Chapter 167 Where’s your mark?
Ethan’s POV
I’d spent the entire day in bed, sweating out a fever that had my wolf pacing restlessly under my skin.
Shifters didn’t get sick often, but when we did, it hit twice as hard—heightened senses turned every sound into a hammer, every scent into an assault.
By evening, the pounding in my skull finally started to fade.
I sat up slowly, blinking in the darkness of my bedroom. The only sound was the faint ticking of the clock on the wall.
It made me feel unbearably alone.
I’d always gotten these headaches. For as long as I could remember. And every single time, Aria had been there.
"Feeling better? Should we go to the hospital? Here, eat something first, then take your medicine."
For a moment, I could swear I heard Aria’s voice. Soft. Concerned.
I could almost see her.
"Aria..." I murmured, reaching out.
"Who are you calling?"
I flinched. Clara’s voice cut through the room like a blade.
She was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed. I could tell from her tone that she’d heard me say Aria’s name.
"I need water," I said flatly, not looking at her.
Clara stepped into the room, carrying a dinner tray. A simple grilled chicken breast, some vegetables.She set the tray on the nightstand without a word, then turned to leave.
"I don’t want that," I said, my voice hoarse. I glanced at the food and felt my stomach turn. "I want soup."
Whenever I was sick, Aria used to make soup for me. From scratch.
She’d spend hours in the kitchen, and every time, it was something different. Sometimes sweet, sometimes savory. Always perfect.
Even though I’d never been a soup person, I’d looked forward to it every time.
"You don’t like soup," Clara said, her tone softening slightly. "This is light. I had the staff make it especially for you. Just eat a little."
"I said I don’t want it."
I pushed myself out of bed and started getting dressed. I needed to get out of here.
"Where are you going?" Clara moved to block the door as I grabbed my coat and keys.
"The office," I said. "I’ve been out all day. There’s work I need to catch up on."
"You’re still sick. It can wait until tomorrow."
"I’m fine."
I tried to move past her, but she wouldn’t budge. Then I heard small footsteps behind me.
"Daddy!"
Marcus came running down the hall and latched onto my leg, his big eyes shining with tears.
"I’ll be good, Daddy, I promise! I’ll listen! Please don’t go!"
I felt my wolf stir, uncomfortable. Marcus had been punished yesterday—by me—and he was still upset about it.
But his instinct right now was to keep me from leaving. To keep the pack together.
"Be a good boy, Marcus," I said, my voice tight. "Go find your mother."
But even as I said it, I gently pried his hands off my leg and kept walking.
"Ethan!"
Clara’s voice cracked behind me, loud enough that I knew the staff could hear.
"Do you really not want this anymore?" she shouted.
"You never used to treat me like this! Is it because you can’t have her? Is that it? The one you can’t have is always the one you want most?"
The words landed like a slap.
Before I could answer, my father’s voice rolled down from the top of the staircase, low and heavy with Alpha command.
"Ethan."
I turned. Alpha Gerald stood there, expression carved from stone, radiating enough authority that even my wolf instinctively lowered its head.
"Clara says you’ve had headaches all day. Better?"
"I’m fine. Just heading to the office to check on something."
"The office will still be standing tomorrow." His tone left no room to argue. "Your health matters. So does your family." He glanced at a staff member. "Lock the doors." Then, to me: "My study. Now."
Clara shot me a satisfied look as she took my coat. I followed my father upstairs like a chastened pup.
---
By the time I left my father’s study, it was fully dark outside.
I stood in the hallway outside my bedroom, staring at the door.
I didn’t want to go inside.
Holt Corporation was finally turning around. If we secured the V&A partnership, we could scale up significantly within a couple of months.The company was saved.
But that meant facing the other half of my life. The half I’d been running from on four legs for years.
I’d told myself: just hold on. Wait until the family backed off, until the business was secure. Then I could claim Clara properly, in front of the whole pack.
Now that the moment had actually arrived, the relief I’d expected never came.
Aria wasn’t useful to the company anymore. But she was still my wife. Still bound to me by more than paper—by a mark, by vows, by a bond my wolf had never fully let go of no matter how hard I tried to bury it.
And she still loved me.
If I told her the truth—claimed Clara openly—Aria would hate me. I’d always known that and told myself it didn’t matter, that her pain was just collateral damage on the way to what I wanted.
But lately I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her face. Her voice. The way she used to tend to me without ever asking for anything back.
When had she started haunting me like this?
I pushed the door open. Clara stood with her back to me, slipping into new lace lingerie—barely-there, engineered for exactly one reaction.
It worked.
I’m a man. I’m a wolf. My instincts run hot and fast, and Clara knew precisely which buttons to press.
I crossed the room, wrapped my arms around her from behind, mouth finding her throat.
She tilted her head back, granting access, token resistance dissolving in seconds as she melted into me.
My lips trailed down to her collarbone, my wolf rising hungry and close to the surface—
Then I froze.
Something was wrong.
"Where’s your mark?" I pulled back, sweeping her hair aside, searching the spot behind her ear where a tiny red birthmark used to be.
The mark I’d found the night I nearly died on that mountain, half-frozen, barely conscious, clinging to one detail about the woman who’d saved me.
It was gone.