MARKED BY THEM

It had seemed just weeks ago that Lena Harper despised moving: the boxes, the taped-up memories, the smell of stale cardboard on everything she owned. But more than all things, she hated leaving the familiar behind, even if it was broken.

Her mother, Cynthia, hummed as she unpacked in the kitchen of their new home-or rather, his. The man who blew into their life like a hurricane, showering them with promises of stability, comfort, and affluence. Lena couldn't decide whether to be grateful or suspicious.

The house itself had been a sprawling mansion on the outskirts of town, cuddled under the shadow of some woods that seemed to whisper secrets through every sigh of wind. It was alive, this house, complete with its grand staircase and crystal chandeliers, antique furniture, heavy drapes that seemed to watch her every move.

"Stop frowning, Lena," her mother called from the kitchen. "This is a new beginning for us. Try to make the most of it."

Lena said nothing. She only let her fingers trail along the lacquered banister, staring up at the high ceiling that was too grand for people like them. People like her.

Hours later, she had unpacked her few belongings into the guest room that was actually hers now and heard a knock on the door. It wasn't Mother; Cynthia would have made her way in without such courtesy.

"Come in," Lena said tentatively, standing amidst half-unpacked clothes.

The door creaked open, revealing a tall, dark-haired boy with striking green eyes that gleamed like forest leaves under sunlight. He was lean but muscular, his expression unreadable.

“You’re Lena, right?” His voice was low, almost bored, as if this was a chore he’d rather not be doing.

“Yeah,” she replied, unsure of what else to say. “And you’re…?”

“Caleb,” he said, leaning against the doorframe with casual confidence. “Your new stepbrother.”

The word "stepbrother" felt heavy and alien. He didn't look even remotely like he shared her blood, let alone her world. There was something about him that rankled her, something sharp, something dangerous beneath the mask of composed civility.

"I figured," she said lamely, folding a sweater she was never going to wear. "Nice to meet you.

Caleb's lips quivered, not quite a smile. "Sure." He turned to leave but then stopped at the door, his hand on the frame. "Just a heads-up: Crescent Ridge isn't any school you're used to. Don't expect any easy way out."

Before she could ask him what that meant, he was gone, and this feeling just sank inside her belly, like she was wading into some storm ill-equipped.

---

The First Day

The next morning, Lena stood outside Crescent Ridge Academy, clutching her bag in the tight grasp of her hand-so tight that the knuckles of her hand had whitened. The school was so much more intimidating up close: a gothic masterpiece of soaring spires and arched windows, with ivy crawling along stone walls.

Inside, the air was alive with the hum of money and influence. Students milled around, their laughter sharp and confident. Lena felt the weight of their gazes slide over her, weighing and judging. She was the outsider here-the girl on a scholarship, the one who didn't fit.

"Hey, watch it!

Somebody pushed Lena aside, and she almost fell. She managed to turn around and saw a tall boy, dark unruly hair on his head, with a pair of piercing gray eyes. He didn't turn behind; his broad shoulders cut through the crowd like a knife.

"Don't mind Ethan," a voice called from behind her. Lena turned to see another boy-this one wearing a cocky grin and golden hair that seemed to catch the light. Blue eyes sparkled with mirth. "He's like that with everyone."

"Great," Lena grumbled, brushing off her bag.

"I'm Liam," he said, extending a hand. "And you must be the new girl everyone's whispering about."

LENA hesitated but shook his hand. His grip was firm, his touch warm. "Lena," she replied.

"Well, Lena, welcome to Crescent Ridge. It's not as bad as it looks. Mostly."

She couldn't tell whether he was being nice or taunting her, but before she could make up her mind, a shrill voice pierced through the air.

"Liam, stop harassing the poor girl.

Ethan was back, his grey eyes glacial as they scoured Lena. He was taller than Liam, with an air about him that made people clear a path without his having to ask.

"Relax," Liam said with a smirk. "Just being friendly."

Ethan just ignored Liam, talking to Lena. "Stay out of my way," he said flatly as he walked away.

Her face hot with anger and embarrassment, Lena just muttered under her breath. "Charming."

Liam laughed, a low, rich sound. "Don't take it personally. Ethan doesn't like anyone. But don't worry, he'll come around."

Lena doubted it.

---The First Vision

By lunchtime, Lena was already exhausted. She found a quiet spot beneath a tree in the courtyard, hoping to avoid any more confrontations.

With her eyes shut, the world shifted around her. The air was cold; the sounds were a low murmur now.

She wasn't in the courtyard any longer. In the dark heart of the forest, moonlight filtered through treetops and shadows writhing in their frantic dance, their movements fast to follow.

"Lena," a voice whispered, hoarse, haunting.

Spinning around, she leapt forward, her racing heartbeat first.

And then she saw no one.

"Lena," it said again, closer.

And then she saw them-three wolves, their eyes glowing bright in the dark. One silver, one gold, one green. They stood in a triangle, regarding her with an intensity that froze the blood in her veins.

Before she could scream, the vision shattered.

"Hey!"

Lena blinked, her heart racing as she came back to herself. Liam crouched before her, his blue eyes wide with worry.

Is that all right? You looked like you were going to pass out."

"I… I'm fine," she stammered, though her voice shook.

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't press. "Come on. Lunch is almost over. You don't want to be late to your next class.

She nodded and followed him inside, but her mind had stayed mired in that scene of wolves-the glance returned to her, a glance as if to say they knew her.