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Caleb's POV
The forest path stretched on endlessly, swallowed by darkness as the thick canopy overhead blotted out the moonlight. Caleb led Elena forward, his steps careful but urgent, ears tuned to every rustle of leaves and crack of branches. Victor's appearance had been unexpected, and he couldn't shake the unease simmering in his chest. If Victor was bold enough to confront them so openly, it meant he was closing in.
He glanced over his shoulder. Elena was keeping up as best she could, but he could see the exhaustion weighing on her. She stumbled over a root and caught herself with a frustrated huff.
"Let's take a break," Caleb said suddenly, stopping by a clearing where the moonlight poured through a gap in the trees.
Elena didn't argue. She sank onto a moss-covered log, pulling her knees to her chest and taking deep breaths. Caleb scanned the surroundings before crouching in front of her. His sharp eyes traced her features, noting the strain etched into her face.
"We're close to the safehouse," he murmured. "Just another hour."
She let out a humorless laugh, her voice trembling. "You keep saying that, but I swear we've been walking for hours. My legs are about to give out."
Caleb's lips twitched into a faint smirk. "You'll make it."
Her eyes narrowed at him. "Easy for you to say. You've got… wolf stamina or whatever."
Caleb's brow arched. "Wolf stamina?"
"You know what I mean," she grumbled.
The brief exchange eased the tension between them, but Caleb's mind remained elsewhere. He couldn't let his guard down. Not now.
"Here," he said, shrugging off his leather jacket. "It's cold."
Elena blinked as he held it out to her. "Won't you need it?"
"I'll be fine."
She hesitated for a moment before taking the jacket and slipping it on. It was warm, and his scent—earthy and wild—wrapped around her like a blanket. She looked small in it, and something in Caleb's chest tightened at the sight.
"Caleb…" she started softly, staring at the ground. "That man—Victor. Why did he call me 'marked'?"
He exhaled sharply, dropping to sit on a rock a few feet away. He had hoped to avoid this conversation until they reached the safehouse, but Elena wasn't one to let things slide.
"It's not something I can explain easily," Caleb said, choosing his words carefully. "There are… ancient stories in my pack. Stories of humans who are chosen—or marked—by forces beyond our understanding. Victor thinks you're one of them."
"Chosen for what?" she pressed, her voice tight with fear.
"Power," Caleb admitted. "Some believe the marked are conduits for old magic. They hold the key to unlocking abilities that have been buried for centuries. Abilities that could tip the balance of power between packs."
Elena paled. "Magic? That's impossible."
"Impossible?" Caleb let out a dry chuckle. "You just watched a man turn into a wolf and back again. Does anything really seem impossible anymore?"
Her lips parted, but no words came out. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself as if trying to hold the world together.
"Look," Caleb said, his tone softer now, "I don't know why Victor thinks you're marked, but he's convinced you're important. That makes you a target, Elena. Until we know more, you need to stick with me and trust that I can keep you safe."
She looked at him, her blue eyes searching his face. "Why are you doing this, Caleb? Why do you care?"
The question struck him like a blow, and for a moment, he didn't know how to answer. Why did he care? He had told himself it was duty—responsibility as alpha to protect his territory and everyone in it. But when he looked at her, fragile yet strong, vulnerable yet stubborn, he felt something deeper tugging at him.
"Because it's the right thing to do," he finally said. It was the safest answer, though not the whole truth.
Elena didn't look convinced, but she let it go.
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Elena's POV
They reached the safehouse just as her legs were about to give up entirely. The cabin was small and hidden at the base of a rocky slope, its rough wooden exterior blending perfectly with the wilderness around it. A thin plume of smoke rose from a chimney, and Elena glanced at Caleb warily.
"Someone's here?"
Caleb didn't look surprised. "They're friends. My pack."
She froze. "Your pack?"
Before he could answer, the door creaked open, and two figures emerged. The first was a woman, tall and lean, her dark hair tied back in a braid. Her sharp green eyes studied Elena with open curiosity.
The second figure was a young man—no older than twenty—with shaggy brown hair and a mischievous grin.
"Well, well," the young man drawled, his gaze flicking between Caleb and Elena. "I didn't expect you to bring home a guest, Alpha."
"Knock it off, Mason," Caleb muttered.
The woman stepped forward, her tone brisk. "I'm Lila. You must be Elena."
Elena nodded hesitantly. "Hi."
Lila's gaze swept over her, and something in her expression softened. "You've been through a lot, haven't you? Come inside. It's warmer."
Caleb motioned for Elena to follow him, and she stepped into the cabin. The interior was simple but cozy, with a stone fireplace crackling on one side and worn furniture scattered around. It smelled faintly of pine and something she couldn't quite place—something earthy and familiar.
Mason flopped onto a couch, watching her with open curiosity. "So, you're the human Victor's been after, huh?"
Elena froze mid-step, her heart pounding. "What?"
"Mason," Caleb snapped, his voice sharp.
"What?" Mason shrugged. "She deserves to know what's at stake."
Elena's throat tightened. "What's at stake?"
Caleb turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "Victor won't stop, Elena. Not until he gets what he wants. But we'll figure this out. You're safe here."
She wasn't so sure. The warmth of the cabin and the presence of Caleb's pack didn't ease the gnawing fear in her chest. Victor's words echoed in her mind: She's marked.
What did that mean? And why did she have the sinking feeling that her life was about to get even more complicated?
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