EIGHTEEN: MARKED
695 Words
The next attack didn’t come from the outside.
It came from within.
Ember felt it before she understood it.
A pull.
Subtle.
Wrong.
Not pain—not yet.
Just… pressure.
Like something beneath her skin had started moving.
“Bright…”
Her voice faltered, thinner than she meant it to be.
He was already turning toward her.
Alert.
Tense.
His instincts didn’t hesitate, even if she did. “What is it?”
“My arm—”
She sucked in a sharp breath.
Pain hit.
Sudden.
Violent.
It tore up her wrist like something was trying to claw its way out.
She doubled slightly, gripping her forearm. “Something’s ... ”
The skin shifted.
Not visually at first.
But she felt it.
Like heat pressing outward. Then.. the darkness bled beneath her skin.
Spreading.
Coiling.
And then it surfaced.
A mark.
Etched into her wrist like it had always been there.
Silver lines burned through the dark—
runes twisting into shape.
Alive.
Watching.
Bright saw it.
And something in him snapped cold.
“That’s not yours.”
His voice dropped—low, sharp, lethal.
Ember let out a strained breath.
“I know that.”
The mark pulsed.
Once.
A dull throb.
Twice.
Stronger.
Then
it answered something.
Heat surged through her body.
Not warmth.
Not power.
Something invasive. Something that didn’t belong to her.
Her magic reacted instantly...violently.
Fire erupted from her hands, uncontrolled, slamming into the cave walls in a burst of raw force.
The space lit up in chaotic flashes of orange and gold.
Stone cracked.
Heat roared.
“Ember—”
Bright moved without thinking.
He caught her as her balance gave, pulling her down before the flames could lash back.
“Focus!” he barked.
But this wasn’t like before. This wasn’t her losing control. This was something taking it. “I can’t...!”
Her voice broke. Panic edged in now.
Real.
Unfiltered.
The fire surged again, snapping outward like it had its own will.
“You can.”
His grip tightened around her arms.
Firm.
Unyielding.
Not hurting—but impossible to ignore.
Grounding.
Anchoring.
Like he was forcing her back into her own body.
“Look at me.”
She shook her head weakly at first.
“I can’t—”
“Look at me.”
Sharper now.
Not louder.
But absolute.
Something in his tone cut through the chaos.
She forced her gaze up.
It took effort.
Everything in her felt like it was being pulled somewhere else.
But she found him.
Locked onto him.
Barely—
but enough.
“Breathe.”
The word came slower this time.
Deliberate.
Measured.
Like he was holding the world still long enough for her to follow.
Her chest rose sharply.
Air hit her lungs too fast.
Shaky.
Unsteady.
The flames flickered.
Not gone—
but faltering.
“Again.”
His thumb pressed slightly into her arm.
A reminder.
A tether.
She inhaled again.
Slower this time.
Forced.
The fire wavered.
Collapsed inward.
“Stay with me.”
Not a command.
Not entirely.
Something closer to a plea buried under control.
Her next breath steadied.
Then another.
The flames dimmed.
Faded.
Then,
gone.
Silence crashed down around them.
Heavy.
Thick with heat and the echo of what almost happened.
All that remained—
was the sound of their breathing.
Too loud.
Too uneven.
Too human.
Bright didn’t let go.
Not immediately.
His eyes dropped to her wrist.
To the mark.
Still glowing faintly.
Still there.
“They found another way to track you,” he said quietly.
But there was something else under it now.
Not just strategy.
Not just anger.
Something sharper.
More personal.
Ember followed his gaze.
Her stomach turned.
It didn’t feel like a mark.
It felt like a leash.
“They’re not just hunting me anymore.”
Her voice hardened—but it wavered at the edges.
Because she could still feel it.
That pull.
That presence.
Waiting.
Watching.
“They’re controlling me.”
The words settled between them.
Heavy.
Final.
And for the first time. Bright didn’t immediately respond.
Because this, this was something he couldn’t just fight.
And that... was a problem.
- Writer
