Chapter 6 Fire Beneath Her Skin

Aria moved faster than she ever had in her life. The moment the Inquisitor drew his silver blade, her instincts screamed—not of fear, but survival. Something inside her snapped free, wild and ancient. She ducked beneath his first swing, the blade slicing a strand of her hair as she rolled across the floor and grabbed the broken fireplace poker from beside the hearth. It was a pitiful weapon. Rusted. Dull. But it was iron. And that was enough. The Inquisitor turned with inhuman speed, his cloak whipping around him like shadow-made flesh. “You dare raise a hand against me?” Aria didn’t answer. She lunged. The poker struck his arm with a hiss of burning flesh. He recoiled, eyes narrowing as black smoke curled from the wound. “You’re awakening,” he murmured. “Too early. Too fast.” Aria didn’t pause. She pressed the advantage, slashing and swinging with everything she had. The poker felt alive in her hands, guided by rage and something else—power. He caught her on the third blow, his hand like a vice around her wrist. “You can’t stop it,” he rasped. “Your blood sings. The Moon hears you now.” She kicked him in the chest with both feet, sending them both tumbling backward. He hit the wall hard enough to crack the stone. Aria scrambled to her feet, gasping, blood on her lip, fury in her bones. “Stay away from me,” she growled. He stood slowly, and for the first time—hesitated. Then he smiled. “He marked you.” Aria froze. “What?” “You didn’t know?” he said softly, tilting his head like a raven watching prey. “Dominic claimed you the night he brought you here. Not with teeth. Not with words. With soul. The oldest bond there is.” Aria’s breath stilled. “No,” she whispered. But even as she denied it, she felt the truth. The pull. The warmth that haunted her nights. The dreams. She remembered the fire that passed between them when he touched her, the sense that her body was no longer fully her own. She had been marked—deeply, silently. Without her consent. “You’re lying,” she said. The Inquisitor stepped closer. “That’s why the Council wants him dead. He broke the ancient law. Claimed the Moon Blessed before the choosing. That’s treason… and prophecy fulfilled.” Then he struck. --- Aria barely dodged the next blow, but the knife grazed her side, slicing fabric and skin. Pain flared white-hot, and she dropped to one knee. Her vision blurred. The blade was silver. It burned from within. But the moment her blood touched the floor, something shifted. The shadows trembled. The moonlight seeping through the windows flared gold. And her skin glowed faintly. The Inquisitor halted mid-step. His eyes widened. “No…” Aria looked up, her blood-streaked hair falling from her face, her lips parting as an ancient power rose through her chest. “You wanted to see what I am?” she said. “Then look.” The fire in the hearth exploded behind her, lighting the room in golden flame. The curtains caught. The walls trembled. And Aria stood—radiant, terrible, divine. Moon Blessed. Chosen. --- The Inquisitor snarled and lunged again, but the fire curved around her like a shield. His blade melted mid-air before it touched her. He screamed, stumbling back as molten metal dripped from his hand. Aria raised her arm. “I’m not your prey,” she said, voice echoing. “I’m your reckoning.” A burst of moonlight shot from her palm, slamming into his chest and hurling him across the room. He hit the stone with a sickening crack and collapsed. Unmoving. Smoke curled from his robes. Silence fell. Except for her heartbeat. And the distant howl of a wolf. --- Mira found her minutes later, collapsed on the floor, her breath shallow, the light gone from her skin. She helped Aria to her feet, tears in her eyes. “What did you do?” “I survived,” Aria whispered. “But I think I started something, too.” Mira’s voice shook. “The Council will feel this.” Aria nodded. “Let them. I’m done hiding.” --- That night, she sat alone in Dominic’s study, staring into the fireplace, bandages on her side, silence in her bones. He’d marked her. Without telling her. Without asking. But part of her had known. Deep down. And worse—part of her wanted it. She hated herself for that. Or maybe, she hated how much she didn’t. She didn’t know what kind of Alpha Dominic truly was. But she knew now that she wasn’t just a hidden girl with a dangerous secret. She was the secret. And the war had just begun. ---