future.
But even as the thought settled, a colder wind swept through the trees. And with it, a scent.
Familiar.
Her body tensed.
The scent was strong, she could recognize it. Her pulse skyrocketed.
He’s here.
Her heart thundered. She pushed herself upright, ignoring the sting in her limbs. She stumbled forward, faster, deeper into the woods.
But the scent grew stronger.
Not Killian but him.
The stranger.
Before she could react, a hand was wrapped around her wrist. Firm. Cold.
She spun with a gasp.
No smirk this time. No teasing tone. Only eyes that burned like shadowed fire.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone, Selene,” he murmured.
His grip wasn’t painful, but it was possessive. Like he was claiming something.
She stared at him, breathless. Frozen.
“I don’t need your protection,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
His eyes softened—just slightly. “Maybe not. But I’m not here to protect you.”
“Then what do you want?” she asked.
There was a beat of silence, and then he leaned in, his voice a dark promise. “To show you what power feels like.”
Selene’s breath caught. Her world tilted.
He released her wrist gently, and stepped back into the darkness, vanishing like smoke.
And this time, Selene didn’t feel fear.
She felt the stirrings of something fierce.
Something new.
Something dangerous.
For the first time in her life, Selene wasn’t just running from something.
She was running toward
- Writer
