Six
1057 Words
The rain had stopped hours ago, but the damp clung stubbornly to the air.
A pale, washed-out sun pushed tentative light through the canopy, illuminating the beads of water that still clung to every leaf. They had been walking since dawn.
Nali moved ahead with his usual, effortless stride, silent as a shadow. Selena followed a few paces behind, every step careful on the wet earth. The forest was quiet and though she told herself it was just the aftermath of the storm, her nerves stayed drawn tight. Her thoughts kept slipping back to the cave.
To the heat that had spread through her veins when his mouth had been on her skin. To the way she felt both dizzy and vividly alive at the same time. To the way she hadn’t pulled away. She hated that memory almost as much as she couldn’t stop replaying it.
When Nali stopped abruptly, she almost collided with him. “Stay here,” he said, scanning the undergrowth ahead.
“What is it?”
“Tracks. Fresh ones.”
He didn’t elaborate, just moved off the trail and into the trees, vanishing between the trunks with the same soundless grace as always.
She stayed where she was for maybe thirty seconds before curiosity gnawed its way through her good sense.
Shifting the strap of her pack higher on her shoulder, she took a half-step toward the place he’d disappeared then stopped when she felt the sting. A sharp, needling heat, right above her collarbone.
Her hand went instinctively to the spot. It wasn’t the puncture marks from before, those had already faded to faint, pale crescents. This was something else. Warmer.
Pulling her jacket aside, she brushed her fingers over the skin and felt the raised edge of something unfamiliar. Her stomach tightened. She fumbled with the zipper of her jacket, then tugged the collar of her shirt lower. The morning light caught on it immediately. A mark she had never seen before.
It was small, no larger than a coin, and blood-red against her skin. The shape was irregular, almost like it had been burned into her rather than drawn or bruised. It pulsed faintly, as if her own heartbeat were echoing through it.
Her fingers hovered over it, afraid to touch. The moment she did, a faint warmth spread out from the mark, creeping up her throat and down into her chest. She gasped and jerked her hand back.
“What…” she whispered to herself. Branches shifted behind her. She turned sharply.
Nali emerged from the trees, his expression unreadable. His eyes flicked over her quickly, checking, assessing before settling on her face. “Something's wrong?” he asked.
Her throat felt dry. “What is this?” She pulled her collar aside, exposing the mark.
For the first time since she’d met him, he hesitated. Not the calculated stillness he used before a kill. Not the poised patience of a hunter waiting for prey to make a mistake. This was different. A pause with weight in it.
His eyes moved to the mark, and something in his gaze sharpened. “Cover it,” he said.
She blinked. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s not something you need to worry about right now.”
Her frustration flared hot and fast. “You put it there, didn’t you?” He didn’t deny it. That silence was all the confirmation she needed. She took a step toward him, ignoring the part of her brain screaming at her to keep her distance. “Is it because of what happened last night?”
His jaw tightened. “It’s because I fed from you twice.”
“That’s it? Just twice, and suddenly I have this?” She gestured sharply at the mark, heat rising in her voice. “It feels like it’s alive.”
“It is,” he said, softly.
She stared at him. “What the hell does that mean?”
Nali’s gaze held hers for a long moment before he looked away, scanning the forest again like the conversation was already over.
“It means,” he said slowly, “whether you like it or not, you’re connected to me now.”
The words landed like a stone in her gut. She stepped back. “Connected how?”
He didn’t look at her. “You’ll find out.”
“That’s not good enough, Nali!” Her voice rose despite herself. “I have a right to know what’s happening to me.”
His head turned just slightly, enough that she could see the edge of his profile. His voice, when it came, was quiet. “Knowing won’t change it.”
Before she could argue again, he started walking, leaving her standing there with the mark still throbbing faintly beneath her collar.
They didn’t speak for the rest of the morning. But she could feel him glancing back at her more often than usual. And every time her fingers drifted toward the mark, she caught the faintest flicker in his eyes, something between wariness and possession. She didn’t know which unnerved her more.
By midday, the mark’s warmth had settled into a low hum, constant and insistent. She could feel it even without touching it, like an invisible thread pulling taut between them every time he moved ahead.
She told herself it was just her imagination. But when he stopped to check the wind, she felt it. An almost imperceptible pull like she knew exactly where he was without seeing him. Like part of her was tuned to him now.
That night, as they made camp in a shallow ravine, she caught him watching her again while she pretended to sort through her pack.
She met his gaze. “Is it permanent?”
For a heartbeat, he didn’t answer. Then... “Yes.”
She looked away, her stomach knotting. “And there’s no way to get rid of it?”
Another pause. “Not without killing one of us.”
She swallowed hard. When she looked up again, he was still watching her, his expression is calm but his eyes… his eyes were darker than the night around them.
She turned away first. The mark pulsed once more beneath her collar, and this time, she didn’t need to touch it to feel the heat.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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