Chapter 24: Mark Me
Gareth sighed, his eyes fixed on the side of the road.
I don’t want to leave, he thought as he glanced toward the driver’s seat. Why do I have to go home?
Sure, Lynsandra wasn’t in the harem right now, but that was fine with him. Aside from her sadistic tendency to spoil the books he was reading, it was something he would rather endure than spend a few days back at the pack house.
But somehow, his father was asking him to come home.
"Hmm?" he hummed, turning toward the window on the other side.
Gareth narrowed his eyes, catching sight of someone leaning against a motorbike on the opposite side of the bridge their vehicle was crossing. The man had his back to Gareth’s lane, but he looked familiar.
"Didn’t he leave?" he murmured. "Why is Elias Hale here?"
Curious, Gareth noticed another vehicle moving slowly through traffic on the opposite side. And there, he recognized it immediately.
August’s.
"Are they... going back to the mansion?"
Gareth pressed his lips into a thin line and slowly shifted his gaze back to the driver.
Should I... also say I can’t go?
*****
The silence in the mansion was deafening; a pin drop could echo throughout the vast structure. Lynsandra made her way toward the back of the mansion barefoot, wearing nothing but a silk robe.
The sky had begun to darken, and she knew it was only a matter of time before the full moon shone brightly in the sky—selfish and unrelenting. While others looked forward to it, she couldn’t care less anymore.
Her steps slowed, her eyes settling on the flowing river within the mansion’s territory. She could feel her wolf’s worry; those silent warnings Enlly had grown tired of repeating. But none of it... could change what was to come.
"It’s cold," she whispered, dipping half her fingers into the gently streaming water. "I’ll be all right, Enlly."
Her eyes softened as she finally spoke her wolf’s name—the name she felt she didn’t deserve to utter. "It’s just going to be another stubborn full moon."
As her voice faded, Lynsandra loosened the straps of her silk robe. The thin fabric slipped over her shoulders, sliding down to the bend of her elbows, revealing the body long hidden beneath layers of elegant dresses and restraint.
As she tugged the silk from her sleeves, her wolf’s warning echoed in her mind.
[Lynsandra, this isn’t just about my survival. It’s about yours. You’ve survived every full moon until now, but we both know it gets worse each time. And it’s only a matter of time before the moon takes you.]
It wasn’t that she was ignoring Enlly. These were things her wolf had said before, especially the last part. And yet, Lynsandra had lived.
Still, deep in her heart, she knew she had barely survived the last full moon. And with each cycle growing worse, every part of her screamed for help.
Even so, with no one around, even if she howled until her throat bled, no one would hear her.
She knew that... from experience.
Her body slipped into the river until the water reached above her chest. It was cold—cold enough to temper the heat already rising within her. With the current flowing steadily, Lynsandra propped herself against a rock, lowering her body until she lay fully submerged.
She rested her head against the riverbed, her eyes fixed on the rapidly darkening sky.
"..."
Lynsandra drew a deep breath, resignation clouding her gaze.
She remained like that in silence, her eyes never leaving the sky until darkness swallowed it whole. The mansion, now empty, had no lights burning. Her only source of illumination was the moon, partially obscured by slow-moving clouds.
"It’s... here," she whispered as more of the moon revealed itself.
Slowly, she let her body sink deeper until she was completely underwater. She kept her eyes open beneath the surface until suddenly, her heart slammed violently against her chest.
Pain exploded through her body, as if every nerve ruptured with that single heartbeat.
Instinctively, Lynsandra clutched her chest as her heart pounded again, harder this time. The sound of flowing water dulled in her ears as her body scraped against the rocks. With each beat, the pain intensified, spreading mercilessly to the end of her nerves.
When she could no longer endure it, a scream tore from her throat, but it was muffled by the water. The river around her slowly turned red as her claws ripped through her own skin in desperation.
"Hah..."
Minutes later, Lynsandra’s hand broke the surface, fingers digging into the riverbed.
She dragged herself up, bruised and scraped by both rocks and her own claws. Her breathing was heavy and jagged as she collapsed onto the grass, palms and knees trembling beneath her.
"Ahh..." a weak whimper escaped her, her entire body still throbbing. "This..."
This was worse... as expected.
For a fleeting moment, her wolf’s form overlapped with her own, but she couldn’t fully shift. And with her body burning in heat and pain, that failure cut into her like knives stabbing her from every direction.
"Ah!"
Lynsandra collapsed onto her elbow like a wounded animal, her hair falling aside to reveal a glowing red mark just beneath her nape.
It was the mark of her curse, and it was larger than when it had first appeared.
And the brighter this mark glowed, the greater the pain became.
Lynsandra reached for her nape with her claws, trying to tear the mark from her flesh in a futile attempt to rid herself of the agony. Blood splattered around her, soaking her hand, yet even as her screams echoed through the night, no one came.
No matter how much she slammed herself against the ground, pulled at her hair, clawed at her skin, or struck her head, it barely relieved her of the pain. Inside her, everything burned. Her blood felt like molten lava, her breath fogging in front of her cracked, pale lips.
Seconds stretched into minutes, and minutes into hours.
And still, the pain felt eternal.
Lynsandra didn’t know how long it had been since the agony began, nor was she in any state of clarity. Driven by desperation, she found herself throwing her body against the doors of the chapel within the mansion.
She leaned heavily against them—her hair clumped and wet, her skin pale, her body smeared with blood, dirt, and bruises.
Summoning what little strength she had left, she dragged herself inside, her gaze locking onto the beautiful statue bathed in moonlight. Even with her vision spinning, she could still see its grace.
But halfway to the altar, her knees buckled.
"Just take me," she whispered weakly, her vision blurring, her thoughts unraveling. "Take me!"
She slammed her fist against the floor, blood dripping from her knuckles.
"Just..." her voice cracked as tears fell, splashing onto the marble floor. "...take me."
Every full moon, Lynsandra didn’t just endure pain. Every full moon, she was also brutally honest with herself.
She didn’t want this anymore.
She was done fighting.
"Just take me," she whispered again, biting her lip as her forehead touched the floor. "Please..."
Her strength finally gave out, and she collapsed onto the ground. Her eyes remained half-open, her vision unfocused. Her ears rang, her body still wracked with pain.
And yet, somehow, amid all of this, she saw a pair of shoes approaching.
If she were in her right mind, she would have lunged up and choked whoever the unlucky bastard was who had witnessed her at her most vulnerable.
But all she could do was reach out and grasp the person’s chest when he finally crouched beside her.
Slowly, Lynsandra turned her head, unable to clearly see his face. Even so, she could feel his gaze on her.
Her lips trembled as her grip tightened desperately, her voice barely audible as she whispered,
"Mark... me."
