Bathory Under The Sign Of The Black Mark Novels & Stories

Burned into the stone, black and twisting, made of cruel curves and ancient fury. Elias fell to his knees. “I’ve seen that before,” he whispered. “In my dreams. In my nightmares.” Kai crouched beside him. “That mark—what is it?” Gabriel approached slowly, face pale. “It’s a blood sigil… but not one I’ve ever seen used in modern casting.” Dorian reached out. “Elias?” But Elias wasn’t with them anymore. Not fully. Another wave slammed into his mind—hot and feral.

Their silence spoke louder than words. I touched the rune on my throat. It was a burning scar shaped like a thorn. It pulsed once, and their eyes widened, even through their hoods. The mark of the Black Thorn. I had earned my place. My deal with the entity of the Void was still carved into my very essence. The memory flashed again behind my eyes. I saw it all again. The altar. The chains. The cold voice in the dark. “Your soul for power.” I saw dark eyes like galaxies. Claws that never touched, but took. And I said yes.

But why was that a concern for William? He began to unbutton his shirt. I lifted my fork and pointed at him. “Don't you dare,” I said. “I'm not trying anything with you. I want to show you something.” He unbuttoned his shirt. When Mia looked at his chest, she saw the same crescent birthmark on his chest. Her hand shook. “How…? How do you have the same birthmark?” She asked. “I can't take back what I've done but I'll spend my years seeking atonement for this crime to the goddess,” William said.

And as each vampire drank, she recited a chant for the potions effect to be activated, "Sorvex vampyri, veneficus draconis , Zarathrax nocturnum, umbra potentis" As she did this, each vampire wore a mark on their forehead, a symbol rather, using a trace of the potion to do it which reinforced the potion's connection to them and could be used as their new brand. The leader of the vampire, loved the idea of that. The change was good.

Faelon growled threateningly and Atlas grunted. "I'm just curious about what you find interesting about her. I can see her ex did a number on her and she has a mark on her inner left thigh. Looks like a demon bite," Atlas exclaimed in fascination. Faelon's brow rose as he recalled Lucifer saying she was demon marked. "What does a demon mark mean? Do you know, reaper?" He asked. Atlas shrugged and told him he had no idea but Rai may know. Sophia went to the sink and got a glass of water. They both watched her take a pill and sigh.

Then he returned his attention to the grimoire. "Borrower Witches often have a mark on their left arm. It's always under the armpit so it won't be easily noticed." "This mark, what does it look like?" I asked after exchanging a quick glance with Keller. Gatlin rubbed the back of his head at this moment and shook his head. "I have no idea. But I do know there's always a mark which marks individuals as his own." Keller thanked him and was about to get up when he added, "The stronger the demon, the more difficult it is to find that mark. It always clings on to something that looks natural. And in the case of a stronger demon, it can be anywhere."

Never given him a reason to fear it. Until now. Evren pulled his shirt over his head and stared down at the symbol. A chill settled over him. The mark was different. Only slightly. A new line had appeared among the dark patterns, branching outward like the beginning of something unfinished. Anyone else might have missed it entirely. He hadn't. The burning slowly faded, but the unease remained. A knock sounded at the door. He already knew who it was. "Come in." Eros entered without ceremony. His gaze immediately settled on the discarded shirt before moving to the mark itself. The door closed behind him.

Their flames arch inward as if drawn to Maxine, extending toward her sleeping form with unnatural hunger. Shadows dance across the corridor floor like living things, twisting and writhing over ancient carvings etched into the stone. Curses older than memory itself. They approach a peculiar closed door, the words: DO NOT ACCESS written at the top. It had been quiet inside for the past decade, but once the man comes closer to it, something shifts within. Dalton feels it, an ancient power. BANG A loud clashing comes from behind it. And then more. Like whatever is in there is trying to get out. He fastens his pace.

She didn’t answer that, just sipped, the taste bitter as burnt dreams. The first warning came with the next frost: a deer carcass, gutted and nailed to the back fence. Elena found it at dawn, the bones carved with runes she remembered only from her mother’s stories. Black runes, written in something thicker than blood. The triplets stood in a silent line behind her, and for once none of them tried to play the strongman. It was Damon, unsettled, who said, “That’s a Luna mark.” He spat, and the blood on the fence seemed to laugh at the gesture. “Half the pack thinks you’re a witch,” Devin said, softer than the rest.

You would think my father, the Gamma of the pack, would defend me. Instead, he blamed me for embarrassing the family. While they celebrated Seraphina’s mating with Liam, I slipped upstairs unnoticed. No one seemed to realise I’d been gone all night. I was exhausted. Dirty. I needed a shower. As I undressed, my breath caught. There was a bite mark on my neck. A mating mark. How could he mark me? If anyone saw it, I would be ruined. Being marked by a rogue without the Alpha’s approval was considered treason.