Ava’s POV

I sprinted the rest of the way home and raced straight to my bathroom mirror. Tilting my head, I checked my neck.

The mark had changed even more. What was once silver-white now had golden threads running through it like sunlight cracking through storm clouds. I touched it gently, remembering the electric jolt when Blake’s fingers had been there.

“What the hell does this mean?” I whispered.

A strange heat tingled from the spot, traveling down to my chest and spreading outward. My fingertip traced the new golden pattern, sending shivers down my spine.

Through the window, the fat moon hung heavy in the sky, nearly full. Dad’s execution date. Days, not weeks, to save Dad.

I gripped the sink edge, remembering how Hayes and Jackson were systematically burning every bridge I had. No pack would hire me. No position would open for me. They were boxing me in from every angle.

We won’t be meeting again. Understood?

Blake’s words echoed, but my mark pulsed warm against my skin, contradicting his dismissal. My wolf scratched beneath the surface, restless and insistent.

“I don’t care what he said,” I told my reflection, jaw tight. “Dad’s life is worth whatever hell comes after.”

“You look almost human today,” Ella said, sliding into the chair across from me at our usual tea shop the next morning.

I’d arrived early, watching the pack messenger pin fresh notices to the wall. The newest one detailed Shadow Creek’s “traitor trial” procedures—Dad’s name right at the top.

“High praise coming from you,” I muttered, absently touching my neck where the mark radiated warmth like a hidden ember.

Ella leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “Something’s different. Spill.”

After checking that no one was eavesdropping, I tugged my collar aside.

Ella’s teacup clattered against the saucer. “Holy— What are those gold streaks?”

“Happened last night,” I whispered, letting my collar fall back. “Jackson forced a mindlink, threatening me as usual, then suddenly…” I snapped my fingers. “The mark kicked him out.”

“Kicked him out?” Her eyes widened. “No way.”

“Those gold threads went into battle mode. It was like they were shoving him out.” I glanced around before continuing. “Ever since Blake touched it, everything’s different. It’s warm now instead of burning.”

“Hold up.” Ella leaned close enough that I could smell her mint gum. “That’s not normal, Ava. A rejected mark doesn’t just change because someone else touched it. Unless…”

I nudged her knee under the table. “Unless what?”

“Unless it’s what the old stories call a ‘Mark Summoning,’” she whispered, her face dead serious.

“A what now?”

“It’s in those dusty pack histories nobody reads. Super rare, but it happens.”

I rolled my eyes. “Come on, fated mate marks are one-shot deals. You can’t trade up for a better model.”

Ella tapped her finger against her cup. “The old books say wolves only mark once, but in crazy-rare cases, a mark might choose wrong. If you stumble across your actual perfect match…” She made a jumping motion with her hand. “The mark tries to switch teams.”

“That’s insane,” I said, though my fingers still drifted to my neck. “Blake can’t be my fated mate. He’s literally going to be Jackson’s father-in-law.”

“Just telling you what the books say.” She shrugged, then lowered her voice. “So what’s the plan for your dad? We know Hayes lied about where he was during the attack.”

“And that helps us how?” I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Jackson’s made sure no one will touch me with a ten-foot pole. Without actual pull, I can’t even get someone to listen.”

Ella suddenly straightened, eyes fixed on something behind me. “Ava, look.”

I turned to see a pack messenger pinning a new notice to the board—expensive parchment with the Silverpeak seal gleaming at the top.

POSITION AVAILABLE: COMBAT INSTRUCTOR

FOR LUCAS MORGAN, SON OF ALPHA KING BLAKE MORGAN

GENEROUS COMPENSATION – SPECIAL ACCESS TO SILVERPEAK TERRITORY

IMMEDIATE START REQUIRED