CHAPTER 7:The Marking Game
1830 Words
Luna didn’t ask where they were going.
She just followed Knox.
Which, in itself, was a sign of the apocalypse.
His stride was longer than hers, but he moved at a pace that matched her gait exactly—deliberate, silent, not once looking back. The night around them was too quiet. No rustle of squirrels. No distant howl of wild wolves. Just trees, moonlight, and tension so thick she could chew it.
Behind her, Mira and Saffy trailed like a bickering hurricane and a mystical fog bank.
“Why are we following the spooky howl?” Saffy whispered. “Why don’t we just throw muffins at it and run?”
“Because,” Mira whispered back, “the entity is tracking her bond. It won’t stop until it finds her. Or rips her apart.”
“...Comforting.”
Luna ignored them.
She should’ve run the other way. Should’ve told Knox to handle it. Should’ve doubled back to her cabin, shoved her stuff in a bag, and vanished before whatever was out there made her its next chew toy.
But then she looked at Knox’s back.
Wide shoulders. Calm walk. That stupid, infuriating steadiness that made her want to scream and—possibly—kiss him again.
She cursed under her breath.
“You okay?” Knox asked quietly, without turning.
“No,” Luna muttered. “I’m following you into the woods because something wants to eat my soul. I’m peachy.”
Knox made a soft sound that might’ve been amusement. Or a growl. With him, it was hard to tell.
“We’re almost there.”
“Where exactly is there?”
He didn’t answer. Just stepped into a clearing surrounded by thick pines. The trees arched toward each other like ribs closing in. In the center, a stone circle glowed faintly under the moonlight.
“Oh great,” Saffy said. “A cursed ritual pit. Totally normal Tuesday.”
Knox finally turned.
“This is old ground,” he said. “Protected. The wards here block spiritual interference. If something is tracking the bond, it won’t get through this perimeter.”
Luna crossed her arms. “So, what, we sit inside the magic circle and play truth or dare until the monster gives up?”
Knox’s gaze flicked to hers. “You’re not bait, Luna.”
“Funny. I feel very bait-ish.”
He took a step closer. “You’re not.”
And there it was again—that quiet conviction. Like she could punch him and he’d still offer her his jacket. Like he knew her better than she did, and was just waiting for her to catch up.
Mira interrupted by smudging sage in a very dramatic spiral. “The circle will hold for now. But the entity isn’t far. I can feel its breath in the wind.”
“Okay, that’s creepy,” Saffy muttered, hugging herself.
Knox gestured to the stone. “Sit. Rest.”
Luna looked at the stone like it might sprout teeth.
“Fine. But only because my emotional breakdown is reaching phase five, and I want to cry in a protective warded bubble.”
She sat, pulling her knees to her chest.
Knox stayed standing, arms folded, eyes scanning the woods like a sentry with PTSD and bad sleep hygiene.
Saffy plopped down beside Luna and nudged her gently. “Hey. You okay?”
“No.”
“Wanna cry on my shoulder?”
“No.”
“Wanna hear something stupid to distract you?”
Luna hesitated. “Always.”
“I once tried to adopt a pet owl and name it Mister Hootsington.”
“...You can’t adopt owls.”
“I learned that. Also, they bite.”
Luna smiled despite herself. “Thanks, weirdo.”
“Anytime.”
Mira lowered herself cross-legged to the ground, eyes closed, glowing faintly. “I’m trying to connect with its signature. Don’t interrupt unless it tries to eat my face.”
“Super normal,” Saffy muttered.
Luna stared at the moon above the trees. The air felt thick with magic. Not the warm kind. The old kind. The kind that lived in bloodlines and bones and made wolves howl at the stars without knowing why.
“You think I did this?” she asked softly.
Knox didn’t answer immediately.
“You mean attract it?”
She nodded.
Knox’s voice was low. “I think you’re part of something older than you want to admit.”
“Helpful.”
“I also think whatever this is, it’s not your fault. And I’d rather it come for me than for you.”
She looked up. “Don’t say things like that.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m already freaked out and—”
She stopped.
Because Knox was looking at her again. That way. The one that made her heart slam against her ribs like a warning.
“You don’t have to protect me,” she said.
“I know.”
“And you’re still going to?”
He nodded.
She hated how that made her feel. Hated the warmth in her chest. Hated the ache. Hated him for being gentle when she was only good at pushing.
“I kissed you,” she blurted.
He blinked.
“Like—seriously kissed you. And I freaked out. And you didn’t say anything. And then you brought me to a haunted clearing and now there’s a thing trying to eat me and I just—”
“Luna.”
She stopped.
Knox stepped forward, knelt in front of her, and took her hand. Just one. Simple. Solid.
“I didn’t say anything,” he said, “because I didn’t want you to regret it. And I knew if I kissed you back, you’d run.”
Luna’s breath caught.
“I’m not running now,” she whispered.
His voice dropped. “I know.”
And then the wind shifted.
Mira’s eyes flew open.
“Something’s here.”
The warmth in Luna’s chest vanished.
---
The air split like fabric.
One second the clearing was still. The next—wrong.
Luna felt it before she saw anything. A sickening tug in her chest. The mate bond shivering like it had touched ice.
Mira stood. “It’s outside the circle.”
Knox growled low, barely audible, but enough to make the hairs on Luna’s arms rise.
Then came the sound.
A dragging, wet skrrrrrk across the outer trees. Like claws being slowly pulled through bark.
Saffy paled. “Please tell me that’s Theo doing bad impressions again.”
Mira shook her head. “No. This one’s real.”
Knox’s entire posture shifted. No more calm. No more quiet stillness. His wolf surged to the surface—not visibly, but in the way his eyes gleamed, golden and sharp.
“It can’t cross the circle,” Mira said firmly. “But it’s here for her.”
Luna stood slowly, every instinct screaming at her to run.
“Don’t,” Knox said, reading her before she moved. “It wants you scared.”
“Too late,” she snapped, heart hammering.
More dragging.
A whisper, like breath through leaves. Low. Male. And wrong.
“Luuuuna…”
Saffy grabbed a muffin and hurled it blindly into the trees. “BACK OFF, CREEPER!”
A pause.
Then—laughter.
Not the kind you wanted to hear in the dark. Something slithering and ancient. Like something that remembered you.
Luna’s knees buckled, but Knox was already there, arm around her.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured.
The trees darkened unnaturally. One by one, the stars blinked out overhead. Mira’s protective circle pulsed under their feet.
And then—
It stepped into view.
Not fully. Just a glimpse between the trees.
It looked like a man. Or had once been one. But its limbs bent wrong. Joints too loose. Skin pale like candle wax. No eyes. Just two slits where they should be.
Luna's mouth went dry.
“What the hell is that?” she whispered.
Mira’s voice cracked. “An Echo.”
Knox’s head whipped toward her. “That’s impossible. Those were wiped out generations ago.”
“They don’t die,” Mira said hoarsely. “They just sleep. Until something wakes them.”
The Echo c****d its head toward Luna, sniffed the air, and smiled. Teeth too many. Too sharp.
It took a step forward—and hit the ward like glass.
An invisible clang echoed as it rebounded, hissing.
Then it stared straight at Luna and said:
“She’s the last tether.”
Luna froze.
“What does that mean?” she whispered.
Mira paled. “I don’t know. But I think… something bound to your family line is still alive. This thing wants to sever it.”
Saffy looked between them. “Wait. So this is about more than the mate bond?”
Knox’s arm tightened protectively around Luna. “This is about who she is.”
The Echo took one more swipe at the circle—then vanished.
Silence returned, but it wasn’t comforting.
Mira turned slowly. “Luna… you need to tell us who your mother was.”
Luna swallowed hard.
“She died when I was born,” she said. “I don’t remember her. Just a name. Lyra.”
Mira staggered back.
Knox’s eyes went wide.
“What?” Luna demanded. “What’s wrong?”
Mira whispered, “Lyra Ashwood didn’t just die. She vanished… after helping seal the last Echo.”
Knox stepped back in shock. “She was part of the Severing?”
Luna’s pulse thundered. “What the hell is the Severing?!”
Mira stared at her, voice shaking.
“It’s the reason creatures like that haven’t walked these woods in fifty years. Lyra helped destroy their master.”
“And now,” Knox said quietly, “one’s awake again. And it thinks it can reach him… through you.”
---
Later That Night
Luna sat on the edge of her bed, hands shaking.
Everything in her life—every secret, every runaway instinct—felt like it had been a thread tugged loose. Her mother wasn’t just a dead she-wolf. She was a damn war story.
And Luna… was the epilogue.
A soft knock at her door.
“Go away,” she said.
Knox didn’t listen.
He walked in, closed the door gently, and said nothing.
“I don’t need comfort,” Luna muttered.
“I know.”
“I’m not scared.”
“You are.”
“I hate you.”
Knox sat beside her. “No, you don’t.”
She turned. “How do you know?”
He looked at her, eyes unbearably kind. “Because I’ve hated things before. You’re not one of them.”
Luna exhaled shakily.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be.”
“Then be here. That’s enough.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder—just for a moment.
It didn’t feel like surrender.
It felt like breathing.
- Writer
