Marked by Fang and Fire

Flash Forward Teaser 🥵

Lilly crooked a finger. "On your knees, Salma. Crawl to me."

There was a hesitation, not from resistance, but from pride breaking. Salma obeyed, dropping to all fours and crawling, her eyes glued to the apex of Lilly's thighs where slickness already gathered, glistening under the heat of her own power.

"Remember how I taste?" Lilly purred.

"Every fucking night I dream of it," Salma admitted, voice hoarse.

"Then refresh your memory."

Salma dove in, mouth hot and wet, licking a broad stripe up the center of Lilly's cunt, groaning when her tongue found that sensitive, pulsing nub.

Lilly's head tilted back, a sinful smile curving her lips as she grabbed Salma by the hair. "No teasing, bitch. Eat me like you mean it."

Link watched, his cock already stiff and leaking, his hand gripping the base as he stroked slowly, savoring every sight and sound.

Salma obeyed, her tongue insistent, lapping, sucking, her teeth scraping just enough to sting. She pushed her face deeper, nosing against Lilly's clit while two fingers plunged deep inside, curling perfectly.

Lilly gasped, the jolt of pleasure setting her muscles alight. She pushed Salma harder, grinding against her face. "That's it. Sloppy and nasty, just how I like it."

"Fuck, look at you," Link growled, his voice thick. "Wrecked already and I haven't even touched you yet."

Lilly's eyes, half-lidded with lust, flicked to him. "Don't you dare stop watching. I want you to see me cum on her face."

Salma worked faster, her mouth devouring Lilly's heat, her fingers merciless. The wet, obscene sounds of her tongue mixed with Lilly's growing cries.

"More. Fill me with your fingers. Stretch me."

Salma grunted, adding another finger, then a fourth, stretching Lilly open until she moaned like she was being fucked by more than hands.

"You're so fucking greedy," Link muttered, stroking himself faster.

Lilly shuddered, her legs trembling. "I'm cumming. Fuck, I'm gonna flood your mouth, Salma. Take it. Take everything."

With a sharp cry, Lilly came, her body jerking as her orgasm tore through her, wetness pouring out, soaking Salma's face. Salma lapped at her desperately, swallowing, groaning like a starved animal.

When the tremors eased, Lilly yanked her up by the hair, spit and slick glistening on Salma's chin. "Good little bitch. Sit over there. Don't fucking touch yourself unless I say so."

Salma obeyed, breathless, cheeks flushed.

Lilly turned, eyes locked on Link. She pointed to the bed, her voice a growl. "Come here. Now."

Link stood, his cock hard and heavy, precum beading at the tip. He prowled to her, grabbed her roughly by the hips, and kissed her with teeth, with hunger.

"So wet," he hissed. "You let her ruin you for me."

"All for you," Lilly whispered. "Now fuck me. Fuck me so hard she knows I'm yours."

Link didn't hesitate. He spun her, bending her over the bed, and rammed into her with a single, brutal thrust. Lilly screamed, her back arching, her nails clawing the sheets.

"Harder! Break me, Link!"

"You'll take every inch, Flame. You'll take it and fucking beg for more."

He pounded into her, each thrust shaking the bed, the slap of skin on skin echoing. His hands bruised her hips, his pace unforgiving.

"Say it," he growled. "Say who owns this cunt."

Lily

I should've taken the creepy wrought iron gate as a sign. Not just a red flag, but the whole damn marching band. My rideshare driver didn't even wait for me to get both feet out before he sped off, tires screeching as if the forest itself was trying to claw him back. The trees lining the gravel path leaned in like gossiping witches, their gnarled limbs reaching for me with curiosity-or hunger.

The Greyhowl Estate rose from the mist like something pulled from the spine of a Gothic horror novel. Massive, looming, and utterly disinterested in modern life. It didn't welcome me. It assessed me.

"Welcome to the Greyhowl Estate," I whispered to myself. My words vanished in the chilled air, stolen by the fog that curled around my boots like curious snakes.

I tightened my hoodie around my frame and tried not to shake. Not from the cold-no. From something else. The place had a pulse. Not metaphorical, either. I felt it. Like the earth beneath the estate had a heartbeat. And for some stupid reason, mine was syncing to it.

New job. New life. New version of Lily, the one who didn't flinch when men raised their voices or hesitate when making decisions. That's what I told myself. Over and over.

My phone buzzed in my coat pocket.

Marcy [BFF]: You alive? Blink twice if kidnapped by sexy vampires.

Lily: Alive. I think. This place? It's straight out of a cursed fairytale. Like if Dracula and the Beast co-signed a mortgage.

Marcy: Omg STOP. Sexy castle or creepy?

Lily: Both. Very... thick vibes. If I disappear, avenge me.

Before I could hit send, the door creaked open.

A tall woman stepped out. Sharp cheekbones. Impeccable posture. Dressed like a corporate villainess in black-on-black. Her dark eyes skimmed over me like I was a gum stain on marble.

"You're late," she said, voice flat, accent vague and expensive.

"I'm Lily," I offered with my best 'please don't eat me' smile. "My GPS took me to a barn. I may have joined a chicken cult."

She blinked once.

"I'm Celeste. House Manager. Come."

She turned and disappeared into the mansion like she expected me to follow without question. And I did. Because, apparently, I'm that girl now.

The doors groaned shut behind me with the finality of a sealed tomb.

Inside, it was colder. Colder than outside. Despite the roaring fireplace, the air had that museum quality-preserved and haunted. Dark wood walls. Chandeliers dripping with crystals. Paintings that watched you.

One, I swear, smirked.

"You'll have quarters on the east wing," Celeste said, heels echoing on marble. "There are house rules. No one enters the West Wing. No wandering after 10 PM. No social media. And under no circumstances are you to approach the Alpha."

I stumbled, literally.

"I'm sorry, the what?"

"The Alpha," she repeated. "Head of this household. He is not to be disturbed."

Okay. So that kind of estate.

Not just rich-alpha rich. The kind of old-money brooding power that came with whisper networks, secret staircases, and staff that disappeared for asking the wrong question.

"Of course," I said, and mentally filed that under: "Shit I will absolutely ignore if someone's bleeding."

She led me through a maze of hallways. Portraits, ornate rugs, weirdly cold air. I felt watched. Not in the 'too many cameras' way. In the 'I might be prey' way.

We passed an enormous double door with iron vines snaking across its face.

"West Wing," she said, like that explained anything.

Duly noted.

My room was... bigger than expected. A four-poster bed. Antique vanity. Fireplace crackling with heatless flame. It felt like stepping into someone else's memory. There was even a dressing gown laid out for me.

Mrs. Halloway, the head housekeeper, handed me a name badge and a clipboard of cleaning assignments. She had the eyes of someone who used to smile but hadn't in years.

I started in the north corridor, dusting windows and trying not to touch anything that looked like it had feelings. Everything was just a little too silent. Like the house was holding its breath.

When I reached the library, I paused.

Floor-to-ceiling shelves. Velvet chairs. A spiral staircase. It was breathtaking. Smelled like leather and citrus and something deeper-something animal.

I stepped inside and got to work. But the moment I climbed the ladder to reach the top shelf, I felt it again.

Eyes.

Someone watching me.

The air shifted behind me. My skin prickled.

I turned-and there he was.

Tall. Still. Dressed in black. Muscles taut beneath his button-down. Raven hair tousled like a storm had passed through it. His eyes-moonlight and smoke-met mine.

Time shattered.

The world dropped away.

My mouth went dry.

He didn't speak.

Didn't move.

Just looked at me.

Possessed me.

My legs trembled. My heart skidded.

I swallowed. "Sorry. I was just... dusting."

His jaw clenched. His nostrils flared.

For a second, something wild flickered in those eyes. Something that said: I know you. I've tasted you before.

And then-he turned.

Walked away.

Left me gasping like I'd nearly drowned.

I stood frozen, hand gripping the ladder, body humming with something I didn't understand.

I looked down at my phone.

Lily: I just saw the Alpha.

Marcy: IS HE HOT?!

Lily: He looked at me like I was a meal. And not in a fun, brunch way. Like... like he already owned me.

I hit send, then locked my phone. It felt stupid. Too normal. Too safe. Because nothing about this was safe.

And somehow...

I didn't want it to be.

Link

I smelled her before I saw her.

One breath-that's all it took.

I had been halfway down the east corridor, reviewing the latest patrol rotations with Cassian on my phone when the air changed. Citrus. Vanilla. Smoke. A scent so layered it didn't make sense. Bright and fresh at the top, rich and sweet in the middle, then wild and earthy underneath. Like sunshine trapped in an amber bottle, buried in forest soil for a century.

She wasn't supposed to be here. Not her.

The bond slammed into me like a wrecking ball. I staggered against the wall, my palm braced against cold stone, phone dropping from my hand with a clatter. My wolf surged up so violently I almost shifted on the spot.

She's here.

Not just any girl. The girl. The one written in blood and prophecy. The one fate marked as mine.

I clenched my fists and sucked in another breath, trying to calm the wildfire tearing through me. My instincts were primal. Hunt. Claim. Mark.

But I'd done this before. And it had cost lives.

I forced my legs to move, one step at a time, toward the library where her scent was strongest. Each stride like walking through flames.

Then I saw her.

She was climbing a ladder. Cheap black slacks. A hoodie two sizes too big. Hair pulled up in a messy bun. Dust cloth in one hand. Light catching the gold flecks in her eyes as she looked over her shoulder-and saw me.

She froze. So did I.

The air between us crackled. My chest burned. My control frayed.

Her scent hit harder with proximity-god, it hit like lightning. My wolf howled. My pulse roared. And then... she smiled. Tiny. Nervous. Fragile.

"Sorry," she said. "I was just... dusting."

Her voice cut through me like a blade. Gentle. Human. Vulnerable. My teeth ached with the need to bite, to claim. But I couldn't do that. Not again.

I turned and walked away. Because if I stayed, I would ruin her.

Link's Private Messages

Cassian: You good? You dropped off mid-chat.

Link: I found her.

Cassian: ...Her??

Link: Mate.

Cassian: Shit.

Link: She's not a wolf. Not even close. Human. New staff.

Cassian: That's not possible. You sure?

Link: I'd bet the Alpha crest on it.

Later, I stood in the security room, alone, watching the feed from the library.

She sat in a velvet chair, flipping through a book she clearly had no intention of reading. Her leg bounced. Her fingers tapped. Every now and then, she'd look toward the door-as if waiting.

And then she did something that tore me in half.

She smiled at her phone. Full, relaxed, unguarded. The kind of smile I hadn't seen since... since her.

Celena.

Her ghost slithered into my mind like it always did in moments like this. Her laughter, sweet as poison. The smell of her perfume mixing with blood. The betrayal. The ash. The fire.

I slammed my fist into the desk.

Not again.

I couldn't do this again.

Couldn't trust fate. Couldn't trust the bond.

But even as I stared at her image on the monitor-legs tucked under her, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands-I knew.

The moon doesn't make mistakes.

And this girl was mine.

Whether I wanted her or not.

Link's Notes – Confidential

Background check pending. Celeste says she's clean.

No living parents. Mother disappeared 20 years ago under unusual circumstances.

No known pack affiliations. No wolf traits detected. Yet.

But the bond is real. Unmistakable.

The pull is growing. Fast.

Lily

I didn't breathe until the door clicked shut behind him.

The second he was gone, it was like the whole room exhaled. The dust in the air swirled back to life. The shadows reclaimed their corners. And my knees-my knees-finally remembered how to work.

I slid down the ladder, heartbeat in my throat, nerves stretched tight enough to snap.

What. The. Hell.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me out of my daze. Marcy, of course.

Marcy: Update?! Is he hot?? Alpha hot??

Lily: I just saw him. And it felt like my soul had a seizure.

Marcy: Explain!!

Lily: He didn't speak. Just looked at me. And my body... it responded like I've known him forever. Like I belong to him. It was terrifying. And weirdly... hot?

Marcy: Okay that's either love at first sight or a demonic possession. Possibly both. Pics?

Lily: Girl I could barely breathe. I am the pic. I am the shaken-up soda can that is my emotional state.

I stuffed the phone back in my pocket and leaned against the ladder.

The way he looked at me... I couldn't forget it. Possessive. Awed. Hungry. Like I was something he'd been searching for-and feared finding.

But also... familiar. Like we'd met before, in a dream, or another life. Maybe both.

I touched my neck. It tingled, like phantom fingers had just grazed it. Heat curled in my belly. Not the blush of embarrassment. Something deeper. Rawer. My skin still hummed.

No man had ever looked at me like that.

And that's what scared me the most.

That night, I couldn't sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him. Felt him. His eyes haunted the shadows behind my eyelids. The memory of his stare wrapped around me like a phantom weight. It felt like he was still there-watching. Waiting. The scent of pine and earth. The way the air stilled when he looked at me. As if the entire estate paused for that one breath.

I tossed and turned, my sheets twisted around me like vines. I'd thrown on a tank top and shorts to cool down, but it didn't help. The heat came from within. From him.

I finally gave up and padded barefoot to the small window in my room. The forest beyond was dark and watchful. The moon hung low and bright-almost too bright. A spotlight. A witness.

Something was wrong. No, not wrong. Off. Tilted.

My hand trembled as I pulled up my phone and opened the browser. I typed without thinking:

"Can you feel someone watching you through a bond?"

A flood of paranormal articles and fanfics hit the screen.

I refined it:

"Mated bond feelings before meeting werewolf alpha"

One thread caught my eye. A forum for paranormal survivors. A girl wrote: "I felt him before I saw him. I had dreams. My heart raced when he was near. The air changed. I knew. And once we touched, there was no going back."

I closed the phone like it had bitten me.

This couldn't be real. It had to be hormones. Or maybe the estate had mold. I was spiraling. Definitely spiraling.

But I wasn't crazy. I wasn't.

The dreams had started days before I arrived. Hot, confusing dreams that left me breathless and aching. And always-always-there was someone at the edges. A shadow with silver eyes.

Was it him?

Was that even possible?

The next morning, everything felt different.

My reflection in the mirror startled me. My skin glowed. My eyes looked brighter. My lips were still swollen from how much I'd chewed them in my sleep.

"You look like someone kissed your soul," I whispered to myself.

And then, because I couldn't stop myself, I texted Marcy again.

Lily: I had another dream. He was in it. I think he touched me. And I felt it after I woke up.

Marcy: GIRL. I am buying silver bullets. Do not make me drive into the woods and rescue you.

Lily: No bullets. Maybe just... holy water?

Marcy: I'm going to text your ex. Tell him he was right about you being nuts.

Lily: He already thinks that. Besides, this is different. This feels... fated.

Marcy: Fated like fairy tale fated? Or fated like 'you're about to be eaten by a hot beast' fated?

Lily: TBD.

Later that day, I passed him in the hallway.

He was speaking with someone-tall, lean, commanding-but the moment he sensed me, his voice faltered. He turned, slowly, and our eyes met again.

It was the same heat. The same pull.

But this time, his jaw flexed. His nostrils flared. And when I brushed past him, my bare arm grazed his.

It was accidental. Barely a touch.

But I felt it in my spine. In my knees. In the deepest parts of me.

He sucked in a breath. Like he'd been hit.

And I kept walking.

Because if I stopped, I knew I'd never be able to walk away.

And that scared me more than anything else.

Lily

It started with a dream. But not like the others.

No sweat-slicked sheets. No phantom touches.

This one was cold. Crisp. Real.

I stood in the middle of a dense forest. Fog wound around my ankles like smoke. The moon above was full, but wrong-oversized, blood-tinged, pulsing. The trees leaned in, whispering with brittle leaves that sounded like voices. They chanted something I couldn't quite make out.

Carson. Greywood. Forgotten daughter. Blood of both.

A silhouette moved between the trees. A woman. Long hair, dark gown, eyes like mine. She didn't speak, but I felt her words press against my bones.

"Don't let them bind you."

She held out her hand. Pale. Familiar.

I took a step-and the ground split.

I fell. Screaming. Reaching.

And woke up gasping, tangled in sheets, my skin cold with sweat.

The dream haunted me all day.

I couldn't shake her face. The curve of her jaw. The way her voice echoed inside me even now, hours later. It didn't feel like a dream. It felt like a memory.

It felt like her.

My mother.

I barely remembered her. A scent here. A lullaby there. She disappeared when I was five. They said she walked into the forest and never came back. Everyone called it postpartum psychosis. I remembered it differently.

She used to whisper at night. "There's a part of you no one must see, Lily-girl. Not even you. Not yet."

At thirteen, I overheard my aunt whispering to a neighbor:

"The bloodline's cursed. Her mother was a Greywood witch and that man she married-well, no one really knows what he was. But that baby... she ain't normal."

They thought I didn't hear. But I never forgot.

I went looking for answers.

I slipped into the east wing's record room after my shift. Celeste would kill me if she found out, but I had to know.

The place was wall-to-wall dusty ledgers, estate journals, employment logs. I sifted through names. And there it was.

Elaine Carson.

Hired: March 1997. Title: Kitchen maid. Terminated: June 2001. Reason: Disappeared.

Attached to the file was a handwritten note:

Poss. bloodline. Greywood. Purged from public record. May require containment if returned.

My blood went cold.

Purged. Containment.

What the hell had my mother been involved in?

What the hell was I?

I didn't notice Link until it was too late.

He was standing just outside the open door. Arms crossed. Face carved from stone.

"You're not supposed to be in here," he said quietly.

I straightened, heart hammering.

"I was just-"

"Looking for your mother?" he finished.

I blinked. "How do you know?"

He stepped inside, slow, deliberate. Each step echoed like a drumbeat.

"Because I've been looking too."

He pulled something from his coat. A folded document. He handed it to me.

It was a photo. Grainy. Old. Of a woman standing at the edge of the woods, hand outstretched toward something unseen. Her face turned just enough.

It was her. From the dream.

"She was seen near the west woods two days ago," Link said.

"That's not possible," I whispered. "She's been gone for over fifteen years."

He didn't respond.

But his eyes... his eyes said everything.

It was possible.

And if she was back-

So was the danger.

That night, I didn't dream.

But I woke with the scent of pine on my pillow.

And I wasn't alone in my room.

Not really.

Something-someone-had left a single sprig of wolfsbane on my nightstand.

And beneath it, a note.

You're awakening. Choose carefully who you trust.