The Hunter's Mark

Chapter 59 – The Hunter's Mark

The night air was thick with tension. The moon hung heavy and blood-red over the horizon, a cruel reminder of what was coming. Elvis stood at the edge of the woods, her cloak fluttering behind her as the wind whispered warnings through the trees.

Behind her, Alexander stood silent but steady, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade—not because he didn't trust her strength, but because the air reeked of danger.

"He's here, isn't he?" she whispered.

Alexander nodded. "I feel it too. A dark presence. Not just watching—but hunting."

Elvis closed her eyes, her senses heightening. Since the vision of her grandmother and the Temple of Ashes, her powers had grown sharper, wilder. The earth spoke to her in tremors. The wind carried voices from the past. And now, the trees trembled with the warning of an enemy.

Thalia appeared beside her in a flicker of silvery mist, her ghost-like figure more vivid than ever. "The Hunter," she said grimly. "He's close."

"Who is he?" Elvis asked. "What does he want from me?"

Thalia looked at her with sorrowful eyes. "He was once a witch like us. A blood guardian. But he betrayed the Queen. Sold his soul for power. Now he hunts the bloodline. You are the last. If he marks you, he can control the fire within you."

Elvis's breath caught. "Control it?"

Thalia nodded. "Your power is raw. Unshaped. If he marks you before your awakening is complete, he can use it. Twist it. Turn you into his weapon."

A rustling in the trees snapped their attention forward.

Alexander stepped in front of Elvis, his stance ready, protective. "Stay behind me."

"No." Elvis moved beside him. "This is my fight too."

From the shadows, a man emerged.

He was tall—at least six and a half feet—draped in a dark cloak lined with bones. His skin was pale, almost grey, and his eyes glowed an unnatural shade of gold. His presence pulled the warmth from the air. The ground beneath his feet withered.

"Elvira of the Fire Line," he drawled. "We meet at last."

Elvis stiffened. "I go by Elvis now."

The man chuckled. "Names don't matter. Not when your blood sings like hers. You have your grandmother's fire… and her foolishness."

Alexander growled, drawing his blade. "Say another word and you'll lose your tongue."

The Hunter barely glanced at him. "The vampire prince. I remember your kind. Always so bold. So doomed."

He raised a hand—and the forest behind him bent to his will. Shadows slithered across the ground, curling like snakes, reaching for them.

Elvis felt her power stir, fierce and protective. She stepped forward, eyes glowing faintly with embers. "You won't touch him. Or me."

The Hunter grinned, revealing teeth too sharp to be human. "You're awakening… but not fast enough. I can feel the seal cracking. Your power is glorious, child. But it's still untamed."

"I don't need to be perfect to burn you," she snapped, flames sparking at her fingertips.

The Hunter's expression darkened. "We'll see."

With a sharp motion, he hurled a whip of darkness toward her. Alexander deflected it with his sword, but the force sent him staggering back.

"Elvis!" he shouted, but she was already moving.

The fire inside her ignited, blazing through her veins. Her palms glowed orange, her hair whipping in the wind as she raised her hands and unleashed a wave of flame.

It collided with the Hunter's shadow, burning through it—but he only laughed.

"Good. Rage is a delicious start."

He moved like smoke, appearing before her in a blink. His hand shot out, aiming for her heart.

But Thalia's spirit surged forward, intercepting the blow. Her ghostly form flared with light, forcing the Hunter back.

"You will not mark her," Thalia hissed. "Not while I breathe."

"You don't breathe anymore, little guardian," he sneered. "You're already dead."

"But my soul still stands," she said. "And that's enough."

The two forces collided again—light and shadow crackling in the air. Elvis dropped to one knee, her head spinning. The power was too much—rising faster than she could control.

"Elvis!" Alexander called, fighting his way back toward her.

She looked up, teeth clenched. "I can't hold it…"

"Yes, you can," Thalia said, turning to her. "You must!"

Elvis closed her eyes, focusing. She reached inside—not just to her fear, but to her blood. Her history. Her birthright.

She saw Liora, flames dancing in her hands. She saw her people. She heard the screams from the temple. Felt the pulse of their power. The fire was not just rage—it was purpose. Love. Protection.

When her eyes opened again, they were pure molten gold.

She stood.

The air around her burst into heat. The shadows retreated, hissing.

She raised her arms, and a phoenix of flame erupted around her body, rising high into the sky. The Hunter staggered back, his cloak singed.

"This… this is not possible."

Elvis's voice was layered with another—Liora's. "You will not touch my blood. You will not poison it again."

She stepped forward, the phoenix crying above her.

The Hunter bared his teeth and vanished into black smoke, retreating into the night.

Silence fell.

The fire died down slowly. Elvis collapsed into Alexander's arms, shaking, breathless.

"You did it," he whispered, holding her tightly.

Thalia knelt beside them. "You resisted the mark. That means the awakening has begun. Truly begun."

Elvis looked at her. "What happens now?"

"You've revealed yourself," Thalia said softly. "He'll return. Stronger. But now, you have allies."

She looked toward the trees.

Women began to step out.

They wore the robes of ancient witches. Eyes glowing. Some old. Some young. All of them silent, watching her.

Thalia stood. "The Circle has come."

Elvis rose slowly, Alexander supporting her.

One of the women stepped forward. She had dusky skin, long black hair streaked with red, and sharp green eyes. "You are Elvira, child of Liora. The Queen Flame."

Elvis didn't speak.

The woman bowed.

And then, one by one, so did the others.

The forest glowed with light as every witch present whispered in unison, "Welcome home, Queen Mother."

Elvis trembled. She didn't feel ready. Didn't feel like a queen. But as the wind lifted her hair and the heat of her own power warmed her skin, she knew—

She was becoming her.

And there was no turning back.