Novel & Cerita Bathory Under The Sign Of The Black Mark

And now I'm terrified too. Vincenzo is there. Behind him are my two other big brothers: Terzo and Salvatore. All three are dressed in black: cotton pants, combat boots, and long-sleeved turtlenecks. No jewels, except for the Don's thick signet ring glinting on Vincenzo's finger. All three have pulled back their dark brown hair, the same color as mine. Vincenzo has a tight bun at the nape of his neck. Salvatore has a low ponytail, and Terzo has half a ponytail that he's tied back with pale-pink fucking pom-poms.

The practiced ease that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Ma Felicia. Of course. My pulse thudded harder. Because I knew that symbol. I had seen it drawn in the margins of Modrach’s warnings. Etched into the edges of the torn curse pages. Carved faintly into diagrams that spoke of blood contracts and sealed inheritance bindings. A mark used only in the deepest layers of Blackwood’s forbidden history. A symbol tied not to marriage. Not to inheritance. But to control. Soul-binding control. The kind that required consent, lineage, or sacrifice.

For a moment, my heart ached so badly I could barely breathe, and I rushed to grab Alyssa's hand. As an Alpha, I would never bow my head to anyone or shed tears in front of anyone, yet I was crying openly for her, desperate for even one glance back. My body trembled, and my voice cracked with emotion. "Alyssa, I know I was truly wrong. I'll do anything if you'll just forgive me. When we return, we'll have the marking ceremony immediately. I'll announce to the entire pack that you're my Luna, and no one will dare disrespect you or hurt you. Please just forgive me."

All hit with wolfsbane. I rush to them, placing my hands on each chest, forcing my power to work through the toxin. But something stops me—something dark. Black magic. Thick and oily. It slithers through their systems, blocking access to their memories. Whatever happened is buried so deep, even I can’t touch it right now. The men jolt awake, gasping, scrambling upright in a panic.

She shifted her gaze to the vampire who died in it form, it probably could not fight against such evil spell. "We've never had any cases of black magic before so i was so shocked when i saw these bodies last night that was why i took my time to examine the bodies and i found something intriguing." Penny said. "What is it?" Dana asked. Penny smiled as she showed them the mark she found at the back of the dead bodies' neck. "They have the same mark at their neck." "What kind of mark is that?" Lemuel asked as he had never seen such ominous symbol before.

How Alpha Lawrence had managed to run his pack without any of them and still accomplish the title as the most feared pack was beyond anyone’s knowledge. Alpha Lawrence watched the older woman with careful eyes, judging her every movement, she looked harmless, weak even and as she cradled a decomposing corpse in her arms, he sneered in disgust. As she cradled her sister's head to her chest, whispering quiet incantation, she had tilted her neck a little to the side and the mark was visible. It was an infinity sign that was the trademark of the most dangerous and powerful line of black witches. The Doom Family.

"Your bond died the moment his fangs entered my flesh, and never, listen to me well, never will it recover. Now I belong to Killian Blackwood. And if you ever come near me again, it won't be Killian who kills you. It will be me." *** POV: MARK RICHARDS Did he mark her? Did that bastard actually dare to claim what the Goddess gave me by blood right? I stood petrified on the bathroom floor, my breath hitching and my gaze fixed on Ivy's neck. A freshly made mark, its edges still swollen, exuding a power so dense that the air in the bathroom became unbreathable. The design of the crowned wolf seemed to mock me, throbbing with a life of its own that screamed one name: Killian Blackwood.

The video showed a lavish private wine cellar. Flickering candles. I could almost smell the mix of red wine and fresh blood right through the screen. I stared dead at the familiar mark in the top right corner of the video—the mark on the back of Bastian’s left hand. It was supposed to be our blood pact mark. The sacred sigil every bonded vampire in the Thorne clan carried. But he had used an illusion to twist it into a black rose tattoo. It was his way of hiding our bond from the vampire elites—a public declaration to the entire supernatural world that he was single and ready for a more suitable match.

For he knew that he had committed an unforgivable crime. "Garyson, look at his chest!" Mera screamed spotting an important clue. I looked to his chest, revealing half of a black mark. I ripped his shirt open, revealing the mark in its entirety. The mark of a black moon! It was the mark of the Shadow pack. Every Shadow pack werewolf would have the mark of a black moon on their body. "The evidence is overwhelming!" I said. "If I'm correct, every traitor will have a mark like this by on their body. They must not be spared!" Mera came up with a great idea.

“He... was right behind me when I accidentally bumped into him. And when I looked at him, I was shocked. I don’t know how to explain it... but he had this strange kind of handsomeness, something out of the ordinary. It was like there was something eternal and timeless in his face. But the most disturbing thing was the black mark on his forehead. It was so dark, different from the ones I’ve seen before.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but hearing her words only made me more tense. That black mark... anyone who has a black mark like that isn’t just anyone. Usually, people with power or influence have a red mark on their forehead, a sign of their connection to the world’s energy.