Aiden stood in the dim corridor carved from obsidian stone, cold mist curling around his boots like smoke from an invisible fire. Before him, two golden-eyed Watchers stood in silence, guarding the archway that led to the inner sanctum of the Watcher Council. Their expressions gave nothing away, but the energy between them crackled—he was expected. And not welcomed.
The massive double doors opened without a touch.
Aiden stepped into a room older than most of time. Arches soared like cathedral wings above a wide circular chamber, and in the center, a great stone table shimmered with a light not cast from any flame or sun. Seated around it were the Elders—each cloaked in grey, faces obscured but eyes burning with ancient power. This was the *HighWatch*, and they had summoned Aiden not for praise, but warning.
He bowed low, respectful but not afraid.
"Aiden of House Myrren," boomed a voice—low, rough, like stone being ground into dust. "You have crossed a line."
"I've done my duty," Aiden replied calmly. "Elena is safe. That is the oath."
"Protection is the oath. Attachment is not," said another voice—female, sharp as shattered glass. "You have interfered with the balance. You let her see you."
"She was in danger—"
"She is always in danger," another Watcher hissed. "She is Marked. But that does not make her *yours*."
The silence that followed was heavy. Aiden's jaw clenched.
"I know the law," he said, measured. "I know I've... crossed it."
"You risk awakening what is not meant to awaken. Marked souls do not belong to the world of flesh and feeling. They are tied to fate, not to you."
The council shifted. A flicker of unease stirred among them.
Then the High Elder leaned forward. His eyes glowed silver. "You are in too deep, Aiden. Her heartbeat has altered your own. You dream of her. You see her when you close your eyes. Do you think we do not *see* that?"
Aiden's breath caught.
"I won't deny it," he said.
"She must be reassigned," the woman said flatly. "You are relieved."
"No," Aiden stepped forward. "She's not safe without me. You know what happened to the last Marked girl left without a watcher."
A ripple of dark memory passed through the room. The death of a Seer-child. A war nearly awakened. It had almost destroyed their world.
"I will not leave her," he said softly.
The High Elder rose. "Then the burden will be yours to carry. But know this: If you continue, your protection will not come from us. Your wings will be severed. And if you fall in love with the Marked..."
The final words struck like a hammer:
"..you will destroy her."
---
Aiden stepped out of the chamber into the misty corridor of the Watcher's sanctum. The silence that followed him was heavy. Centuries of rules, bonds, and laws pressed on his chest like a curse.
He had been loyal.
He had followed orders for a hundred years. He had protected, watched, and disappeared like shadows before dawn. Never once had he interfered.
Until Elena.
As he walked toward the portal arch, memories of her laughter, her soft breath as she slept, and the gentle curve of her hand resting against his chest played in his mind like whispers of rebellion.
She wasn't just a girl. She was *his person* now, even if forbidden.
He stepped through the glowing archway and reappeared in the mortal realm, the cold night air biting at his skin. His power cloaked him, making him invisible as he wandered through the silent streets of the city.
He stopped near her building.
Her light was off. She was probably asleep.
And for a moment, the urge to simply *look at her* became unbearable. But he turned away.
He had to keep distance now… even if every part of him ached not to.
***
The morning sun slipped quietly through the blinds, brushing soft gold over Elena's skin. She groaned, stretching under the warmth of her blanket before slowly sitting up. The dream still lingered — shadows, whispers, and a pair of silver eyes watching her with silent intensity.
She shook her head and reached for her towel, heading into the bathroom. But as she peeled off her shirt, something caught her eye in the mirror.
Her breath froze.
A dark, glowing mark—faint, like ink beneath the skin—curved across her upper arm. Not a bruise. Not a scar. It shimmered faintly, like stardust shaped into a sigil. The design was elegant yet ancient: a crescent curled within a flame-like pattern, surrounded by five dots.
No pain. No tingling.
Just… there.
Her chest tightened.
She had seen that symbol before.
Students whispered about it on campus—always in low voices. Some called it "The Watcher's Seal." A mark said to appear on those chosen or protected by one of the unseen. According to the stories, those marked were rare. And watched not just by eyes of affection, but fate itself.
It was just fantasy talk, right?
Yet here it was. On her arm. After *everything*.
Elena's hands trembled slightly as she ran cold water over her face. No. She couldn't let anyone see it. Not until she figured out what it meant.
She hurried to her room, digging through her wardrobe until she found a long-sleeved black top. It clung to her skin in the wrong weather, but she didn't care. Her friends didn't need to know. Not yet.
As she stood in front of the mirror one last time, she whispered to her reflection, "Why me?"
The mark pulsed faintly in answer.
She didn't know it yet… but the moment that sigil appeared, Elena's life shifted. She was no longer just *watched*.
She was *chosen*.
Elena stepped out into the morning light, the sleeves of her shirt tugged low enough to hide the mark. The city bustled as usual, cars honking, students hurrying along sidewalks, life moving forward—oblivious to the strange turn hers had taken.
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and forced a small smile. Whatever this mark was, she would deal with it. She had classes to attend, a future to protect. She wouldn't let the unknown throw her off—not today.
At school, laughter echoed across the courtyard. Elena's friends gathered under the jacaranda tree, waving her over. She joined them, managing to laugh at something Maya said about their annoying history professor. For a moment, the strangeness of the morning faded into the background.
But she didn't notice the shadow beneath the tree across the street.
Aiden stood there, cloaked in the quiet invisibility only watchers knew how to wield. His eyes never left her.
She was radiant when she laughed—her eyes closing just a little, her nose scrunching in a way that made his chest ache. He'd watched her smile a thousand times, but something about today felt different.
Maybe it was the way she tried to hide her arm. Maybe it was how she pretended everything was fine when he knew it wasn't. Or maybe it was just *her*. How strong she tried to be… how soft she still remained.
Aiden leaned back against the tree, sighing to himself.
He had watched her to protect her.
But he hadn't expected to fall .