Chapter 4 THE MARK OF THE BASTARD

The sound of my heartbeat is the first thing I hear.

Not the wind.

Not the voices outside.

Not even the faint howls echoing from the forest.

Just my heartbeat.

Slow. Heavy. Dreadful.

It feels like my own chest is warning me-run.

But my feet won't move.

Because Rowan Blackthorne is standing in front of me...

and for the first time since I've seen him, he looks dangerous.

Not intimidating.

Not cold.

Not arrogant.

Dangerous.

His eyes glow with a shade of gold I've never seen before-like fire trapped behind glass.

"You disobeyed an Alpha," Rowan says quietly. "You challenged my command in front of others."

I swallow hard. "I–I just didn't want them hurting him-"

"And that," he cuts in, stepping closer, "makes you a problem."

My pulse stutters.

He's so close I can feel the heat radiating from his skin. Something ancient stirs in him-the same thing that rippled through the pack earlier.

Something the others fear.

Something I should fear.

"Tell me, Evelyn," Rowan murmurs, tilting his head, "do you enjoy tempting death?"

"I don't-" I take a step back, but his hand shoots out, gripping my wrist.

Not hard.

Not painful.

But enough to tell me that there is no escape.

"You do," he says, voice dropping lower. "You pretend you don't, but you do. You like pushing me. Testing me. Defying me."

His fingers tighten.

"You make me feel things I shouldn't feel," he whispers.

Something cold rushes through me-and yet heat blooms beneath my skin.

"What things?" I ask before I can stop myself.

His jaw flexes.

"That's the problem."

He drags me closer until there's barely a breath between us.

Then he lets go abruptly, like touching me burned him.

"I shouldn't have taken you in," he mutters. "You were supposed to be irrelevant. Quiet. Invisible."

"And now?" I ask, voice trembling.

His eyes flick to mine-dark, hungry, conflicted.

"Now you're becoming a threat to everything I swore to protect."

His words hit harder than a slap.

"What threat?" I whisper.

Rowan laughs-a low, humorless sound.

"You don't understand the kind of danger that comes with me. With my curse. With my bloodline." His gaze drops to my throat. "You shouldn't even be standing this close."

I force myself not to step back.

"Then explain it to me," I say.

"Because I am tired of being kept in the dark."

For a moment, I think he will.

His lips part...

but then his expression shutters, and he shakes his head.

"No."

"Why not?" I demand.

"Because," he growls, stepping away from me, "if you knew what I really am, you would run from this pack and never look back."

I swallow the lump forming in my throat.

"Try me."

Rowan freezes.

Then, slowly, he turns his head and looks at me-really looks at me-as if searching my soul for something.

He must not find it... because his expression hardens into cold iron.

"You think you're ready for the truth?" he says softly.

"You're not."

Before I can answer, a voice screams from outside.

"ALPHA!"

Rowan stiffens and storms toward the door.

I follow, even when he snarls for me to stay put.

Outside, the pack stands in a tense half-circle.

Two warriors drag a half-dead rogue wolf between them-fur matted with blood, limbs trembling.

When the rogue's eyes lift, I gasp.

He's not looking at Rowan.

He's looking at me.

"She carries it..."

The rogue wheezes, coughing blood.

"She carries... the mark..."

Every wolf goes still.

Even Rowan.

"What mark?" Rowan demands.

The rogue's gaze locks onto mine-wild, terrified.

"The mark of the cursed bloodline. She... she carries the scent..."

My breath catches as every pair of eyes in the pack shifts toward me.

Whispers break out.

"The cursed bloodline?"

"Impossible."

"She's human."

"She shouldn't have any scent at all."

Rowan steps in front of me, voice like a blade.

"Say one more word," he snarls at the rogue, "and I'll rip your throat out."

The rogue only laughs-broken, hysterical.

"You can't hide her... Alpha... They already know... they're coming..."

Rowan moves so fast I don't even see him shift.

One second the rogue is speaking.

The next second-Rowan's claws slash.

Blood hits the snow.

The rogue collapses.

Silence falls over the clearing.

Everyone freezes as Rowan turns back toward me-his chest rising and falling, his eyes blazing with something like panic... and possession.

"Inside," he orders.

I open my mouth, but his growl cuts through me.

"INSIDE, EVELYN."

The pack jumps at the command.

I stumble backward into his cabin as he slams the door behind us.

He drags both hands through his hair, pacing like a trapped beast.

"What is happening?" I whisper.

He doesn't answer.

I take a step forward. "Rowan-"

"Don't touch me."

His voice is sharp, broken.

"Not right now."

I flinch.

And that-that-snaps something in him.

In two strides he's in front of me again, gripping my shoulders.

"Listen to me," he says, voice shaking with restrained fury.

"You will not leave this cabin. You will not speak to anyone. You will not open the door for ANYONE but me."

I swallow. "Rowan, you're scaring me."

"Good," he whispers.

"You should be scared."

My stomach twists.

"Why are they saying I carry a mark?" I ask.

"What mark?"

He hesitates.

His eyes flicker.

Something inside him breaks open-guilt or grief or fear-I can't tell.

But he whispers it anyway.

"Because, Evelyn..."

He looks at me like I am both salvation and doom.

"Your scent matches the one thing I've spent my whole life trying to destroy."

My heart stops.

"What thing?"

And he says it, voice barely audible.

"My curse."

I stare at him, breath frozen.

"What does that mean?"

Rowan closes his eyes, jaw clenched.

"It means," he