The Mark

The rain fell in soft sheets over the quiet town of Elaris, soaking the cracked pavement and washing dust from the rooftops. Thunder whispered across the sky, distant and tired, like a secret too long buried. The townsfolk had long since locked their doors and drawn their curtains, for no one lingered outside after nightfall—not in Elaris, not when the mist crept in from the woods like a living thing.

But Celeste Nightshade had never been like everyone else.

She stood barefoot on the back porch, her long nightdress clinging to her legs, soaked from the storm. Her raven-black hair hung heavy down her back, curls weighed by the rain. In her hand, she held the flickering flame of a lantern, though she didn’t need it. She could feel the forest. It called to her—not with words, but with a hum in her blood and a pull in her bones.

Ever since her eighteenth birthday three nights ago, something inside her had awakened.

And there was the mark.

She glanced down at her wrist where it burned softly beneath her skin. The mark looked like a curling flame, drawn in black ink, yet no tattooist had made it. It had appeared, the night she dreamed of a fire-lit man with horns and a voice that curled like smoke around her soul.

She should have been afraid. But she wasn’t.

She was curious.

And tonight, curiosity drowned out caution.

The ancient woods at the edge of town were forbidden for a reason. Even children knew not to play near them. Animals refused to cross its boundary. Lights vanished in the dark. People who wandered in—on rare, whispered occasions—were never seen again.

But Celeste stepped barefoot onto the damp grass and walked straight for it.

The lantern sputtered, then died. She didn’t stop.

Her heart beat a little faster with each step. Her breath clouded in the air, too cold for a spring night. The mist thickened as she passed the first trees, and then she was in.

The silence was immediate and absolute.

No birds. No wind. Just her breath, her heartbeat, and the low hum beneath her skin—the mark. It pulsed now, slow and steady, as if something—or someone—was answering its call.

She turned in a circle, eyes adjusting to the gloom. The trees were impossibly tall, their trunks black as ash, their branches weaving a web above her. A flicker of movement caught her eye to the left—too fast to track, too large to be a bird.

She froze.

“Who’s there?” Her voice was steady, despite the tremor in her chest.

Then he stepped from the shadows.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Cloaked in black. His face was half-lit by some inner glow—his eyes, burning faintly red, like dying coals. His hair was tousled, raven-black like hers. And beneath the fall of his long coat, she saw the brief glint of something sharp and metallic along his side.

But it was his presence that shook her.

The air warped around him, heavy and charged like the sky before a storm. It wasn’t fear she felt, but… recognition. As if she’d known him before this life.

“I’ve waited centuries for you, Celeste,” he said, his voice low and rough, like velvet over flame.

She took a step back. “How do you know my name?”

“Because your soul calls mine.” He stepped closer, eyes never leaving hers. “You bear the mark of the bound. My curse… and my only salvation.”

Lightning flared behind the trees, briefly illuminating his form. For just a second, she saw the tips of horns hidden beneath his hair. Her breath caught.

“You’re a demon.”

He smiled faintly. “A prince of the Infernal Realm, if we’re being formal. But I’ve been many things. And now… I am yours.”

Celeste’s legs felt weak. She reached for a tree to steady herself.

“This is insane,” she whispered.

“Yet you came,” Kael said, stepping within inches of her now. He raised a hand but paused, letting her decide.

She didn’t move away.

His fingers brushed her cheek. They were warm—surprisingly so—and left a trail of tingling heat in their wake.

“You’ve felt it too, haven’t you?” he asked softly. “The dreams. The fire. The voice in the dark whispering your name.”

Her lips parted, but she said nothing.

“I was cursed,” he continued. “Bound to this realm, never to return home. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless the soul who carries the mark chooses me willingly. Chooses us. Our bond breaks the seal.”

Celeste shook her head. “This sounds like something out of a nightmare.”

“Nightmares and dreams share the same door,” he murmured. “And you opened it.”

She pulled away suddenly, heart racing. “No. No, this isn’t real.”

Kael didn’t chase her. He simply watched.

“I’ll give you time,” he said. “But not much. The others have sensed your awakening. And if I found you… so can they.”

She turned back at that. “Others?”

Kael’s jaw tightened. “There are those who would see you used. Killed. Turned. You’re not just a girl with a mark, Celeste. You’re the key to a prophecy as old as the realms themselves.”

He stepped into the shadows again. “I will protect you. Whether you want me or not.”

And then he was gone.

The forest breathed again. The silence broke. The mist thinned.

Celeste stumbled backward until she was out of the trees, onto her backyard lawn, heart pounding in her throat. The lantern she’d dropped flickered back to life as if nothing had happened.

But everything had changed.

---

Later that night…

Celeste sat in her room, curled beneath her blanket, staring at her wrist. The mark was glowing faintly now, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat. No amount of scrubbing could make it fade.

She remembered the way Kael had looked at her—not with cruelty or hunger, but reverence. Like she mattered. Like she was more than a girl in a forgotten town.

But the fear lingered too.

Demons were real. And she had met one. One who claimed her. One who said others would come.

Her reflection in the mirror looked pale and fragile. But deep inside, something stirred—something fierce.

If her life was no longer normal, then maybe she wasn’t meant to be.

Maybe she was something more.

---

In the Infernal Realm…

Kael stood at the edge of a burning cliff, his coat snapping in the hot wind. The sky was red, lit with rivers of lava and ash. Behind him, stone towers twisted like black thorns, rising toward a shattered moon.

He had felt her fear.

He had also felt her desire.

“She’s stronger than the others,” a voice hissed behind him.

Kael didn’t turn. “She’s the one.”

A figure stepped beside him—female, pale-skinned, with eyes like silver daggers and wings of glass and ash. “You risk much, Kael. If she denies you, the curse will remain. The others will come for her.”

“Let them try.” His eyes flared. “She’s mine.”

---

Back in Elaris…

Celeste dreamed again.

This time she was in a cathedral made of bone, firelight flickering along the walls. She stood at the altar, wearing a dress of black lace. And beside her, Kael knelt, his wings folded, his hand over his heart.

“Say the words,” he whispered. “And I will burn the world for you.”

She woke gasping, heart on fire.

Outside her window, a pair of glowing eyes watched from the trees.

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