All Chapters of MARKED : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The First were the creatures that roamed the Earth long before humans existed. Some called them shapeshifters, others the Gifted, and some the Cursed. They were intelligent beings, blessed by the Moon Goddess and revered by nature itself.But when humans came into existence, they couldn't accept beings more powerful than themselves. Humans brought jealousy, anger, violence, and sin. They destroyed nature, twisted its beauty, and made everything revolve around their kind.The First tried to coexist, suppressing their true nature by resisting the urge to shift and living as humans did. But it was futile. Humans hunted them relentlessly, nearly wiping them from existence. For years, it was as though they had never been.Then, one fateful night, the Moon Goddess unleashed her wrath upon the world. The tables turned. The hunted became the hunters. Humans were forced to learn their place.Lily's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "Where did you get that?" she asked, eyeing the book in my

We were in unusually high spirits as we bustled about the kitchen, preparing an elaborate feast. The atmosphere was lighter than usual, almost as if the air itself carried the scent of freedom we had been longing for. Even Lily, usually the most energetic of us, seemed more vibrant, moving her hips in time to a tune only she could hear as she stirred a massive pot of stew."Why are we rolling our eyes now?" she teased, catching my expression. "We should be dancing." She twirled dramatically, the wooden spoon in her hand splashing a bit of broth onto the floor. I laughed, shaking my head as I sliced through the pile of onions in front of me. "I know, I'm just... impatient, I guess." Anna gave me a light smack on the shoulder with her dishcloth. "Be grateful, young lady. None of that attitude in my kitchen." I grinned at her, warmth spreading in my chest. Anna was the glue that held us together, a mother figure who made us feel safe in a world where safety was a luxury. I hadn't f

ELIZABETH My eyes fluttered open, the faint flicker of the fire casting shadows on the walls. I blinked, disoriented by the dim light that played tricks on my mind. It had happened again. Ever since my father passed, the anxiety attacks had crept in like an unwelcome intruder. After my mother abandoned me, they worsened, becoming a familiar, choking presence. People said pain built strength, but I knew the truth-pain eroded you until you were little more than dust on the wind. When the creatures came, the attacks became near-constant. Meeting Armani was the only reprieve I'd known. She taught me to fight, to survive, to steel myself against the horrors of this new world. Without her, I wouldn't have lasted a week. But now that she was gone... No matter how hard I tried, the weight of solitude pressed down on me again, suffocating and relentless. "Tell me, Elizabeth-do you fear death?" The smooth, deliberate voice snapped me from my thoughts. My head whipped toward its sour

My arm throbbed, the pain sharp and constant, but it wasn't the worst thing I'd endured. Not even close. What I couldn't wrap my head around was the man-no, the creature-kneeling beside me. Damon, the Alpha, with his hands carefully wrapping a bandage around my broken arm. Why was he doing this? His silver-grey eyes, so pale they seemed almost translucent, caught the dim light in the room, giving them an otherworldly glow. His dark hair fell just slightly into his face as he worked, his expression carved from stone. No softness, no kindness-just that impossible, unreadable mask. I tried to focus on anything other than his touch. It was steady, deliberate, and far gentler than I would have expected. My pulse quickened despite myself. "Why are you doing this?" I blurted, my voice sharper than I intended. He paused, his hands stilling for a fraction of a second before finishing the bandage. His eyes flicked up to meet mine, and I swallowed hard. Those eyes-cold, piercing, like

Being carried over Damon's shoulder like a sack of grain was humiliating enough, but the sight of the dark, looming packhouse stirred a dread that made my skin crawl. The cold night air bit at my tear-streaked face, and my screams and thrashing had subsided into muffled sobs. My body was too drained to fight anymore, but my mind burned with anger. He strode through the doors and into the shadows of the enormous structure, the air thick with the faint metallic tang of blood and the earthy musk of wolves. He didn't speak, didn't glance at me, and that only stoked my fury. We descended into the belly of the packhouse, the stairs narrowing and the light fading with every step. At last, we reached a small, dimly lit room with stone walls. There was a single metal chair bolted to the ground in the center, heavy iron chains snaking around its arms and legs. Damon unceremoniously dumped me onto the chair. The clang of the metal was loud in the quiet room, and I flinched. "Stay," he sa