Marked By The Enemy

Suspicions arises

Elara stood in front of the heavy oak doors, her hands curled into fists at her sides. The flickering torchlight cast long shadows against the stone walls of the hunter’s fortress, but the weight pressing on her chest had nothing to do with the darkness.

She had been summoned.

The message had been simple: Report to the headhunter immediately. No explanation. No warning. Just those few words that sent her stomach twisting into knots.

It had been a month since Kaiza’s escape, a month of whispered conversations that always seemed to die the moment she entered the room. A month of stolen glances, of hunters eyeing her like a puzzle they couldn’t quite solve. They didn’t trust her.

And now, neither did he.

Taking a slow breath, she pushed open the doors and stepped inside.

The headhunter sat behind a heavy wooden desk, the same desk she had stood in front of countless times before. As a child, when she was too small to hold a sword properly. As a teenager, when she’d first learned how to track a werewolf through the forests. And now, as a woman carrying a secret that could destroy her.

His piercing gaze met hers, unreadable as always. The years had carved deep lines into his face, but there was no mistaking the sharpness in his eyes. A warrior’s eyes. A hunter’s eyes. And worst of all, the eyes of a man who had raised her like a daughter.

“Elara,” he said, his voice even, measured. “Sit.”

She obeyed, lowering herself onto the chair across from him. She forced herself to meet his gaze, but her palms felt clammy against her thighs.

“You know why you’re here,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

She swallowed. “No, sir.”

His fingers tapped against the desk, slow and deliberate. “A month ago, Kaiza Draeven escaped. The fortress was locked down, the guards stationed, the cells reinforced. And yet, he’s gone.” He leaned forward slightly. “I need to know how.”

Elara’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know.”

A long silence stretched between them.

“Don’t lie to me.”

The quiet command sent a shiver through her. The headhunter rarely raised his voice; he never needed to.

“I’m not.”

“I trained you, Elara,” he interrupted, his voice soft but firm. “I know you better than anyone. I know when you’re keeping something from me.” He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “The others, they suspect something. They whisper. They question. But me? I know.” His gaze locked onto hers. “You were the last one to interrogate him before he escaped.”

A test. A trap.

Elara’s heart pounded, but she kept her face impassive. “He must have found a way to break free. Maybe someone else helped him.”

The headhunter studied her, searching for cracks in her words. She forced herself to stay still, to breathe evenly. She had lied before. To werewolves. To strangers. To enemies. But never to him.

He leaned back in his chair. “Is that what happened?”

“Yes.”

Another stretch of silence. Then he exhaled sharply, his fingers steepling together. “I found you in the ruins of your home, Elara. Do you remember that night?”

She didn’t need the reminder.

The bloodstained floors. The splintered door hanging off its hinges. The cold hands of her mother, unmoving.

She had been six years old.

He had carried her from that place, had trained her, had made her into something stronger. She owed him everything.

But she couldn’t tell him the truth.

“Of course I remember,” she said quietly.

He nodded. “Then you understand why I need the truth.” His voice softened, just slightly. “I don’t want to believe you betrayed us, Elara. I don’t want to believe that you, my own, could do something so reckless.”

Betrayal. The word landed like a blade to her ribs.

“I haven’t betrayed you,” she said, and at least that part wasn’t a lie.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he leaned forward, voice dropping lower. “Then tell me why I feel like I’m losing you.”

Her throat went tight.

She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the stone floor. “I’ve given everything to this cause. To you. To the hunters.” Her voice wavered, but she held his gaze. “You don’t have the right to doubt me.”

The headhunter didn’t react. He simply studied her, as if trying to read the truth in her stance, in her clenched fists, in the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

Then, finally, he nodded. “Very well.”

It wasn’t forgiveness. It wasn’t trust. But it was something.

As she turned to leave, his voice stopped her.

“One more thing,” he said, his tone unreadable. “What do you know about the prophecy?”

Her blood ran cold.

** *

Elara lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep refused to come. It had been that way for weeks, restlessness curling beneath her skin, something foreign stirring inside her. No matter how much she tried to ignore it, the pull was there.

A whisper in the back of her mind. A tug deep in her chest.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing it away. It was just the bond, the damned bond, twisting its invisible chains around her. But it had never felt this strong before. Tonight, it was unbearable.

The air in the room was suffocating. Her heart drummed an uneasy rhythm.

She threw off the blanket and stood, exhaling sharply. Maybe a walk would clear her head. Maybe she just needed fresh air.

That was a lie.

She knew where she was going before she even stepped outside.

The fortress was silent at this hour, the torches along the walls flickering like ghosts in the dark. Her footsteps were light, almost instinctive, as she slipped through the winding paths, past sleeping guards and empty halls. The night was cold, yet a heat simmered beneath her skin, driving her forward.

Into the forest.

She didn’t know why. She didn’t know how.

But she felt him.

Every step closer made her pulse hammer harder. Her senses sharpened—every rustle in the trees, every shift in the wind. It was maddening, the way her body knew before her mind caught up.

And then she saw him.

Kaiza stood beneath the pale light of the moon, his dark hair ruffled by the wind, his piercing golden eyes locked onto her like he’d been expecting her all along. There was no surprise in his face, no hesitation. Just quiet certainty.

Elara skidded to a stop, her breath catching in her throat.

Shock hit first. Then anger.

“What the hell….”

Before she could finish, Kaiza’s lips curled into a smirk.

“Took you long enough.”