Page 72 of Blood Marked

Her mother had once told her,“Tears are just unspent fire, Selene. Let it burn. Let it melt everything that tries to break you. And when they think you’ve turned to ash, rise hotter.”

Selene looked at the cracked glass of the window. At the bed where he’d whispered her name like it was the only truth he knew when she was healing.

And she smiled. A slow, dangerous thing.

If Kael had wanted to protect her through betrayal, he’d succeeded. Because whatever they’d had— He had just killed it in front of everyone. Publicly. Deliberately. With a blade of words that cut deeper than steel.

And Selene? Selene would rise from it. Not as a pawn. Not as a relic of prophecy. Not even as his. But as thethreatthey all should’ve seen coming.

The woman with Veilwalker blood and nothing left to lose.

The reckoning in a silk dress and a blade in her boot.

And the next time Kael looked at her, he would know what he’d created. He wouldsee it in her eyes.

Maybe then, he’d understand the cost.

THIRTY-ONE

KAEL

They were close.

The last of them,the survivors. Rising Flame zealots who’d fled the assault on the citadel with blood still steaming on their blades.

Scouts had tracked their trail northeast, toward the Vale Ravine.

Kael hadn’t waited for permission. Hadn’t waited for backup.

He just ran. Through shadow. Through ash. Through blood.

His body tore through the forest like a storm unchained, boots pounding cracked earth, the cold sting of wind slicing his cheeks.

Because he needed torip something apart.

And this time… he wouldn’t stop until every last one of them was dead.

He found them at the base of a crag, cloaked in red and huddled around a makeshift campfire like they were untouchable. Like they didn’t know the Alpha of House Fenrir was already breathing down their necks.

He didn’t wait. Didn’t speak. Didn’t warn. He dropped from the ridge like death incarnated.

Steel whispered free from his back in a blur, and his blade met the first man’s throat before the bastard even reached for his weapon.

The second one screamed. Kael drove his knee into the man’s ribs and shoved the dagger into his eye socket.

The firelight flickered with blood.

Another tried to flee.

Kael shifted mid-stride.

Pain cracked through his spine, his ribs, his skull—bone stretching, reshaping, tearing through skin as his wolf burst free in a howl ofrage.Black fur. Blue-gold eyes glowing like twin moons. A monster carved from fury and scars.

He pounced. Teeth found flesh. Bone snapped.

The fourth one, bigger, armored—raised a poisoned glaive and landed a slice across Kael’s flank.

It only enraged him.

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