Carve The Mark Series Novels & Stories

Neither of them did. Mark suddenly came to a halt as he'd successfully eliminated Iñari's little vixen army. His dark fur was smudged with blood stains all over and his red eyes glowed brighter with murderous intent. He spat out a bloodied, severed arm from his mouth as he slowly crept towards Iñari... preparing to pounce on her. He had his predatory eyes on a much bigger prize. "Shouldn't we stop him now?" Bruno nervously whispered to me.

I hear Anderson tease, so I look behind me and Carter is sporting a new mark. “Feels good, right?” I ask and Carter nods. I look at his mark and it’s like mine, just her name in black cursive. A chosen mate mark. But a mated mark, none the less. “So, when are you settling down?” Carter asks Anderson. “When I am ready,” Anderson confesses.

The healer handed me a blade—obsidian, black as the moonless sky. I touched the mating mark on my throat. It pulsed weak, cold, a chain that had become a noose. Three years. Three winters of wearing his brand while he wore my trust like a cloak. I did not hesitate. The blade bit deep. Pain—white, cleansing, final. I carved the mark from my flesh, severing skin where his teeth had once claimed me. Blood poured down my chest, hot and right. I carved deeper, ensuring no trace remained, no scar tissue that could be mistaken for his property.

But then it happened to us. I almost lost my wolf that night I was slashed with a silver dagger. The pain had been unbearable. At first, I was terrified. But over time, the pain dulled. The fear faded. I went numb to it all—until even torture became just another part of life. And someday soon, I would join my parents underground. That night, I returned from bartending later than usual. The door to the study was open. Chase was inside, working. I paused at the threshold, staring down at the fresh scar across my hand. The one I got tonight when someone shoved me to the ground and my skin scraped against the bar floor.

"Yesterday I called him about the contract and - he paused - a woman was with him. "Ah, so that's it." Those were the words that came out of his mouth, but the phrase in his thoughts was this. - that's my boy. "That's right!" "Since he's not here, why don't we have a cup of coffee? Hearing from Carlos that his attempts were unsuccessful aroused a certain curiosity in Marcos, after all he was a born predator and like all predators he also liked challenges. "Great idea," he stood up, grabbed his bag, and followed him.

Please. *Answer me.* The Scorchmark *cracked.* Not breaking. *Opening.* A seam appeared in the black glass. Widening. And from within— *Light.* Not silver. Not red. *Both.* Intertwined. Spiraling. *Beautiful.* The light surged upward. Coalesced. And when it faded— A blade remained. Hovering above the crack. Waiting. It was *magnificent.* The metal was dark—almost black—but traced with veins of silver and crimson that pulsed like a heartbeat.

“I’m afraid of becoming a stranger in your eyes. Of losing myself in this fight, and forgetting you.” Her words hit me like a storm. I knew the fear she was carrying, the weight of what was to come. She was about to sacrifice everything—us—to stop the Prime Wolf. I couldn't promise her it would be okay, but I could promise her this: I pulled a blade from my belt, feeling the cold metal against my skin as I carved a mark into my arm. It wasn’t a symbol of power or victory—it was a bond, something between us that would never fade, even if everything else did. I carved the crescent and the rose, the mark that had always belonged to us.

Atlas came over to his side with a reaper card and waved it in front of his face. "I have a soul to pick up. It's not Sophia's but I do need to take off for a bit and Phil's going to tag along. Well, I will be transporting him so he doesn't get weak, " he snickered. Faelon nodded and watched the new mark that was on Sophia's shoulder disappear completely and grinned slightly seeing his bite mark still on her neck. He glanced down between her thighs and saw the mark Vincent put on her. "Why is Vincent's mark still on her?" He asked bluntly. Hoka lowered his hand and sighed.

But pictures of odd creatures. As she stopped to look at them, her father did too. She moved closer to the first portrait. Her eyes scanned every piece of it. The dark, yet thin pelt of the wolf stood out. Their bright color amber golden eyes struck her to the core and she got eerily nervous. She then turned her attention to how the wolf was not really a wolf, but a humanized version of itself. It’s ears standing to point, as if pointing at the moon. The snot, much longer than normal wolves. The normal canines a wolf would have, these ones were elongated and sharp looking. And it’s claws, also long and sharp. Cordovia gulped lightly, truly hoping that creatures like this were not real. Her f

Someone was coming towards me, carrying a torch. As he got closer, the room lit up. I was in a large, cavernous room, entirely carved from stone. It looked ancient. As the man got close, I could see his features. He held the torch up, to his face. He stared at me as if I were an insect.