Marked by magic, claimed by monsters.

The bathroom lights blinked overhead the lockers as Amara barely had time to flinch before Seraphina’s voice slithered in her ear from behind. “Cute dress, Rose. Now your trying to impress my man?”

Amara turned slowly, her jaw tight. “You mean Ethan? Didn’t know he was anybody’s.”

Normally Seraphina was always surrounded from either side by her usual bodyguards, Ashley and Mia, but today, Seraphina didn’t need backup. Her stare alone was hot enough to sear through metal. “You knew I liked him. You saw us talking last week.”

“Yeah, I did,” Amara replied. “And then I saw him walk directly to me afterward.”

Seraphina’s face twitched. “He doesn’t actually like you. You’re just… what, some novelty? Rich girl with a sad life.”

Amara’s lips twitched. “You’re obsessed. If you like him so much, then go tell him.”

Seraphina pushed through, ramming her shoulder into Amara’s. “You’re going to say no to Ethan. You’re going to say you changed your mind about prom. You’re going to say no, or I swear to —”

“Or what?” Amara snapped, her voice sharp. “You’ll make another scene in front of the whole school?”

“You think this is a joke?”

“No,” Amara said. “I believe you to be a bully who cannot stand when she doesn't get what she desires.”

That did it.

Seraphina’s hand was quicker—she caught Amara’s wrist and slammed her against the lockers. There was the loud clanking in the passage. Amara’s teeth rattled. She resisted, but Seraphina pulled harder, jerking her. “You don’t speak to me like that. You’ll never breathe near Ethan again —”

“Let go!” Amara snarled, writhing and fighting the hold.

“You’re a pathetic little nobody. And when Ethan finds out, you’ll be just where you belong — alone.”

Amara's blood was coursing so heatedly that the moment she opened her mouth to argue, the pain hit.

Her wrist.

It was like a match had been struck underneath her skin.

“Ah—!” she gasped, doubling over. Seraphina didn’t notice right away.

“You listening now?” the bully sneered. “Finally realizing you’re not special?”

Amara’s knees hit the floor. Her wrist was burning. The pain was blinding, as if her bones were shattering beneath her skin.

Seraphina knelt. “Are you crying? That fast?” But Amara wasn’t crying. Her eyes were wide — fixed on the faint light under her skin.

Panic surged. “Don’t touch me—!”

She pushed Seraphina with both hands. Harder than she expected. Seraphina fell back and smacked her back against the locker, causing a framed picture to fall down.

Amara didn’t stay. She bolted from the hall, down the corridor, and didn’t stop. Not even when she heard Seraphina’s stricken voice echoing after her.

–

The door to her villa slammed shut behind her. She ran up the stairs, locked herself in her bedroom and sat on the floor. Her chest heaved. She undid the zipper of her hoodie and gazed at her wrist.

There was no blood. No bruise. Just… heat. A blur of red she had not noticed until then. And a queer, shimmering — almost not visible, like something was twitching under her skin. She got a water bottle cold as ice, and she pressed it to the bruise.

What was that?

No. She wouldn’t take it personally. Not now. Not over her. Seraphina was only trying to prank her. That’s all it was. Some stupid power play.

Still, the pain stayed.

She awoke with a start the next morning. Her wrist pulsed as though it were trying to scream. She sat up in bed, gasping. The sheets were sweaty against her skin. She’d just gotten up!

She opened her window and rolled up her sleeve. Her wrist was still bruised around the skin. “Great,” she muttered. “Perfect.”

By the time she arrived at school, her arm was feeling heavy. She stormed in the nurse’s office as the first period ended. Nurse Franny didn’t look up. “Flu symptoms?”

“Wrist,” Amara said, waving it. “It’s burning. It started yesterday. It hasn’t stopped.”

Franny half squinted and at last leaned in. “Looks like an irritation. Maybe stress rash. Did you eat something weird? Sleep funny?”

Amara grit her teeth. “No.”

“Any swelling?”

“No. Just heat. And pain inside.”

Franny sighed and handed her a petite white jar. “Apply this tonight. Twice. If that doesn’t help, we will do a scan.” Amara did so without any more words. But she knew it wasn’t just a rash. Something was wrong with her. Something more than Nurse Franny’s vague diagnosis. That night, the pain got worse.

She had tossed and turned in bed, flipping over and over, before sitting up at 1:30 a.m. “Enough,” she grumbled, taking the ointment and shuffling off to the bathroom. The lights along the top of the mirror hummed. She stared at her reflection. She looked pretty and tired. As though someone else were wearing her face. Then she rolled up her sleeve.

The skin had darkened. Not like a bruise. Not like a burn. Just… deeper. As though the redness wasn’t now skin deep. Like it was in her. She switched on the tap and let cold water gush over it. The pain ebbed until she was able to breathe once more. She took the ointment, massaged it and held her wrist near the light.

That faint shimmer? It was still there. Moving. It took a whole minute before the pain subsided. And then slowly, her pulse steadied. She hauled herself back to bed and lay, looking at the ceiling.

Her thoughts ran wild. Had Seraphina cursed her? Had she eaten something weird? Did stress do this? But the questions melted into the dark, and in time, sleep came — slow and not fulfilling.

Amara woke up the next morning with bruised circles under her eyes. In the mirror, she hardly recognized herself. She didn’t even look at the maid who greeted her at the foot of the stairs. But the moment she got to the kitchen, she heard her mother speak.

Lilith Rose. Polished. Iconic. Always calm — even when screaming at someone on the phone.

“I don’t care how shocking it is,” Lilith said. “It’s happening this week.” Amara stopped, just beyond view.

“I’ve already cleared the schedule. She’s heading to the European academy. It’s remote. ”

Controlled? Amara’s eyes widened.

“She won’t be able to resist,” Lilith went on, tight voiced. “ Just make the arrangements. Make no mistakes. I don’t want another last time.” Amara’s breath caught.

“I won’t allow what happened to him to happen to her.”