The Marked Luna

Chapter One: The Mark

Serena’s POV

The pain came like fire.

It yanked me out of sleep with a scream lodged in my throat. My body arched off the mattress as though lightning had cracked through my veins. My throat burned even more. I clutched my wrist. My skin rippled with heat. I looked down and froze, the mark was beginning to rise.

A rose shape mark beneath the pale underside of my arm, glowing red as though blood itself had been set alight. It pulsed steadily, as if it had a heartbeat of its own.

“No…” My gasp broke into a sob. “No, no, no.”

I tumbled from the bed, crashing onto the wooden floor, scattering glass and books in my fall. Sweat slicked my back; my breath was ragged. I scrambled until the wall pressed cold against my spine.

Every child in my park knew the stories. We whispered them in the dark, half warning, half myth. The day the mark appeared was the day your cursed mate came. Fated. Unstoppable. I never believed it would be me.

Footsteps thundered down the hall my mom’s, I presumed. She must have heard things breaking.

“Serena!” Mom burst in, braid swinging. Her eyes went first to the mark on my wrist; they widened in fear. Then the color drained from her face.

“Oh, child—no, no, Serena, not yet,” Mom whispered as she kneeled beside me. She reached out as if to cradle me, then paused, afraid to touch my searing skin. Her eyes welled with tears.

“Mom, what is happening to me? What is this?” My voice shook.

Her lips trembled. “Your mother, your real mother warned me this day might come. I prayed it never would.”

I blinked through the haze of pain and looked at Mom this time. She knew about the mark? Before I could question her, the night split with the low growl of an engine. Too smooth, too powerful for our muddy roads. My blood went cold. I pushed past her and the curtain to the yard.

A black SUV glided into view; three others followed suit, sleek and silent. The kind that looked more suited to a billionaire’s city parade than the muddy edge of werewolf territory. Tinted windows hid the occupants. My stomach twisted even before the door opened. Men in dark suits and tactical gear spilled out, moving with the precision of soldiers. This looked more like an arrest than an arrival. The men scanned the clearing with cold efficiency, as if they owned it.

My eyes were drawn to the middle vehicle as it came to a smooth stop. A man dressed all in black tall, broad-shouldered, with tailored trousers and a dark wool coat that belonged in a boardroom, not on a werewolf's soil, stepped out. His eyes were the first thing I saw as he removed his sunglasses: Icy blue with a blood-red ring locked unto me.

Everything about him screamed dominance.

“Alpha Ronan,” my mother whispered, fear evident in her voice.

I watched him, intrigued; my eyes never left him. He tilted his head, watching me with the patience of a predator. Then he spoke, voice deep and rough, the sound of stone grinding against stone.

“You’re mine.”

The mark on my wrist flared, and my chest lurched toward him as if my body recognized something I did not. My heart rebelled.

“I am yours?” My words spat out, sharp with fury. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

Unmoved, he stepped closer. “You bear the mark. And the mark does not lie.”

My soul leaned toward him, but my heart recoiled. I clenched my fists. “I don’t even know you.”

His eyes darkened. “But I know you. The bond is written in blood. The mark confirms it, and you are coming with me.”

I backed away, refusing to look weak. “You can’t make me go.”

He raised one hand. My mother screamed.

“Enough,” he barked. The force of his voice cracked through me like a whip. “I won’t harm her. But she must come. The curse has begun.”

My blood iced. “What curse, Mom?” I turned toward her. “What’s he talking about?”

“Serena, don’t” Mom’s voice broke into sobs.

“Tell me!” I demanded, spinning on her.

She looked away.

From the corner of my eye I saw Ronan walk closer and stand in front of me. His presence filled the space, heavy and undeniable. He reached for my wrist not forcefully, but gently, almost reverent. His fingers were cool against the heat of the mark as he caressed my skin; his touch was calming. To my horror, the pain eased under his hand. I wanted to snatch my hand back, but I didn’t. Rather, I responded to it. I was surprised by his actions and even more surprised by my reaction to him. It disgusted me.

Dizziness washed over me, blackness tugging at the edges of my vision. The last thing I remembered was Ronan’s voice, low against my hair as he lifted me in his arms.

“I will protect you. Even if it kills me.”

I woke up in silk sheets that weren’t mine.

Tall windows lined the walls; a hearth burned low, and the air carried the scent of cold pine and something metallic.

I sat up too fast; my head pounded. The mark still glowed, but the pain had dulled. Panic clawed up my chest. I wasn’t home. This wasn’t my room. Where was Mom? Where was I?

My gaze snapped to the couch. Ronan sat there, silent, storm-gray eyes fixed on me. His name made my forgotten anger take root in my heart. I rose to my feet instantly, my body tensed. “Where am I?” My voice shook with fury.

“Crimson Claw territory,” he said. “My home.”

“You kidnapped me.”

His expression didn’t shift. “I saved you.”

“Saved me from what, exactly?” My laugh was sharp, bitter. “You dragged me here.” Then I remembered how dizzy I’d felt before he carried me. Did he drug me? My eyes snapped back to him. “You bastard—you drugged me and kidnapped me.”

“From what comes next,” he answered simply.

“What the hell are you talking about? How dare you drug me?”

He studied me, then exhaled. “You were born under a blood moon. That makes you more than just my mate.”

I shook my head, backing away. “That’s a bloody lie. I am no one, and I don’t want any of this. I didn’t ask for you. I didn’t ask for this mark.”

His voice softened. “You think I asked for it?”

Silence stretched, heavy as stone.

“I want to go back to my mother,” I said finally.

His mouth curved in a bitter sneer. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“You mean you won’t let me.”

“Because if you return to her now, you’ll die.”

The words struck like a blow. “What?”

“The mark isn’t only a bond, Serena,” Ronan said. “It’s a beacon. Wolves who crave its power will hunt you. They will tear you apart for what runs in your blood.”

My throat closed; panic scraped raw. He had to be lying; this was manipulation. It had to be.

Then his voice dropped. “And if the curse isn’t broken before the next blood moon… I die.”

I flinched. “What?”

“It’s written in prophecy,” he said quietly. “The one marked by the moon will be the death of her mate. I don’t believe it. But others will. My people will.”

I could barely breathe. “This is insane.”

My head spun. The information was too much for me to process. “This is crazy.”

The flames in the hearth crackled. In that silence, I knew my life had changed forever. Not just because of the mark. His eyes didn’t waver from mine, and what I saw in Ronan’s gaze wasn’t desire, it was sorrow. Like a man who already knew how the story would end, and I wasn’t ready for the ending.