I didn't know what he meant by "mark," but I nodded anyway.
Not because I trusted him.
But because something in me already belonged to him—some strange, ancient pull I couldn't shake.
Lucien's hand slid to the back of my neck, fingers cool and steady. "It'll sting," he said. "Just breathe."
Before I could ask why, a sharp heat bloomed against my skin. I gasped. Not pain, exactly—it was deeper than that. Like a thread had been stitched between us, threading through bone and blood and memory. For a second, everything vanished: the hallway, the looming presence of this school, even the fear.
There was just him.
Then the hallway came crashing back. So did the heavy footsteps. A shadow stretched into the corridor.
Headmistress.
Lucien stepped in front of me, shielding me from her gaze like it was a weapon.
She was taller than I expected. Pale robes clung to her like mist, her eyes silver and hollow. She didn't speak right away. She just stared.
"At last," she murmured. "The little mystery arrives."
I swallowed hard. My voice stayed buried.
"She's claimed," Lucien said, his voice even.
The Headmistress's gaze shifted to him. "By you?"
"Temporarily," he replied. "She's unstable."
That word—unstable—echoed in my head. Like I was a bomb waiting to go off.
"Unstable is dangerous," the Headmistress said. "Keep her tethered, or I will."
She turned and swept down the corridor without waiting for a response.
When she was gone, I finally exhaled.
"What did you do to me?" I asked.
Lucien looked at me, serious. "I protected you."
"By branding me like an animal?"
"By keeping you out of her hands." He paused. "Seraphina, you don't understand what you are yet. But they can smell it. The power. The bloodline. The… wrongness."
"Wrongness?" My voice cracked.
He looked away. "Magic this old isn't supposed to exist anymore. But you... you're waking something up."
A bell rang overhead. Distant voices swelled.
Lucien turned to me. "Welcome to Arcanis Academy. Class starts in ten."