Marked By The Alpha

Chapter Eight – Whispers of the Well

The note felt heavier than stone in Ivy’s hand. Even after she burned it in the fireplace to ash, she still felt its weight pressing against her palm, as though the words had seared themselves into her skin.

The Severing is real. Seek the Well of Echoes when the moon is full.

She lay awake that night, staring at the canopy above her bed, her thoughts a restless tide. Selra prowled in the corners of her mind, restless and eager.

This is it, Selra urged. The way out. We only need courage enough to reach it.

And what if it’s a trap? Ivy countered. What if Mira is leading me into Arthur’s hands?

Then we bite, and we bleed, and we run until the earth itself hides us, Selra snarled. But if it’s true… if the Well can break his bond…

Ivy pressed her hands to her chest, where the mark pulsed faintly, tethering her unwillingly to Arthur’s presence. The very thought of severing it was like breathing for the first time after drowning.

---

Morning came too soon. The guards roused her with curt commands, escorting her to the courtyard where Arthur awaited. He stood tall, regal in a black cloak trimmed with silver, his presence a storm that drew all eyes.

When Ivy approached, he smiled—a sharp, satisfied curve of lips that chilled her.

“You’re healing well,” he observed, his gaze lingering on the unchained wrists. “Good. You will need your strength.”

“For what?” Ivy asked cautiously.

Arthur extended his hand. “Walk with me.”

Every instinct screamed at her to refuse, but she forced herself to take his arm. His touch burned, the mate bond thrumming alive, but she locked her jaw and endured.

He led her through the courtyard, past rows of warriors sparring in the dirt, their movements sharp and brutal. “You see them?” Arthur said, his voice low and filled with pride. “They train for you, Ivy. For us. A Luna must be protected at all costs.”

Her chest tightened. “I didn’t choose this.”

Arthur’s smile didn’t falter, though his grip on her arm grew harder. “Choice is a luxury. Destiny is not. You were chosen, and you are mine. In time, you will thank me.”

Her pulse spiked, Selra snapping furiously within her. Break his hand, sink our teeth into his throat—

Not yet, Ivy whispered back, forcing her face into calm. We need time.

Arthur released her only when they reached the edge of the training grounds. “Tomorrow night, you will sit at my side during council. The pack must see you as their Luna.”

Ivy’s stomach dropped. The council—elders, warriors, and advisers. A stage. A spectacle. Arthur meant to bind her to him in the eyes of his people, to make resistance impossible.

Her voice was steady, though her nails bit into her palms. “If they see me as Luna, will you release Michael?”

Arthur’s eyes darkened. He leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear. “Careful, little flame. Push me too far, and I’ll snuff him out before you can blink.”

Ivy froze, bile rising in her throat. He straightened, smiling again as though nothing had passed between them.

“Tomorrow,” he repeated, and strode away, leaving her trembling.

---

That evening, Mira returned with a tray of herbs. Ivy caught her wrist as she passed, whispering so low only Selra’s ears could have heard.

“You risked everything with that note,” Ivy murmured.

Mira’s eyes flicked to the guards before settling on Ivy. “And you risk everything even holding this conversation. Be silent. Listen more than you speak. The Well isn’t for the fainthearted.”

Ivy tightened her grip. “Tell me where it is.”

Mira’s lips thinned. She pretended to adjust Ivy’s bandage, leaning closer. “Three nights from now, the moon will be full. The Well lies beyond the northern woods, hidden in a valley where no pack dares tread. You’ll know it by the sound—the echo that comes from nowhere and everywhere at once.”

Her voice lowered further. “But beware, Ivy. The Well doesn’t only break bonds. It demands something in return.”

Before Ivy could ask what, Mira pulled back, her face a mask of calm again. “You’ll heal fine,” she told the guards, her voice loud enough to carry. “The Luna is stronger than she looks.”

And then she was gone.

---

Later that night, Ivy sat alone in her chamber, her mind a storm. Selra paced, restless.

Three nights, Selra growled. That is when we strike.

How? Ivy whispered. Arthur watches me even when he isn’t here. The mark—he feels me. If I stray too far—

Then we must outwit him. Hide our intent even from ourselves. Think of something else, something harmless, until the moment comes.

Ivy closed her eyes, drawing in a shaky breath. Could she truly do this? Could she risk everything on a legend whispered in shadows?

Her hands curled into fists. Yes. Anything is better than belonging to him.

---

The next night, Arthur summoned her again. This time, he brought her to the great hall, where a feast awaited. Warriors laughed, goblets clashed, and the scent of roasted meat filled the air.

Arthur guided her to the high table, seating her beside him. His hand lingered possessively on hers, his thumb stroking her knuckles as though she were a cherished treasure instead of a prisoner.

“Smile,” he whispered. “They must see how honored you are.”

Ivy’s lips curved into a smile so fragile it might shatter, but her eyes burned with hidden fire. Across the hall, she caught Mira’s gaze for the briefest second. The healer gave nothing away, but the faintest nod told Ivy she wasn’t imagining the weight of her choices.

Arthur raised his goblet, his voice booming across the hall. “Tonight, we celebrate the future of this pack—our Luna, chosen by fate, bound to me by the Moon Goddess herself.”

The crowd roared, chanting her name, but Ivy heard only the silent scream inside her own chest. Selra’s fury howled through her mind.

Three nights, Selra reminded her. Hold steady. Endure. Then we rise.

Ivy raised her goblet, her hand steady despite the storm inside her.

She would endure.

She would smile.

And when the moon was full, she would walk into the northern woods.

To the Well of Echoes.

To her only chance at freedom.