A Marked Lover Novels & Stories

he said, his voice low and smooth, like a distant rumble of thunder. I grinned, gesturing casually to the art installation hanging on the cafe wall—a two synchronized clock - The Perfect Lover. “But you’ve been here for hours. It’s cold, it’s raining, and…” I hesitated, glancing at the synchronized clocks mounted on the café wall. They were one of our signature decorations, labeled The Perfect Lover.” Logan’s gaze followed mine, landing on the clocks. He raised an eyebrow. “Perfect Lover?”

The hardening between his legs, the way his fangs elongated just from her scent, alerted him to just how inviting she was to him. She felt it to. The heavy scent of her arousal wafted towards him, pungent yet sweet. Ripples of desire washed over her flesh, cheeks flushing. Yet, she denied it. Of course she would. They had only just met. Being immortal, Malik had learned long ago that life was fleeting. It was best to simply take what you wanted, when you wanted it. But with Annabelle, Malik found himself unable to take what he desired from her. He ached to hear words of acceptance fall from her tongue. Until that moment, he would do nothing to break her.

“He offered me lessons in return for what? Silence? Weapons? A partnership?” Maria’s face shifted. For the first time since she’d stepped into the lamplight, I saw a flicker of irritation. “Loren is a surgeon. He always wants to cut. He will help you learn to wield. But do not mistake him for a lover. His knife never asks who will mend.” A crack of sound then too close and too human. A shot. Sharp as bone. Damien sagged into me like a prop giving out. Warmth pooled under his coat and I smelled iron, loud and immediate. He looked up, and his mouth was a small, stubborn crescent.

"You are Mine" He murmured across my skin. He inhaled my scent deeply and kissed the mark he gave me. I shuddered as he lightly nipped it. "Kirsten, you are mine and only mine, you understand?" Kirsten Saunders had a pretty rough life. After being heartbroken and betrayed by both her father and boyfriend, Kirsten moves to a small town to find the comfort of her mother.

I grabbed the parchment, ignoring the burn of its unnatural heat against my skin, and stuffed it into my jacket. “Back to the quarters, now,” I ordered, pulling Autumn to her feet. She didn’t resist, but her eyes were distant, haunted. As we moved, I kept her close, my senses on high alert. The howl still echoed in my mind, and I knew it wasn’t over. Whoever—or whatever—that figure was, they weren’t done with her. Inside her quarters, I locked the door and turned to her. “Talk to me,” I said, my voice softer but urgent. “What do they mean by ‘mark’? What do you know about this symbol?”

Damian replied, his desire to mark Elara again until his teeth left their imprint on her skin. "Among their kind, lycans and werewolves alike, the most profound mark signifies the unbreakable bond between mates. It also serves as a warning to any other he-wolf that Elara is claimed, the profound mark a symbol of his devotion to his fated mate. "Elara, I want to deepen my mark on you, as if I could bite into your very soul to ensure no one else dares to claim you," Damian replied, flushing Elara's cheeks with embarrassment.

“So the name of that leech is Vega well is a fitting name for her,” Angelo felt a brewing headache from the long explanation of Mark that he couldn’t help but give a sarcastic remark to the name of Mark’s lover. “Do you still like her?” Angelo was curious about Mark’s feelings towards his lover, whether or not he still liked her. If ever Mark still likes that Vega, then it’s appropriate for them to end everything so that Mark could be together with the one he loves.

“Before you saw someone loving her the way you never did.” “She’s still my fated mate!” he shouted. “You can’t change fate!” “I didn’t” I said. “She's my fated mate also. I've marked her. And now she's mine.” Kieran froze. He stared at me in shock. “You marked her?” he asked quietly. “Yes.” “She let you mark her??” “She loves me.” Kieran let out a rough sound and lunged at me. Elder Silas and Elder Horace grabbed him making sure he didn’t get close.

At that moment I was giving in to my heartless lover and I loved him with my body and soul. He slowly entered me, stretching me beautifully. God, I have missed him. His thrusts were really slow but they were hitting the right place that were making me moan loudly but he covered my mouth with his hands and it made me wonder. I mean we were the only ones in the house so who cares what we do inside. I could scream to shutter glasses and it wouldn’t bother anyone expect for the guards outside but that was okay, they were professionals. They would understand. ‘We should practice. I don’t want to wake up our son and have him running towards our room to find out what is making you sound like that.

I smile at the sarcastic explanation from the bald driver with a huge mustache, who has no idea who I am or where I came from. “Yes… maybe.” “Keep your head up. Love is like that—ice at first, and fire when it’s ready,” he explains thoughtfully, indifferent, as if his heart had been shaped that way at some point in his life. The driver keeps rambling, continuing with his love metaphors until I finally arrive. “See you. May everything work out for you,” he says goodbye warmly and slowly. I thank him politely and almost fly toward the apartment. “Hi Estela, come in… come in,” Mark is waiting at the door in a white pullover and black jeans. The bastard is so built that his tattoos show through