Chapter 14 – Cursed Unleased
"She's mine now."
The words crashed through my mind, cold and final. My breath hitched, and a shiver sliced down my spine, locking every muscle in my body. I snapped my gaze to Ethan, who had positioned himself in front of me. His stance was protective, but his resolve wavered—just for a second. Fear flickered in his eyes, quickly chased by anger.
I couldn't bring myself to look at Lycan, not yet. My voice barely worked, but I managed a hoarse whisper. "What... what is that?"
Ethan didn't answer. His muscles were taut, eyes darting between me and the figure like he was mapping out a desperate escape route. But the doubt on his face was unmistakable—he wasn't sure we were getting out of this.
The figure moved closer, stepping fully into the moonlight. My breath caught in my throat. He was impossibly tall, his skin pale and smooth, like marble carved by some malevolent hand. But it was his presence that unnerved me most—a gravity that pulled the darkness in around him. He didn't look human. Sharp features, too fluid movements, and an aura that made my instincts scream.
"You can't have her," Ethan growled, his voice low but shaking.
The figure tilted his head, lips curling into a slow, cruel smile. His gaze flicked to Lycan. "And you—so protective of her. How touching."
Lycan snarled, the sound raw and animalistic. The air vibrated with his fury, but beneath it, I saw something else in his eyes—almost like recognition. Whatever history they shared, it was drenched in bad blood.
My feet stumbled over the uneven ground as panic clawed at my chest. Who the hell was this man? Why did he want me? Why did he say I was his?
"What's happening?" I whispered to no one in particular. My hands were trembling, the dull throb from the bite on my arm barely registering. Everything felt warped, like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.
Ethan's voice snapped me back. "Quinn, stay behind me. Don't move."
"But—"
"Just do it!" he barked, his eyes blazing. "You don't understand what we're dealing with."
The figure took another step forward, and the temperature seemed to drop. My breath puffed in the frigid air. Instinct screamed at me to run, but my legs wouldn't obey.
Lycan moved first, a blur of fur and muscle as he charged. His growl ripped through the night, fierce and primal.
"You think you can stop me?" the figure taunted.
With a fluid motion, he rolled out from under Lycan and stood, brushing dirt from his clothes like it was nothing. Darkness clung to him, writhing like living shadows.
Ethan surged forward, fists clenched. "You won't touch her."
The man's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Oh, Ethan. Still playing the noble hero, I see. But it's not your place to protect her anymore."
My pulse spiked. "What the hell does that mean?" I demanded, my voice cracking.
The man's gaze slid to me, and for a second, it felt like the ground tilted. My head swam, my senses overwhelmed by a strange, inexplicable pull. It was as if something inside me was resonating with him, like a thread being yanked taut.
His voice softened, but it carried a weight that made my knees buckle. "He marked you."
The words echoed in my mind. "What?" I whispered, horror creeping in.
"Now you're mine, Quinn," he said, almost gently.
Ethan yelled, fury radiating off him. "She is not yours!"
The man grinned, but there was no warmth in it. "Yes, she is. She has been marked. The bite sealed it."
I looked down at the bite on my arm, blood still oozing from the wound. My heart plummeted. Was he saying this was because Lycan bit me?
Ethan must have seen the realization on my face because he grabbed my arm, his grip firm but gentle. "It's not true," he said urgently. "Don't listen to him, Quinn."
But doubt flickered in his eyes. And I couldn't shake the cold dread settling in my chest.
Lycan snarled again, standing protectively in front of me, but the man's smile only widened.
"Soon," he whispered, his voice like a dark promise. "You'll understand."
Before anyone could react, the man vanished into the shadows, leaving only the echo of his chilling words behind.
Silence fell, heavy and suffocating. My breath came in ragged gasps, my mind spinning with questions I was too terrified to ask. The bite on my arm burned like fire, a cruel reminder that something had changed—something I didn't understand.
Ethan turned to me, his face pale and drawn. "Quinn, we need to go. Now."
I nodded numbly, my legs shaky as I stumbled after him. But even as we fled towards the house, one thought consumed me.
What did he mean by "marked"?