Marked by the Night Prince

The streets were quiet that night. Too quiet.

Aria Hale walked fast, clutching the strap of her old bag as cold air brushed against her cheeks. She had worked late again at the diner, wiping down tables until her wrists ached. The extra pay would help with the bills at home, but it left her tired, hungry, and wishing for a warm bed.

The route home was always the same. Past the closed bookstore, past the church with its crooked cross, three blocks to the small apartment she shared with her mother. Familiar. Safe.

Or at least, it used to feel that way.

Tonight, something felt wrong. The air was heavy, and the streets were empty. Too empty. Even the usual hum of the city felt far away.

She glanced behind her. No one.

"Stop it, Aria," she muttered. "You're just tired."

Her phone buzzed. A message from her mother: Don't stay up too late. Lock the door.

A small smile tugged at her lips. She texted back: Almost home. Love you.

She put her phone away and froze.

A sound. Faint. Like a shoe scraping wet pavement.

Her heart skipped. "Hello?" she called out, trying to sound brave.

No answer.

She picked up her pace. The shortcut alley near the church was just ahead. It saved her a few minutes every night. Tonight, her gut told her to stay on the main road. But her feet turned into the alley anyway.

Halfway through, the streetlight at the other end flickered and went dark.

Aria stopped breathing for a moment. The air felt colder now, and her skin prickled.

Another sound. A soft step.

She spun around. A figure was standing there. Tall. Still. Wrong.

His coat was dark, his hood low, but his eyes glowed faintly red, like dying embers.

"Out late, aren't you?" he said, voice smooth and quiet.

Her throat went dry. "I... I don't have anything you want," she said quickly. "Take my bag."

He smiled. It was not a kind smile. "I'm not here for your bag."

Before she could move, he was in front of her, faster than her eyes could follow. His hand clamped over her mouth, ice cold and strong.

"I promise," he whispered near her ear, "this won't take long."

Pain stabbed into her neck. Sharp. Burning. Her whole body jolted as fire rushed through her veins. Her fingers clawed at his arm, but her strength was slipping away.

He's drinking my blood.

Her vision blurred. Her heartbeat thundered and slowed. She felt herself falling, until a roar ripped through the night.

It was not a man's voice. And it was not human.

The stranger hissed and let her go. Aria stumbled to the ground, her hands wet with her own blood.

Something moved at the mouth of the alley. Big, fast, and glowing with golden eyes. A wolf. Massive. Its fur silver gray, its teeth bared.

The man snarled. The wolf lunged.

They clashed in a blur of claws and fangs. Shadows tangled in the dark, too fast for her to follow.

Aria crawled back, heart pounding. Run, her mind screamed, but her body would not listen.

The wolf turned toward her. Its golden eyes locked on hers. It was huge, powerful, terrifying... and yet, for some reason, she did not scream.

It stepped closer and pressed its muzzle against her shoulder. Heat spread through her skin, crawling deep into her bones like fire.

She gasped as something burned into her, like a mark. A bond.

Then a rough voice, deep and certain, rumbled in her mind:

"Mine."

Before she could even understand, another voice cut through the dark, cold and sharp:

"She's mine."

The world spun. The last thing she saw was the silver wolf and the pale man colliding again, the alley filling with shadows and growls.

Then, darkness.