Lucien's fingers hovered over my skin, just above my collarbone, his breath stirring the loose strands of my hair.
"Let me mark you, Seraphina. Just until I figure out what you are."
I should have stepped back.
But I didn't.
Instead, I whispered, "Do it."
His hand moved with practiced control — fingertips brushing against my skin as if tracing something ancient. A slow burn followed, like starlight crawling beneath my flesh. I gasped, clutching his coat, and for a second, the world blurred.
Then… it was done.
A silver sigil bloomed over my collarbone, faintly glowing. A whisper of wings, flames, and something celestial. His mark.
Lucien stepped back, jaw tight. "It'll fade when I remove it. But while it's there, no one can touch you. Not without challenging me."
The doors creaked open behind us.
A tall woman in crimson robes swept into the corridor. She didn't walk — she glided, shadows clinging to her like a second skin. The Headmistress. Her eyes scanned me like a predator. They flickered to Lucien's mark, and for a moment, something like amusement crossed her face.
"Hmm," she said coolly. "Claimed already. Bold move, Lucien."
He gave a slight bow. "It was necessary."
The Headmistress smiled without warmth. "I suppose we'll see."
She turned on her heel, her robes brushing the floor like whispers of death. Lucien waited until she disappeared down the corridor before exhaling.
"You need to stay out of sight tonight," he said. "Things here don't work like the mortal world."
"I figured that out when you burned a symbol into my chest."
His eyes flickered to mine — not apologetic, but… conflicted. "I didn't hurt you."
I didn't answer. Because the truth was, it didn't hurt. Not in the way it should have.
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