Chapter 25: The Blood Mark
1823 Words
Dahlia's POV
Dark Moon Pack ritual cave
The cave smelled like smoke, old magic, and fear.
Not mixed with mine alone.
Everyone’s.
I felt it in the way the air pressed heavy against my lungs, in the way whispers died the moment I stepped forward. The ritual cave had always been spoken of in hushed tones, where truths were dragged into the light whether you were ready for them or not.
I wasn’t ready.
My feet slowed as we entered, my pulse thudding so loudly I was sure everyone could hear it. Torches lined the stone walls, their flames flickering unevenly, as if even fire hesitated here.
The healer stood at the centre of the cave, her back straight, and her expression grave. She didn’t look at me with cruelty or kindness, only certainty.
“This cannot be ignored any longer,” she said, her voice echoing softly. “The bond reacted. The wolf stirred. A test must be performed.”
I swallowed hard.
Test.
The word wrapped around my ribs and squeezed.
Dante stood beside me, rigid, his jaw tight. I could feel his tension like heat rolling off him, sharp and contained. He had not said a word since we were summoned, but his silence was louder than anything he could have spoken.
“A bonding test?” he asked finally, his voice low, and dangerous.
“Yes,” the healer replied calmly. “A true one. Not based on instinct, not based on proximity, but truth.”
My stomach twisted violently.
I shook my head before I even realised I was doing it. “I don’t think that is a good idea.”
No one laughed.
No one dismissed me.
The murmurs that rippled through the gathered pack were not mocking, they were uneasy, superstitious, and afraid.
Dante’s gaze flicked to me. “Why?”
The question was sharp, but underneath it was something else.
Fear.
Not for himself, but for what this might uncover.
“I just…” My voice faltered. I clenched my hands together, my fingers trembling. “Things don’t go right when I am involved.”
Silence fell.
The healer stepped closer, her eyes softening, not enough to comfort, but enough to acknowledge my dread. “Child, the truth does not bend around fear. It only waits.”
I don't know if that was supposed to console me but it didn’t help.
Dante inhaled slowly, then exhaled through clenched teeth. “If we do this,” he said, eyes fixed on the healer, “it ends speculation. No theatrics.”
“There will be no theatrics,” she agreed. “Only revelation.”
My heart began to race.
I wanted to run.
But there was nowhere to go.
The healer gestured to the stone altar at the center of the cave. “Stand there. Both of you.”
My legs felt heavy as I moved. Each step felt like a countdown. I climbed onto the smooth stone surface, the chill seeping through the thin fabric of my clothes.
Dante joined me moments later. Close enough that I could feel the heat of him, the restrained power vibrating just beneath his skin.
The healer began to chant softly, words older than any pack, any territory. The sound made my scalp prickle, and my chest tighten.
“Bare your marks,” she instructed.
My breath caught.
Marks.
I hesitated.
Dante noticed instantly. His head turned sharply toward me. “Dahlia.”
“I…” My throat closed. My fingers trembled as they hovered near my collar. “I have never… no one’s ever seen…”
His voice dropped, firm but not unkind. “You are safe.”
The word felt fragile.
But I nodded.
With shaking hands, I pulled the fabric aside, exposing my neck.
The cave inhaled as one.
I didn’t need to look to know why.
Gasps rippled outward, sharp and stunned.
“What in the Moon…”
“That’s impossible...”
“There are two…”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
I didn’t need to see it to feel it.
One mark burned warm against my skin, bright and alive, humming with awareness. It pulsed in time with my heartbeat, steady and undeniable.
The other…
The other was faint.
Scarred.
Like something that had once been whole and had been torn away.
A ghost of a bond.
My chest constricted painfully.
The healer stepped closer, her composure finally cracking. Her breath hitched as she reached out, stopping just short of touching my skin.
“One mark glows,” she whispered. “And the other…”
Her voice trailed off.
Dante had not moved.
I felt it before I saw it, the shift in him, sudden and violent, like a predator scenting blood. His breathing grew heavier, and uneven.
Slowly, he turned toward me.
His eyes locked onto my neck.
The moment stretched.
Then…
A low, feral sound tore from his chest.
Not a growl, but a snarl.
The cave fell into stunned silence.
“Two,” someone whispered in horror.
“That… that is an omen,” another murmured. “Two mates has never meant…”
“Silence!” the healer snapped.
But the damage was done.
Fear spread like wildfire.
I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly aware of how exposed and how small I was.
I had not known.
I swear I had not known.
Tears burned behind my eyes, threatening to spill as memories surged forward unbidden.
Silver stone.
A full moon.
A voice cold as judgment.
I reject her.
My breath hitched painfully.
Dante’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and dangerous enough to make everyone flinch.
“Who,” he demanded, each word vibrating with barely contained fury, “was the first?”
The question struck me like a physical blow.
I staggered back a step, heart slamming wildly against my ribs.
“I didn’t mean for this,” I whispered, though no one had accused me aloud. “I had no idea it could even happen.”
Dante turned fully toward me now, his presence overwhelming, his wolf pressing forward hard enough that my knees nearly buckled.
“Answer me,” he said, voice low and lethal. “Who claimed you first?”
The cave seemed to close in.
I shook my head, tears spilling freely now. “I didn’t ask for it.”
His eyes flashed. “That… was not the question.”
The pack watched in horrified fascination. Whispers buzzed like insects beneath my skin.
Cursed girl.
Two bonds.
Disaster.
I tasted bile.
My chest felt like it was caving in, every breath shallow and painful.
“I was born into Moon Stone,” I said finally, the words trembling as they fell. “I was wolfless. I was nothing.”
Dante stiffened.
“I didn’t even know what a true bond felt like,” I continued, my voice cracking. “When it happened, I thought… I thought maybe the Moon had finally seen me.”
The faint mark burned dully now, aching like an old wound reopened.
“He rejected me,” I whispered. “In front of everyone.”
The cave erupted.
Moon Stone.
Rejection.
The implications hit like a tidal wave.
Dante went very still.
Dangerously so.
The healer’s face paled. “A rejected bond does not simply fade,” she said slowly. “It scars. It leaves echoes.”
I pressed a trembling hand to my neck. “I didn’t know it would still be there.”
Dante’s gaze darkened, fury and something far more complex swirling violently beneath the surface.
“A rejected mate,” he said, each word heavy with venom. “Marked you. Then discarded you.”
I flinched at the way he said it.
Discarded.
As if I had been trash.
As if that night had not already destroyed me.
“I survived it,” I said softly. “Barely.”
Silence fell again, thick and suffocating.
The healer bowed her head slightly. “Two marks do not mean two futures,” she said. “But they do mean conflict, pain, and choice.”
Choice.
The word echoed mockingly.
I had never been given one.
Dante’s gaze flicked back to my glowing mark, then to my face. His voice was quieter when he spoke again, but no less intense.
“You felt the bond awaken,” he said. “You trained, and you reacted. Your wolf stirred.”
I nodded weakly. “I don’t understand it.”
His jaw clenched. “Neither do I.”
The pack murmured again, fear thick in the air.
“An omen,” someone whispered. “Two mates always ends in blood.”
My stomach twisted violently.
I took a step back, shaking my head. “I don’t want to bring ruin to your pack.”
Dante’s head snapped toward me.
“You don’t get to decide that alone,” he said sharply.
“I never wanted this!” I cried, emotion finally breaking free. “I just wanted to exist without hurting anyone.”
My voice echoed painfully in the cave.
For a moment, Dante looked like he might say something harsh.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he turned on the healer.
“Is it possible,” he demanded, “that the first bond is dead?”
The healer hesitated. “A bond that was rejected is never truly dead. It is… dormant. Scarred. But it remains part of her.”
My heart sank.
Dante’s fists clenched at his sides.
“So I am bound to a woman,” he said slowly, “who already bears another Alpha’s mark.”
The way he said it felt like a verdict.
I shrank inward, shame washing over me in crushing waves.
“I didn’t cheat fate,” I whispered. “Fate just… broke me twice.”
Something flickered in his eyes at that.
It looked like it was pain, understanding, and anger, at someone who wasn’t me.
The healer cleared her throat. “The ritual is complete,” she said. “But this knowledge will change things.”
Dante didn’t look away from me.
“It already has.”
The torches flared suddenly, magic dissipating in sharp waves that left me dizzy and hollow.
As the pack began to disperse, each one whispering, staring, and judging, I remained frozen on the stone altar, my legs trembling beneath me.
Two marks.
Two nightmares.
One body that had never asked for either.
Dante stepped closer once more, his presence looming.
His voice dropped to a low snarl meant only for me, and the truth between us.
“Whoever marked you first,” he said, “will answer for it.”
I met his gaze through tears, fear and something else tangling painfully in my chest.
I was not cursed.
But I was claimed.
Not once but twice.
And whatever fate had planned for me next, I knew one thing with terrifying certainty…
Nothing would ever be simple again.
- Writer
