MARKED FOR PRETEND - Chapter 26: Chapter 26

She couldn’t sleep,the nights stretched longer,the air felt tighter. The east wing was too quiet. Not peaceful, just… still. Like the walls were listening. Something in the air crackled. Even the torches along the corridor wouldn’t stay lit for long. And the moon… the moon wouldn’t leave her alone. It watched her through the windows, it followed her in reflections. It called to her like it knew something she didn’t.
⸻
Kael was quieter.He was still protective, still near,but distant.
He wouldn’t look at her too long.
He wouldn't touch her hand when it brushed his, wouldn't say the words sitting behind his eyes.
Kaden had returned too—stern, sharp, unreadable.She tries to go about her day, but:
No Mira,Kael is distant,the beta and delta avoid her eyes, one servant even drops a tray when she passes.
It was the way they looked at her. Like they’d seen something in a dream, and it had followed them into the waking world.
They didn't speak of the night Kael slept beside her.
Didn’t speak of the vow he made.
“I’ll never let them touch you.”
They didn’t speak of anything, really.
Because Chelsea had begun to feel everything.
The mark on her wrist pulsed like it had its own heartbeat.
Sometimes, she woke to see it glowing faintly.
Once, she touched it and the torch near her sparked brighter.
She didn’t tell anyone.
In his study, Kaden is pacing while Kael is restless. Dax enters.
DAX: “You feel it too, don’t you?”
KADEN: “The silence?”
DAX: “Not silence. Pressure. Like the pack is bracing for something.”
Kael stirs in the back of his mind.
“She’s waking up,” Kael said. “And the world will feel it.”
⸻
And then… the whispers began.
In the halls. In the guard towers.
In the forest.
“She’s changing.”
“The girl the scroll chose.”
“The moon is preparing for something.”
She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror one morning and swore she saw glitters dancing in her hair, just for a second.
Her eyes were brighter, her skin warmer.
Even her voice sounded like it echoed when she spoke.
Something was happening.
And everyone felt it.
In her room, she lit a candle.
It flickered once. Then—fwoom—the flame burned blue.
She stared at it, waited, blinked, still blue.
The wax hissed like it had a secret to tell.
Chelsea exhaled through her nose and turned toward the door. Her fingers brushed the handle—
Snap.
She yelped and shook her hand. A jolt. A sharp, startling bite of heat.
Down the hall, one of the younger maids passed her with folded linens and paused.
“We’ve had…” she hesitated, biting her lower lip. “Static in the air today. Maybe a storm.”
Chelsea nodded slowly, her skin crawling beneath her robe.
But Chelsea knew. Storms didn’t crawl under your skin like that, storms didn’t burn behind your eyes, storms didn’t hum in your bones.
Something else was coming.
⸻
At breakfast the next morning, Kaden passed her in the hall.
Their shoulders brushed.
And her mark flared.
His steps stopped mid-motion,so did hers.
He turned. Their eyes locked.
He didn’t speak.
But she felt it again—that pull.The one that made her chest ache and her breath tremble.
She opened her mouth.
He shook his head.
And walked away.
⸻
That night, she sat by the window.
“Why now?” she whispered.
The wind didn’t answer,but the moon rose brighter than ever.
She stood still in the corridor, remembering.
“Your birthday isn’t just a day, child,” the witch had whispered long ago, brushing burnt curls from her cheeks.
“It’s a door. And someday, it will open.”She always thought it meant grief.
Because that was the day the witch died.The fire. The ashes.
She never thought the door would open inside her.
⸻
That night, she couldn’t sleep.
Not with her thoughts crowding her. Not with the way her body felt—like something was waiting. Coiled.
Chelsea wrapped herself in her cloak and stepped barefoot onto the stone balcony again. The air was sharp, too still.
Above, the moon wasn’t full. Not yet.
But it was staring right at her.
And then—
BOOM.
A sound like a distant bell exploding.
• The ground trembled, a pulse knocked birds from trees, glasses from the eastern hallway shattered inward, as if the building had inhaled.
• And the sky—
It rippled. Just once. Like water under a thrown stone.
Chelsea stumbled back into her room, heart pounding in her throat.
She reached for her bedpost to steady herself—
Then came the knock.
Not loud,just once.
Tap.
She opened the door slowly.
Kael.
But… not quite.
His eyes were lit, but distant. The angles of his face seemed sharper, the air around him heavier—thicker.
Not Kaden.
Not entirely Kael.
Something in-between.
His voice was low and too still to be just a man’s:
“Lock your door tonight.”
“You wake tomorrow—but not as you are.”
She stared at him.
A part of her wanted to say, Oh, great. You ignored me all day just to show up now and issue orders?
But her throat wouldn’t work.
The weight of his words wasn’t just threat. It was truth.
He stepped back, disappearing into shadow before she could ask him anything.
She turned.
Closed the door, locked it.
Her legs barely carried her to the desk where she kept the old paper calendar the witch used to mark feast days and herb cycles.
She flipped to the date, running her fingertip over the bold circle she had drawn months ago—her birthday.
She had counted the days for so long… she forgot it was already tomorrow.
She stared at the glowing mark on her wrist.
It was no longer just warm.
It was alive.
The door had started to open.