Chapter Seven: Moonblood
She didn't know how long she'd been staring into the trees.
The mark on her skin had stopped glowing — but it left behind a dull ache, like something inside her had shifted out of place.
Ava pulled her jacket tighter. Her breath fogged in the air even though it wasn't cold. Not outside, at least.
Inside her?
Freezing.
She needed answers. And the one person who had them… was gone.
Coward, she thought bitterly.
But part of her didn't blame him. Not after what she saw in that mirror.
The truth was… she didn't look like herself anymore.
She looked like something caught between girl and ghost.
---
The cabin felt smaller with each hour. Every creak in the floorboard made her jump. Every gust of wind felt too deliberate.
And then…
The scent hit her.
Blood.
Not hers.
Fresh.
She shot up, following the metallic trail through the trees. Her bare feet barely made a sound. The air buzzed, almost… electric.
Then she saw it.
A mark carved into the bark of an old ash tree — sharp and deep.
Not scratched.
Etched.
A symbol. Like the one on her skin. Only older.
Ancient.
Below it, a single animal lay torn apart — a deer — with no tracks around it. No signs of struggle.
Just silence.
And blood.
Ava stepped back, heart pounding, but then a strange warmth bloomed beneath her ribs.
The mark.
It pulsed again — not painfully, but like it was recognizing something.
And this time… she didn't feel afraid.
She felt drawn.
---
Behind her, a low voice murmured.
"You're waking up too fast."
Ava spun around — but no one was there.
Only the wind.
Only the trees.
But she had heard it.
Not Rhett.
Not a memory.
A voice ancient enough to make her bones ache.
She stood there, barefoot in blood-soaked leaves, realizing something terrifying and true.
She wasn't alone.
And she wasn't just marked.
She was claimed.