The Mark of the Mate
The moon shone down upon the pack's clearing, casting everything in silvery light. The battle against the rogues had left scars-not just on the land, but on the hearts of those who had fought. Celia sat on a wooden bench near the healer's quarters, staring at the bloodstains on her trembling hands.
Power had come out of her during the skirmish, something she hardly understood. Her attack saved lives but brought fear to the eyes of the pack. The glowing marks on her arms that briefly flared during the skirmish were still faintly pulsating like embers, making her feel like an outsider even more.
Aziel crept out of the darkness with his broad shape silhouetted against the moonlight. His movement was slow and cautious. Standing before her, he expressed nothing. "You should not be alone out here," he said.
Looking up at him, Celia's eyes had been dulling with defiance. "It's a little hard to feel alone with the whole pack watching as if I am going to blow up again."
Aziel didn't smile, though a flicker of amusement crossed his face. He crouched down to meet her gaze. "They don't understand yet. That power. it's a gift, Celia. Not a curse."
"A gift?" she scoffed, her voice rising. "A gift that makes everyone afraid of me. That draws rogues to us. I didn't ask for this, Aziel."
Aziel's jaw set. "No one asks for the roles they're given. You think I wanted to be Alpha after losing my family? That I wanted this responsibility? But we don't get to choose Celia. We can only decide what we'll do with the hand we've been dealt."
She was going to tell him that, she really was. Open her mouth, say what she wanted, but his eyes stopped her. A vulnerability she had never seen before softened the edges of his face, made her hesitate.
"Do you ever resent it?" she asked, soft and low.
Aziel paused, looked out at the horizon. "Every day," he admitted. "But resentment doesn't change the fact that my pack needs me. Just like the blessing needs you."
Celia's breath caught at the weight of his words, settling over her like a heavy cloak. She wanted to argue, to deny the connection she felt to this place, to him, but she couldn't. The bond was there, humming beneath her skin like a song she didn't yet know the words to.
Aziel stood and held out his hand to her. "Come with me," he said. "There's something you need to see."
Celia hesitated, but she put her hand in his. His warmth spread through her skin, steadying her frayed nerves. Together, they walked through the quiet settlement, the sounds of the night filling the spaces between them.
Aziel led her into the heart of the pack's sacred circle, hidden away in a glade surrounded by ancient trees. Here stood a stone altar and, weathered with time, full of intricate carvings that seemed to shimmer in the moonlight. Celia halted, her chest tightening as she took it in. "What is this place?"
"This is where our pack's bonds are sealed," Aziel said, his voice full of reverence. "It's where the moon blesses mates."
Celia's pulse raced as she tried to keep her thoughts straight. "Mates?"
Aziel nodded, drawing closer to the altar. "When two wolves are fated, the moon marks them as one. It strengthens their bond, connecting them on every level-mind, body, and soul."
Celia's hand went to the necklace at her throat as if drawn by instinct. The metal was warm, and its glow was faint but steady. "Why am I seeing this?" she asked.
Aziel turned to her, his expression unreadable. "Because you're my mate, Celia."
The words hung in the air like a thunderclap, echoed through her mind. She'd known it deep down; she'd felt it when her body reacted to his, in the unspoken pull that drew them together. But hearing it said makes it real in a way she never was prepared for.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "I didn't agree to this. I didn't ask for this bond."
Aziel's eyes softened, and he stepped closer. "The bond isn't something you can agree to or deny. It just. is. You feel it, don't you? The connection between us."
Celia's breathing hitched as he closed the gap between them, his nearness overwhelming. She should deny it, push him away, but the fact was undeniable. She felt the link-every time he was within reach, every time her eyes met his. A constant thrum beneath her skin was a magnetic force that simply could not be ignored.
"I don't know if I can do this," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"You can," Aziel said softly but firmly. "Because you're stronger than you think. And you're not alone in this."
Aziel reached for her hand, his fingers brushing against hers. The moment their skin touched, a jolt of energy surged through Celia, and the world around them blurred. She gasped as images flooded her mind, not her own but his. She saw Aziel as a boy, running through the forest with carefree laughter, his parents standing a few feet away. She saw him as a young man, standing over the bodies of his family, the blood on the ground staining from the fire that engulfed their home. She felt the ache in his chest, his anger, his determination to rebuild what had been taken from him.
When the visions faded, she found herself gripping his hand tightly, tears stream-ing down her face. "Aziel."
He met her gaze, his expression raw. "Now you see why I fight so hard to protect what's mine. Why I won't let the rogues take you."Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.
His heart was aching for him, the boy who had lost everything and the man who had risen from the ashes. She didn't know what to say, so she squeezed his hand, letting the gesture speak for her.
Aziel stepped back, his expression hardening. "There's one more thing I need to show you."
He pointed to the altar where the carvings began to seem brighter. "The mark is what would unlock the moon's blessing entirely, which proves strength and bond, something no rogue could ever survive. If you accept the bond, the mark will finish it all."
Celia gazed at the altar as her chest tightened. "What if I don't?"
Aziel's jaw clenched, his eyes darkening. "So, then the blessing is not complete. Weak."
The weight of his words seemed to settle, and the necklace grew warm against her skin. She stepped closer to the altar, her hands shaking.
As she placed her palms on the stone, energy flashed through her, and carvings flared up with light. The air around her seemed to be charged with power, and her bond with Aziel began to grow stronger, more complex. But it wasn't just that bond she felt it was the blessing itself, an ancient and powerful one weaving itself into her being.
The light grew stronger and then Celia cried out, her forearm coming to her attention as a swirling pattern seemed to emerge like the liquid silver of a river at sunrise.
Aziel caught her by the elbows, steadying her. "You did it," he said, his voice full of awe.
Celia looked up at him, her vision blurred but clear enough to see the pride in his eyes. "What happens now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Now," Aziel said, his tone serious, "we fight for what's ours."
Before Celia could respond, a distant howl shattered the stillness of the night. Aziel stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he turned toward the sound.
"The rogues," he growled.
Celia's heart pounded in her chest as the howls grew louder, closer. The bond between her and Aziel pulsed with urgency, and she felt his resolve like a steady drumbeat in her mind.
"We need to move," Aziel said, his grip on her tightening.
As the pack prepared to make their attack, Celia felt the mark on her arm pulsing with power. She did not fully understand what it was or what it meant, but she knew this much: she wasn't running anymore.
As the first rogue burst into the clearing, its eyes blazing with malice, Celia stepped forward, her power surging to life.
The rogue snarled, launching himself at her, but Celia raised her hand, her mark flaring to a brilliant light. The energy that burst from her wasn't just a defense; it was a warning.