Chapter Nine.
1661 Words
Layla didn’t remember getting back to her apartment.
One moment she was in the alley, her heart slamming against her ribs as Kane’s inhuman form burned into her mind—and the next, she was standing in the middle of her room, staring at her trembling hands.
They wouldn’t stop shaking.
The image replayed over and over again.
Bones shifting. Eyes glowing. Power radiating off him like heat from a wildfire.
Not human.
Not even close.
A sharp knock at the door made her flinch.
“Layla? It’s me!”
Mia.
Layla exhaled shakily and forced herself to move. Each step felt disconnected, like her body was lagging behind her thoughts. She opened the door just enough to peek through.
Mia’s face fell instantly. “Oh my God… what happened to you?”
“I’m fine,” Layla lied.
“You look like you just saw a ghost.”
Not a ghost.
Something worse.
Layla swallowed. “I just… got lost. Took a wrong turn.”
Mia didn’t look convinced, but she stepped inside anyway, kicking the door shut behind her. “You disappeared for almost an hour. I was about to call the police.”
Layla forced a weak smile. “Sorry.”
Mia crossed her arms. “You don’t just ‘sorry’ your way out of this. Something happened.”
Layla hesitated.
Should she tell her?
No. Because how do you explain a man turning into something out of a nightmare… and the fact that part of you wasn’t just terrified—but drawn to it?
“I think someone followed me,” she said instead.
That part, at least, was true.
Mia’s expression hardened. “Okay, that’s not fine. Did you see who it was?”
Layla shook her head. “No. But…” She paused, her fingers unconsciously drifting to her wrist.
The skin there tingled.
Mia noticed immediately. “What is that?”
Layla frowned. “What?”
“Your wrist.”
A cold sensation slid down Layla’s spine.
Slowly, she turned her arm over.
And froze.
There, just beneath the surface of her skin, was a mark.
Faint.
Dark.
Unmistakably real.
It looked like ink—but it wasn’t. It pulsed softly, as if alive, forming an intricate symbol she didn’t recognize. Curved lines twisted around each other, sharp edges breaking through the pattern like claws.
“What the hell…” Mia whispered.
“I—I didn’t have this before.”
Mia grabbed her wrist, inspecting it closely. “Did someone do this to you? At the club?”
“No!” Layla pulled back instinctively. “I mean… I don’t think so.”
But the moment the words left her mouth, doubt crept in.
Kane.
The way he had looked at her.
The way his presence had felt like it was wrapping around her, pulling her in.
Her pulse spiked.
“Layla,” Mia said slowly, “you need to get that checked. That’s not normal.”
“I know.”
But something deep inside her whispered otherwise.
It didn’t feel like something foreign.
It felt… like it belonged.
“I’m just going to rest,” Layla said, trying to steady her voice. “I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”
Mia hesitated. “Are you sure you’re okay being alone?”
No.
“Yes.”
Mia studied her for a long moment before sighing. “Fine. But I’m calling you first thing in the morning. And if that thing gets any weirder, we’re going to a doctor. No arguments.”
Layla nodded.
After a few more reluctant glances, Mia finally left.
The door clicked shut.
Silence filled the apartment.
And then—
Layla exhaled.
Her legs gave out, and she sank onto the edge of her bed, staring at the mark on her wrist.
It pulsed again.
Stronger this time.
A sudden wave of dizziness hit her.
“Okay… not good.”
She stood quickly, pacing the room, trying to shake off the strange sensation crawling under her skin. But the more she moved, the worse it got.
Her chest tightened.
Her breathing became shallow.
Images flickered behind her eyes—
Not memories.
Something else.
Dark forests.
Moonlight bleeding through twisted branches.
The sound of distant howls.
Layla gasped, clutching her head. “Stop…”
The images intensified.
A symbol carved into stone.
The same symbol.
Her symbol.
And then—
A voice.
Low.
Ancient.
Unfamiliar.
“She has awakened.”
Layla’s eyes snapped open.
The room was still.
Empty.
But her heart pounded like she wasn’t alone.
“No,” she whispered, backing toward the wall. “No, no, no…”
She grabbed her phone with shaking hands.
There was only one person who might know what was happening.
She hated that it was him.
The call rang once.
Twice.
Then—
“Layla.”
His voice.
Calm. Controlled.
Like he hadn’t just shattered her entire understanding of reality.
“You need to explain what the hell you are,” she said, her voice breaking despite her effort to sound strong.
Silence stretched on the other end.
Then, quietly, “Where are you?”
“In my apartment.”
A pause.
“You shouldn’t be alone.”
Anger flared through her fear. “You don’t get to say that after what I saw!”
Another pause.
This one heavier.
“What you saw,” Kane said slowly, “is exactly why you’re not safe.”
Layla’s grip tightened on the phone. “Then explain it to me.”
“I can’t. Not over the phone.”
“Convenient.”
“Layla.”
Her name on his lips sent an unwanted shiver through her.
“There are things moving tonight,” he continued. “Things that will come for you if they realize what you are.”
Her stomach dropped. “What I am?”
Kane didn’t answer.
“Tell me!” she demanded.
Instead, he said, “Lock your doors. Stay inside. I’m coming to you.”
The line went dead.
Layla stared at her phone.
“No, no—don’t do that,” she muttered, immediately trying to call him back.
Straight to voicemail.
“Of course.”
Frustration burned through her fear.
He wasn’t answering her questions.
He wasn’t telling her anything.
And yet somehow, he expected her to just trust him?
Her gaze drifted back to her wrist.
The mark glowed faintly.
Mocking her.
Fine.
If he wouldn’t give her answers—
She’d find them herself.
—
The campus library was nearly empty at this hour.
Perfect.
Layla moved quickly through the aisles, her hoodie pulled low over her head, as if that could somehow shield her from everything that had changed tonight.
Her heart hadn’t stopped racing since she left the apartment.
Every shadow felt wrong.
Every sound too sharp.
Like the world itself had shifted—and she was only just beginning to see it.
She headed straight for the restricted archives.
Old texts.
Folklore.
Myths.
Anything that might explain what was happening to her.
The mark on her wrist tingled again as she ran her fingers along the spines of ancient books.
“Come on…” she whispered.
Then—
She froze.
Her eyes locked onto a book wedged between two larger volumes.
It looked older than the rest.
Worn.
Dark.
Almost… waiting.
Slowly, she pulled it free.
A strange sensation washed over her the moment her skin touched the cover.
Like recognition.
Her breath hitched.
“Okay… that’s not creepy at all.”
She carried it to a nearby table and opened it carefully.
Dust stirred in the air.
The pages were filled with symbols.
Dozens of them.
All intricate.
All unfamiliar.
Except—
Her heart stopped.
“No way…”
There it was.
The same mark.
Exact.
Perfectly drawn in black ink.
Her mark.
Her fingers trembled as she traced it on the page.
Beneath it, there was text.
Old.
Faded.
But readable.
She leaned closer, her pulse roaring in her ears as she began to read.
“A vessel… bound by blood… marked by the Alpha…”
Her breath caught.
“No…”
She kept reading.
“The one who carries the sigil shall awaken the ancient bond… and with it… the fall or rebirth of the Alpha line.”
Layla’s stomach twisted violently.
“This isn’t real,” she whispered.
But it was.
It had to be.
Because the mark on her wrist was now burning.
Hot.
Alive.
She gasped, clutching it as the pain spiked—
And then—
The lights in the library flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then went out completely.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Layla froze.
Her breathing echoed too loudly in the silence.
Then—
A sound.
Soft.
Deliberate.
Footsteps.
Not hers.
Her blood ran cold.
She wasn’t alone.
A voice emerged from the darkness.
Low.
Amused.
“And here I thought we’d have to keep searching.”
Layla’s heart slammed against her ribs.
Slowly—
Too slowly—
A figure stepped into the faint glow of emergency lighting.
Unfamiliar.
Dangerous.
Eyes fixed directly on her.
On her wrist.
On the mark.
A smile spread across his face.
“We finally found you.”
Layla stumbled back, her pulse roaring in her ears.
“Who are you?” she demanded, though her voice barely held steady.
The man tilted his head, studying her like she was something rare.
Something valuable.
“Someone who knows exactly what you are.”
Her stomach dropped.
“And unlike the Alpha…” he continued softly, stepping closer, “I’m not here to protect you.”
The air shifted.
Heavy.
Predatory.
Layla’s instincts screamed.
Run.
But before she could move—
He said the one thing that made her blood turn to ice.
“He lied to you, didn’t he?”
Her breath caught.
The man’s smile widened.
“About your parents.”
Everything inside her froze.
And in that moment—
Layla realized the truth wasn’t just dangerous.
It was coming for her.
- Writer
