Chapter 3 The pull

Keisha couldn't sleep.

The silver mark on her skin still pulsed, even hours after she'd first noticed it. It didn't hurt, but it felt... alive. Like it was breathing with her. Like it had a heartbeat of its own.

She kept staring at it in the mirror.

A soft, glowing symbol. Curved lines, almost like a crescent moon with a star in the center. She'd never seen anything like it. It hadn't been there yesterday. And now, it wouldn't go away.

And every time she touched it, she saw him.

Damian Grey.

It wasn't like dreaming. It was faster, more intense like a flash behind her eyes. Rain. Heat. Hands. His voice in her mind.

"You're mine."

Keisha closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath. She wasn't ready for this. Whatever this was. She had spent years trying to keep her life small, safe, quiet. Now, a stranger with wolf eyes and a voice like thunder was tearing through every wall she'd built.

And somehow... her body didn't want him to stop.

In the morning, Kristy was already up, sitting cross-legged on the couch with her laptop open and a spoonful of cereal halfway to her mouth.

"Okay," she said the moment Keisha walked in, "I stayed up till three researching blood markings, soul bonds, and get this lunar-touched humans."

Keisha blinked. "What?"

Kristy pointed at her screen. "It's rare, but it's a thing. There are stories of humans born with moon-marked blood. Most don't survive childhood because the power is unstable. But if they live past eighteen, they can trigger bonds with wolves-stronger than normal mate bonds. It's like a super-charged fate."

Keisha stared. "And you think that's me?"

Kristy shrugged. "You've got a glowing mark and dream visions. I mean... yeah."

Keisha sat slowly. "What happens in those stories?"

Kristy hesitated. "Some end in love. Most end in war."

Later that day, Keisha walked through the park near the bookstore, hoping a little fresh air would calm her nerves. The sun was out, the grass was green, and kids were playing on the swings. Everything looked normal.

But she didn't feel normal.

The wind carried a scent she couldn't place something deep and woodsy, like pine smoke and rain. Her pulse sped up. Her legs moved faster.

He was near.

She didn't know how she knew. She just did.

Then she saw him.

Damian stood under a tree, wearing a black jacket and dark jeans, hands in his pockets. He wasn't smiling. He never did. But his eyes softened when they met hers.

She stopped a few feet away. "You shouldn't be here."

"I told you," he said quietly. "I can't stay away."

Keisha's fingers curled into fists. "You came into my dreams. You left a mark on me."

"I didn't do that," he said. "The bond did. It's not something I control."

She swallowed. "Why me?"

Damian stepped closer. His voice dropped. "Because you were born with power in your blood. The wolves feel it. I feel it. And if I felt it, so will others."

"Others like you?"

"No," he said. "Others like Lucien."

Keisha's heart stuttered.

She'd heard his name only once, in Damian's warning. But the way he said it now made her skin crawl.

"Who is he?"

"An alpha," Damian said. "Older than me. Crueler. He'll charm you first. Then he'll use you."

Keisha shook her head. "Why would anyone want to use me?"

"Because your blood can do more than bond," he said. "It can control."

She blinked. "Control what?"

"Pack law. Power hierarchies. Even rage. Your blood is old magic. And it scares them."

"And you?" she asked. "Do I scare you?"

Damian stepped so close she had to tilt her head to keep his eyes.

"No," he said softly. "You undo me."

That night, Keisha lay awake again.

But this time, the dream came faster.

She stood in a forest, moonlight glowing on her skin. The trees whispered her name. And then he was there again, Damian, shirtless, his chest rising and falling, sweat gleaming on his collarbone. His eyes were wild, glowing silver.

He reached for her.

And she didn't run.

She stepped into him.

Their mouths met in a deep, slow kiss that shook her bones. His hands slid under her shirt, claiming her skin like he owned it. She arched into him, aching.

Then

His voice changed.

"Softer than I imagined," the man said.

It wasn't Damian.

It was someone else.

His touch was silk, not fire.

Keisha's eyes flew open.

Lucien.

She sat bolt upright in bed, chest heaving. The dream had changed again and now there were two.

Damian and Lucien.

Fire and ice.

At the same moment, far across the city, Lucien Devereaux leaned back in his chair, eyes glowing gold.

He had reached her.

Finally,

Her dreams were his now, too.

He could feel her hunger. Her fear. Her heat.

He licked his lips and smiled.

She was delicious.

In the morning, Kristy stared at her from across the breakfast table.

"You look like someone kissed you in your sleep."

Keisha groaned. "Can dreams get more confusing?"

Kristy pushed a glass of orange juice toward her. "Talk."

"I dreamed about him again," Keisha said. "But then... it wasn't him. Someone else took over. Someone colder."

Kristy narrowed her eyes. "Describe him."

"Tall. Blonde. French accent. Gold eyes."

Kristy dropped her spoon. "Lucien Devereaux."

"You know him?"

Kristy looked very serious now. "I don't know him. But I've heard the name. He's old money, old bloodline. Pack leader. Has a history of hunting rare humans."

Keisha's blood ran cold. "And now he's in my head."

Kristy stood and grabbed her keys. "That's it. We're going to see someone."

Keisha followed her to a small house outside the city. An older woman opened the door-tall, dark-skinned, with silver hair braided down her back and wise, sharp eyes.

"Kristy Baker," the woman said. "I figured you'd come eventually."

"This is Keisha," Kristy said quickly. "She needs help."

The woman looked Keisha over carefully.

"You've been marked."

Keisha touched her collarbone. "You can see it?"

"Anyone with a true eye can." She stepped aside. "Come in."

Her name was Mother Rowan, a spiritual healer and former blood tracker. She didn't ask questions, she already knew the answers.

"You've been chosen by two alphas," she said, pouring tea. "That's not common. Not safe either."

Keisha frowned. "I didn't choose anyone."

"No," Mother Rowan said. "But your blood did."

Kristy folded her arms. "What does that mean?"

"It means Keisha's magic is awake. It's pulling the strongest wolves toward her, those with power, those with hunger."

Keisha's voice shook. "What do I do?"

"Choose carefully," the woman said. "One will love you. The other will break you."

That night, Keisha stood at her bedroom window, looking out at the quiet street.

A car sat parked down the block.

She knew it wasn't random.

She walked to her bed, heart pounding, and sat slowly. Her mark burned under her shirt, soft but steady.

There was a knock at the door downstairs.

Not loud.

Just enough to make her blood jump.

She opened it slowly and there he was.

Not Damian.

Lucien.

He stood in a gray coat, blonde hair damp from the rain, his gold eyes glowing under the porch light.

"Bonsoir, Keisha," he said with a soft smile.

"I didn't invite you," she said.

"No," he agreed. "But you dreamed of me."

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

Lucien stepped closer, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers were cold.

"I've waited a long time to find someone like you," he murmured. "And now... I won't let him have you."

Keisha's breath caught.

Lucien leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, slow, soft, dangerous.

Then he was gone, leaving the air colder than before.

Upstairs, Damian stood on the roof across the street, fists clenched at his sides, watching.

He had waited too long.

Now the game had changed.

And he wasn't going to lose her.

Not to him.