MARKED FOR PRETEND - Chapter 28: Chapter 28
You are reading MARKED FOR PRETEND, Chapter 28: Chapter 28. Read more chapters of MARKED FOR PRETEND.
The moon pulsed once more, brighter than before. It was no longer watching—it was summoning.
Chelsea felt it deep in her bones. Not pain. Not even fear. Just… inevitability.
Something had shifted,something ancient had stirred. Something that had been sleeping inside her blood all this time. something ancient,and she wasn't the only one who felt it.
Not like a traditional shift, not bones cracking and howls echoing into the night.
No, this was something else.
It was like a smooth unraveling—like silk turning inside out.
Her body shimmered, peeled back in waves of white light. The fur that emerged was not coarse—but soft, glowing, ethereal. Her form stood taller than any wolf she’d seen in Duskveil, regal and unbothered by the wind that howled around her.
She didn’t shift into a wolf, she became the wolf.
Not just a wolf.
A white wolf.
One of its kind,rare,revered.The kind spoken of in low whispers—healers, harbingers, legends.
The kind known not for war… but for healing. For prophecy. For power.
And Chelsea—timid, hidden, mocked Chelsea—had become a beacon wrapped in fur and moonlight.
Somewhere far from duskveil, a boot crushed moss beneath it in a silent forest. A man cloaked in shadows raised his face to the sky, his ink-black eyes gleaming at the light.
He looked up.
His eyes, ink-black, widened at the glow across the sky. “It’s begun,” “She’s awoken,” he breathed, reaching into his coat to unroll a parchment of old skin.then reached into his coat and retrieved a scroll wrapped in skin.
“The bloodline didn’t die after all,” he said, smirking.
His companion stepped out of the trees.
“They said she’d never shift.”
“She did,” he replied. “And now we don’t need her permission. We just need her blood.”
In a shadowed castle,miles across the continent, a woman sat in a throne carved from obsidian, stroking a white-furred animal in her lap. Its eyes glowed with unnatural light.
When the ripple hit, she paused.
So did the creature.
Then slowly, the queen smiled. “The girl has awakened.”
A hooded advisor stepped forward. “Shall we prepare the vessels?”
“No,” she said. “Let the fools chase her for blood. But I will take the girl whole. We won’t just rule with her power—we’ll rule through her.” She will be our crown.
Back in Duskveil, Kael stood at the edge of the forest, his massive white form outlined in moonlight.He didn’t move, neither did he speak.
But his presence pressed against the forest like gravity itself, inside the mind they shared, Kael whispered:
“She’s no longer just a girl,” he whispered into the tether between him and Kaden.
“She’s what the stars have been waiting for.”
Chelsea stood at her balcony, naked in her skin once more, the wind kissing damp trails of sweat down her back.
Her shift had ended. But everything else was just beginning.
She could still feel the hum in the glass panes. The charge in the air. The thrum beneath her skin.
She didn’t feel afraid, she felt… clear.
Whole.
The moon was not full—but she was.
And far beyond the packhouse walls, forces moved.
Some wanted to worship her.
Others wanted to destroy her.
But more dangerous than either…
Were the ones who wanted to use her.
Chelsea felt it deep in her bones. Not pain. Not even fear. Just… inevitability.
Something had shifted,something ancient had stirred. Something that had been sleeping inside her blood all this time. something ancient,and she wasn't the only one who felt it.
Not like a traditional shift, not bones cracking and howls echoing into the night.
No, this was something else.
It was like a smooth unraveling—like silk turning inside out.
Her body shimmered, peeled back in waves of white light. The fur that emerged was not coarse—but soft, glowing, ethereal. Her form stood taller than any wolf she’d seen in Duskveil, regal and unbothered by the wind that howled around her.
She didn’t shift into a wolf, she became the wolf.
Not just a wolf.
A white wolf.
One of its kind,rare,revered.The kind spoken of in low whispers—healers, harbingers, legends.
The kind known not for war… but for healing. For prophecy. For power.
And Chelsea—timid, hidden, mocked Chelsea—had become a beacon wrapped in fur and moonlight.
Somewhere far from duskveil, a boot crushed moss beneath it in a silent forest. A man cloaked in shadows raised his face to the sky, his ink-black eyes gleaming at the light.
He looked up.
His eyes, ink-black, widened at the glow across the sky. “It’s begun,” “She’s awoken,” he breathed, reaching into his coat to unroll a parchment of old skin.then reached into his coat and retrieved a scroll wrapped in skin.
“The bloodline didn’t die after all,” he said, smirking.
His companion stepped out of the trees.
“They said she’d never shift.”
“She did,” he replied. “And now we don’t need her permission. We just need her blood.”
In a shadowed castle,miles across the continent, a woman sat in a throne carved from obsidian, stroking a white-furred animal in her lap. Its eyes glowed with unnatural light.
When the ripple hit, she paused.
So did the creature.
Then slowly, the queen smiled. “The girl has awakened.”
A hooded advisor stepped forward. “Shall we prepare the vessels?”
“No,” she said. “Let the fools chase her for blood. But I will take the girl whole. We won’t just rule with her power—we’ll rule through her.” She will be our crown.
Back in Duskveil, Kael stood at the edge of the forest, his massive white form outlined in moonlight.He didn’t move, neither did he speak.
But his presence pressed against the forest like gravity itself, inside the mind they shared, Kael whispered:
“She’s no longer just a girl,” he whispered into the tether between him and Kaden.
“She’s what the stars have been waiting for.”
Chelsea stood at her balcony, naked in her skin once more, the wind kissing damp trails of sweat down her back.
Her shift had ended. But everything else was just beginning.
She could still feel the hum in the glass panes. The charge in the air. The thrum beneath her skin.
She didn’t feel afraid, she felt… clear.
Whole.
The moon was not full—but she was.
And far beyond the packhouse walls, forces moved.
Some wanted to worship her.
Others wanted to destroy her.
But more dangerous than either…
Were the ones who wanted to use her.
End of MARKED FOR PRETEND Chapter 28. Continue reading Chapter 29 or return to MARKED FOR PRETEND book page.