The voice lingered in the air, cold and deliberate, slicing through the thick night like a blade. Aria's skin crawled, her pulse thrumming violently as every instinct screamed that danger had arrived—danger unlike anything she had faced before. The crimson hound's echo still lingered in her veins, and Malakai's shadows flared like a protective storm, coiling around them both, ready to strike.
"Show yourself!" Malakai commanded, his voice low, sharp, and dangerous. The shadows behind him stretched into jagged spikes that dug into the mist, threatening anything that dared approach.
"You will not touch her."
The forest held its breath. Then, from between two ancient oak trees, a figure emerged—slender, unnervingly graceful, wrapped in a cloak that seemed to drink the moonlight. Golden eyes glinted from beneath the hood, and Aria's stomach tightened. Something about the way the figure moved, measured, deliberate, made her blood hum with recognition—and fear.
"Who… who are you?" she whispered, her hands lifting instinctively as crimson energy began to pulse along her veins.
The figure stopped a few paces away, voice smooth, cold, and hypnotic. "You do not remember me, little mortal… but I have always been with you. Waiting. Watching. Guiding."
Aria's pulse stuttered. "I don't know you. Leave us—"
"Oh, but you do," the figure said, lowering the hood to reveal a face strikingly familiar. Sharp features, golden eyes that mirrored something deep within her, and a faint, cruel smile that made her knees weaken.
"Your blood carries my mark, Aria. You cannot escape it."
Malakai stepped forward, wings bristling with dark energy. "Stay where you are," he warned. "Do not come closer."
The figure tilted their head, amusement flickering across their face. "Ah, the shadow who claims her. How… predictable." A laugh, soft and cruel, slipped into the night. "But he cannot protect you forever. You are mine as much as his."
Aria's chest tightened. Her mind raced. "Mine? What… what do you mean? I am… I—"
The figure's gaze pierced her soul. "You were marked before you even knew it, child. The blood of the ancient binds you to me. Every heartbeat, every pulse of power you feel… it is mine, waiting for the moment I claim it."
Fear and rage ignited within her. "I am not yours!" she screamed, crimson energy flaring uncontrollably, lashing at the figure. The attack struck, but the figure didn't even flinch; instead, the energy bent around them, harmlessly dissipating into the mist.
Malakai growled low in his throat, a deep, vibrating sound that seemed to shake the forest. "You cannot touch her. Not now. Not ever."
The figure's smile widened. "Ah, but he underestimates me. And you—" their gaze flicked to Aria, golden eyes alight with cruel hunger, "—you underestimate the depth of the bond already etched into your veins."
Aria's hands shook, energy spilling over, but Malakai's hand brushed hers, shadows wrapping around her fingers, steadying the fire. The bond flared, a lifeline and a weapon all at once.
"You are mine," he said, voice dark, intimate, absolute. "And no one—no creature, no mark, no ancient power—will take you from me."
The figure tilted their head, amused. "Bold… but naïve." They lifted a hand, and the forest seemed to shiver in response. Shadows emerged from the mist, darker than night, twisting unnaturally, whispering threats in tongues that scraped the edges of Aria's mind. "I can awaken what sleeps within you. I can claim it. And when I do…" Their eyes flicked to Malakai. "Even he will fall back."
Aria staggered. Fear and anger collided, burning through her like fire. "I… I won't let you!" she screamed. She could feel the pulse of her own awakening, raw and untamed, intertwining with the pull of Malakai's shadowed energy. A surge of crimson light exploded from her veins, searing through the mist, scattering the dark whispers that clawed at her mind.
The figure laughed softly. "Impressive… but not enough. You have strength, yes. But your fear, your desire… your very bond with him can be exploited."
Malakai stepped in front of her fully, wings spreading wide, shadows forming lethal blades. "Do it again, and I will tear this forest apart before you touch her."
The figure's gaze lingered on Aria, and for a moment, something flickered in her chest—a memory, a pulse, a recognition that terrified her. The whispers of the mark within her were growing, stronger, calling to this figure. It wasn't just fear; it was something deeper, something she didn't understand but felt with every heartbeat: she was theirs, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
"Mark," Malakai growled, voice sharp. "Reveal yourself, or leave now. I will not warn you again."
The figure laughed, a sound that made the hairs on her arms stand on end. "Ah, so possessive, shadow. Do you not see? She is already part of the legacy I left behind. And soon… she will remember. Soon, she will feel it fully."
Aria's pulse thundered. Memories flickered at the edges of her mind—dreams she hadn't remembered, visions of golden eyes and whispers, of warmth and coldness intertwined. And then, something worse: a sharp twist of betrayal. Malakai's shadow tightened around her, protective, but suddenly she felt the faintest tug in her veins, a pull that was not his.
"You feel it," the figure said softly, almost teasing. "The bond… yes, it binds her to him, but my mark is older, deeper. It waits. It hungers. And one day, she will have to choose—him or me."
Aria's breath caught. Her mind spun. "Choose… what?"
Malakai's eyes narrowed, shadows flaring. "Do not listen to it," he growled. "Do not acknowledge its lies."
The figure smiled, stepping back into the mist. "Time will reveal all, little mortal. And when it does… you will understand the price of being marked."
Then, as suddenly as they appeared, the figure vanished, leaving only a lingering echo of golden eyes in the mist. The forest was silent again, but Aria could feel the presence, the pull of something ancient, something claiming her beyond even Malakai's power.
Her legs gave way, and she sank to her knees, trembling. Malakai knelt beside her, shadowed wings folding around her like armor. His touch was warm, grounding, but she could feel the tug of the mark inside her, like a whisper against her blood.
"You are trembling," he murmured, brushing a shadowed hand along her jawline. "Is it fear… or something else?"
"I… I don't know," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "It's… something inside me. Something I don't understand. And it knows me… knows me, Malakai."
He leaned closer, shadowed wings brushing her shoulders. "Whatever it is, Aria, hear me now. You are mine. My shadow, my fire, my bond. No mark, no ancient bloodline, no whispering predator… will ever take you from me."
But even as he spoke, a part of her—deep, hidden—quivered. The mark within her was real. It existed. And it hungered. And though Malakai's shadow comforted and tethered her, that other presence, golden and ancient, had awakened a question she could not ignore:
Could she be bound to two forces? And if she were, what would the cost of her heart, her power… her soul be?
The forest whispered around them, full of unseen eyes. Crimson fire pulsed along her veins, Malakai's shadow entwined with hers, protective yet igniting, thrilling, dangerous. And in the deepest part of her mind, something stirred—a memory, a promise, a pull she did not understand but could not deny.
Aria realized, with a shiver, that her awakening was far from over. It was only beginning. And the trials ahead… would test not just her power, but her loyalty, her desire, and the very essence of her being.
The night stretched endlessly, dark and heavy, carrying a single, terrifying truth:
She was marked.
She was bound.
And soon… she would have to confront what that truly meant.