I tensed. It was one of the guards, alone this time. Tall. Broad. Dressed in all black, but something about his smirk made my blood run cold.
Leona quickly rose to her feet and stepped aside, confusion flashing in her eyes as she followed his gaze.
SLAM.
My eyes widened.
“Don’t do this,” I warned, trying to sound stronger than I felt. “He’ll kill you.”
Calvin moved forward, an intense anger radiating from him.
I turned around, exposing my back to her.
I nodded weakly, my throat still sore.
I gasped, fumbling to pull the dress back up, but it was too late.
He walked straight to the bed and gently laid me down on the soft sheets.
His gaze remained blank. “Because I don’t hurt women or let them get hurt.”
I shook my head and winced, biting down a cry. The rope binding me to the chair had dug deep into my skin. My whole body throbbed from sitting in the same position for too long.
“No!” I screamed, struggling in the chair.
His aura filled the entire room like a crushing wave of ice and anger.
He straightened up and turned toward the door. “Stay here. I’ll send my healer.”
Because I knew that face.
“I don’t know.”
He looked hesitant for a second, like he wasn’t sure if he should tell me. But then… he did.
“But I can’t find her. I don’t know the name of the warrior my parents gave her to. No one does. My father took that secret to the grave. And my mother… is the only one who could’ve told me.”
“The day she was born… my parents gave her to my father’s most trusted warrior. Told him to take her far away. Hide her.”
He looked at me… really looked at me. His brows furrowed, deep lines of confusion forming on his forehead.
My heart thudded painfully.
A flicker of pain in his eyes.
His eyes locked onto mine, widened slightly, full of questions he didn’t know how to ask. There was something else there too-confusion… and doubt. It was like he was seeing something that shouldn’t exist. Like the mark had shattered a belief he held tightly to.
“Tell me about yourself,” he said calmly. “Everything.”
“A coma… from what?”
A silence hung in the air, heavy, and bitter.
“We went to war with them,” he went on. “Weeks of bloodshed. Revenge. In the end, the werewolf council stepped in and forced a truce. But the damage was done. We became enemies. The peace is only in name.”
I tried to keep my voice light.
Then his voice shifted, softer, quieter.
“I was only eighteen,” he added softly. “And my mother… she never woke up. The poison, the trauma… it pushed her into a spiritual coma. The healers say her soul is trapped somewhere in between.”
He took a step back, shaking his head slowly.
“What about your parents? Couldn’t they find the warrior?”
Calvin’s eyes grew distant.
A cold chill passed through me.
“My mother comes from a family of great healers. Her Father teleports and her mother heals. She was born with an incredible gift of healing and teleportation. People respected her… admired her. She was kind. Trusted too easily.””
“You can’t be her…”
Then Calvin turned around, grabbed a chair from the corner, and pulled it to the side of my bed. He sat slowly, elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving my face. There was no rage in his expression now. No cruelty. Just curiosity. Deep and intense.
“I don’t understand,” he murmured. “You have her mark. Exactly. But…”
“She could command shadows… summon things no one else could. She could heal… teleport… there was so much she could do. But gifts like that attract enemies. Powerful ones. The seer warned my parents-if she grew up in the Nightshade Pack, someone would kill her before her powers matured. She had to be hidden… until she turned eighteen.”
I swallowed hard… What should I tell him? The truth? What if he is one of the people who wants to kill me and may have recognized me by my birthmark? No… I can’t tell him the truth… I can’t trust anyone.
He rubbed his hands together slowly, staring off like he was remembering something painful.
“Can I… see a photo of your mother?” I asked, not even sure why. I just needed to see. Something told me to ask.
He was quiet for a long moment, like he was wrestling with something in his mind. Then he let out a slow breath and looked at me again, this time with something almost vulnerable in his eyes.
“She should be eighteen now, but I can’t find her.”
I didn’t know what to say. My thoughts spun wildly. How could I have the same mark? Was it a coincidence? Or… something else?
My breath caught.
“Special how?”
My heart raced.
His jaw clenched.
The healer gave a quick nod and got back to work, her hands glowing faintly as she passed them over my injuries. I felt warmth where her energy flowed-soothing, calming. The pain in my ribs dulled, the swelling faded, and the ache in my back eased.
My lips parted, but no words came.
I couldn’t speak.
“Now… now I know my sister is of age. She’s eighteen. She’s safe to return.”
The moment my eyes landed on the picture-my breath caught.
My heart jumped.
He continued, his voice filled with pain now.
“Why?”
I knew her.
His eyes narrowed slightly confused, but after a second, he nodded. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a slim leather wallet, and flipped through the compartments.
My throat tightened. A cold chill ran through me. I couldn’t explain why.
“Who?”
“Oh…”
Then he turned to the healer.
I stared at the woman in the photo… and everything inside me started to shake.
For a moment, it was silent.
He sighed and continued.
“And my mother… she’s not in the right state to speak.”
“I was born with it,” I said quietly.
His jaw tightened.
I should’ve ignored it, but I didn’t.
“He died eight years ago.” His voice was firm, but I could hear the pain beneath it.
I stared at him, stunned.
I gasped, my hand covering my mouth.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.