"Selene, MOVE!"
Alaric's shout cut through the fog in her mind. He grabbed both girls, pulling them away from the window where their father's body lay.
Lady Elara appeared from the smoke like a ghost.
Still in wolf form. Her sleek silver fur was matted with blood. Not all of it hers.
She shifted back to human. Naked and streaked with soot and tears.
"My girls." Her voice broke. "My babies."
She grabbed them both, pulling them close for one desperate heartbeat.
Selene buried her face in her mother's shoulder. "Papa is..."
"I know. I know." Lady Elara's voice was steady even as tears streamed down her face. "But you're alive. You have to stay alive."
She pushed them toward Alaric. "Get them out. Through the kitchen passage. There's a door to the outer gardens."
"What about you?" Alaric asked.
"I'll buy you time."
"Mother, no!" Selene grabbed at her mother's hand.
Lady Elara knelt, cupping Selene's face. "Listen to me. You and Isolde run. You don't look back. No matter what you hear. No matter what happens. You run and you survive."
"I don't want to leave you!"
"I know, my darling. But mothers protect their children. It's what we do." She kissed Selene's forehead. Then Isolde's. "I love you both. More than breath. More than life."
Footsteps pounded behind them. Soldiers emerging from the manor.
"There! The children!"
Lady Elara stood. Her body rippled and reformed. The silver wolf returned, placing herself between her daughters and death.
"GO!" Her mental voice crashed into their minds with Alpha force.
Alaric grabbed both girls and ran.
Selene twisted in his grip, looking back.
Her mother launched herself at the soldiers. Five of them. All armored. All armed with silver.
She was magnificent. A whirlwind of fur and fangs and fury.
Her jaws closed on one soldier's throat. He went down choking.
Her claws raked another's face. He fell screaming.
But there were too many.
A blade caught her shoulder. She stumbled.
Another blade slashed her flank.
"Mama!" Isolde shrieked.
"Don't look!" Alaric pulled them around a corner. "Don't look back!"
But Selene couldn't help it.
One more glance over her shoulder.
Just in time to see a soldier drive a silver spear through her mother's chest.
The wolf collapsed.
Shifted.
Lady Elara lay on the bloodstained stones. Her eyes found Selene's across the distance.
She smiled.
Even dying, even broken, she smiled at her daughter.
Then she was gone.
Selene's scream caught in her throat. Wouldn't come out. Her chest seized. Her vision blurred.
Everything went silent.
Not really silent. Soldiers still shouted. Flames still roared. The manor still died around them.
But Selene couldn't hear any of it.
Just her own heartbeat. Thundering. Breaking.
Both her parents dead.
Both gone.
In minutes.
"Keep moving!" Alaric's voice cut through the silence. He dragged them through a side corridor she barely recognized.
Smoke filled the passage. Thick and choking. Selene coughed until her lungs burned.
Isolde sobbed beside her. Wordless sounds of grief.
They stumbled through the darkness. Alaric leading, somehow knowing the way even through smoke and chaos.
Behind them, soldiers searched. Shouting to each other.
"Find the marked one!"
"The Alpha King wants proof of death!"
"Search every room!"
Marked. They kept saying that word.
Selene didn't understand.
Then her forehead began to burn.
Not like the smoke. Not like the heat from the fires.
Like something pressing against her skin from the inside. Branding her.
She touched her forehead with shaking fingers.
They came away wet.
Blood.
But she hadn't been cut. No one had struck her head.
The burning intensified. Searing. Like metal heated white-hot and pressed against her skull.
She stumbled, crying out.
"What's wrong?" Alaric stopped, turning to her.
"My head. It burns."
He looked at her forehead. His eyes widened.
"Oh no."
"What? What is it?"
"The mark. It's appearing."
Selene's fingers traced the burning skin. She felt something raised. A ridge. Forming as she touched it.
Crescent-shaped.
"What mark? I don't understand!"
Behind them, a soldier rounded the corner. Saw them.
His eyes went straight to Selene's forehead. To whatever was appearing there.
"THERE!" He pointed, shouting to the others. "The mark is appearing! She's the one from the prophecy!"
More soldiers poured into the corridor.
Alaric shoved Selene and Isolde forward. "RUN!"
They ran.
Through smoke-filled passages. Past bodies of servants. Past rooms engulfed in flames.
The manor was dying. Everything Selene had ever known. Every memory. Every safe place.
All burning.
And on her forehead, the mark burned with it.
Branding her.
Marking her.
For what, she didn't know.
But the soldiers wanted her dead because of it.
They burst into another corridor. This one less smoky. A servants' passage Selene recognized.
It led to the gardens. To escape.
"Almost there," Alaric panted. Blood ran down his side from a wound Selene hadn't noticed before. "Just a little further."
Isolde's hand gripped Selene's so tight it hurt. Neither girl let go.
The mark on Selene's forehead pulsed with each heartbeat. Hot. Angry. Alive.
Behind them, boots pounded on stone. The soldiers were close.
Too close.
"This way!" Alaric pulled them left, through a narrow door.
Into the rose garden.
Their mother's garden.
Where moments ago... was it moments? Hours? Time had stopped meaning anything.
Where their mother had died.
The garden was chaos. Soldiers everywhere. Searching. Hunting.
"Split up!" one shouted. "The marked girl can't have gone far!"
Alaric froze, looking around desperately. They were surrounded. No clear path to the outer wall. No escape.
Selene's forehead burned hotter. The mark fully forming now. She could feel its shape without touching it.
A crescent moon.
Crimson red.
Branded into her skin forever.
"Why?" she whispered. "Why is this happening?"
Alaric's face was grim. "I don't know. But we need to hide. Now."
He pulled them toward the groundskeeper's shed. Hidden in ivy. Small. Dark.
But maybe safe.
Behind them, a soldier's voice rose above the others.
"She's here! I can smell young wolf blood! Find her!"
The mark pulsed.
And Selene understood, finally, with horrible clarity.
This was all because of her.
Whatever this mark meant. Whatever prophecy they screamed about.
Her parents died because of it.
Because of her.
The burning on her forehead felt like punishment.
Like justice.
Like the beginning of something that would never end.