5: MARKED

Rain's POV

I hadn't slept. I padded through the luxurious cell they'd placed me in, running my fingers over the gold-trimmed patterns of the furniture with a state of absent mind. Outside, the moon was suspended, its light a bitter reminder of what I'd witnessed down in the cellar.

I was numb where I had felt Kane's touch. Every time I tried to shut my eyes, the memory of his eyes, shifting from hazel to dark, and back again, tormented me.

A distant crash echoed within the manor, with shouting. I stiffened, my senses alert, listening for the slightest indication of what was happening. Were they coming back for me again?

The clock with its carved statues marked off minutes spent in the passage of hours. My prison, while pretty, was a prison. I tested the door again, it was still secured. I tried the windows, they were too high to jump.

Another collision, closer. My heart pounded against my chest as rapid footsteps echoed down the corridor beyond. I stepped back from the door of my own volition, scanning the room for something I might be able to use as a weapon.

Footsteps halted in front of my room. Something scraped on the door—nails on wood. I was breathless.

"Who's there?" I yelled, picking up a heavy silver candlestick.

Silence. There was a deep, rumbling growl that vibrated through the boards.

The lock splintered as something colossal slammed against the door. Once, twice—to the third blow, the door burst open, hinges ripped from the jamb.

Kane stood in the doorway, neither man nor creature. Clotted hair was tangled around his face, smeared over the half-already-changed body. Chest heaved with tortured breaths, claws gripped hard at hips. And his eyes kept me there—no longer fully black, but with a turmoil of darkness and that characteristic ash-brown of gold. Two souls battled for domination within.

"You," he growled, the sound barely audible.

I held up the candlestick. "Stand back."

He walked into the room, and I saw the trail of blood he left. It was partly his—a deep gash down the middle of his chest oozed dark red.

"Alec?" I whispered, recalling the man who had stood against Kane for my sake.

Kane's mouth was drawn back, fangs bloody. "Alive," he growled, as if saying the word was a struggle. "Barely."

Relief swept over me, its strength catching me by surprise. I had only recently encountered Alec, and he was my opponent. Still, his demise troubled me more than it should have.

"What do you want?" I repeated, stepping back as Kane came closer.

He took a deep breath, nostrils flaring. "Your smell. it's transforming me."

"I don't understand."

I was a step nearer. My back was against the wall. The candlestick shook in my hand.

"Nor I," he admitted, his voice quavering halfway between man and creature. "But I need to know why."

He sprang at me with unnatural rapidity, flinging the candlestick from my grasp. His body pushed mine back against the wall, not striking, but trapping. He was hot, fever-hot, scorching. His smell enveloped me—ferral, wild, with a strange attraction underlying.

"Let me go," I snarled, pushing against his chest.

His clawed palm circled my wrist, aching but not me, with a hold tight enough that trying to struggle was pointless. I was pulled back to have my palm against his face, kept there as in the cellar when he had placed mine against it.

The touch crackled with electricity through my veins. My breath caught, body reacting treacherously to the closeness of him.

"What are you doing to me?" he growled, looking into my eyes.

"Nothing," I stammered, astonished at how my body had responded. "It's you who—"

His other arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer. In spite of my loathing, in spite of all logic, heat curled up within my stomach. My treacherous heart thudded against my ribcage.

"I should kill you," he said against my face, his voice barely audible. "End your strange hold over me."

I raised my chin in a defiant gesture, refusing to display fear. "Then do it. I'd rather be dead than your captive."

His grasp clamped down briefly, easing. The turmoil within his eyes raged more fiercely—hazel against black, vying for control.

"You've passed the test," he repeated, his voice steadier than before. "No one else has ever done so."

"What does that mean?" I asked, sensitive to the feel of his body against mine.

It means," he said, bending close, the warmth of his breath against my neck, "you're mine now."

I was intending to protest, but his mouth clamped down over my neck. Not a kiss, though my body betrayingly responded as if it had. No, something more primal. His teeth slid along my skin, then nipped in.

Pain cut through me, sudden and agonizing. I cried out, my hands moving to his shoulders to push him away, but they held fast. The pain transformed into a burning sensation that spread from the wound down through my entire body.

"Stop," I managed to stammer, although my voice was hardly firm.

He did not let go. His teeth were still imbedded in my skin, claiming me in some sort of primitive ritual I couldn't comprehend. The searing grew worse, throbbing with waves that had me panting.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes had cleared to hazel completely. Blood—my blood—was on his lips. He looked almost as shocked as I was.

"What have you done?" I asked, running my fingers up the gash on my neck. It throbbed against my touch, bleeding but already starting to heal at a speed that wasn't natural.

"I claimed you," he snarled. "Now your fate is bound to mine."

Anger overwhelmed me, pushing aside strange emotions his touch had evoked. "You had no right!"

"I had the right,"he snarled," holding me fast against the wall. You are the key to breaking the curse. You are mine now."

"I am owned by no one," I ground out, bucking against the grip. "Least of all the monster who killed my people!"

A fleeting expression of something, more a nod of acknowledgment than remorse, crossed his face. "I need you," he commented drily. "And until I find out why, you're not leaving."

He released me abruptly, stepping back. His pulling away left me strangely bereft, although I'd never admit it.

The mark means that you are under my protection," he tilted his head towards my neck. "No one from this pack will harm you."

"How thoughtful of the man who murdered my entire pack," I sneered.

Kane's jaw was tight. "Hate me all you wish, Rain, but you're mine anyway. The mark sees to it." His gaze fell to where I had a throbbing bite mark near my neck. "But I cannot yet have you completely."

"And you will never have me, nor I, you!" I swore, even as my body shuddered with new sensation.

A subtle, amused curve spread over his mouth. "Your body disagrees."

My face was blazing hot. "Get out."

To my surprise, he stepped towards the door. "Rest," he commanded. "Tomorrow we begin to uncover what you are."

"What I am is your prisoner," I said.

He hesitated for a moment, looking over his shoulder. "For now." His eyes swept again up and down my form, lingering for a moment on the mark he'd left. "At eighteen, you'll be a great deal more than that."

The proposal gave me a chill down my spine—half fear, half something else which I could not admit.

"The full moon isn't over," I said, glancing at the silver light still streaming in through the window. "How are you handling it?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I believe it is something to do with that." He nodded towards the mark on my neck. "Sleep tight, little flame. Our journey only just begins."

He disappeared down the corridor, while I was left standing there alone with the broken door and the searing feeling down my throat. I fell to the ground, tracing with my fingers the shape of the already scarred bite mark—a mark that seemed to reach beyond the flesh, deep into the marrow of my being. I was marked by Kane. And strangely, against all logic, my body had accepted it.