Cursemark Of Death Use Novels & Stories

My blood turns to ice in my veins. “The Mark symbolizes the permanent reminder of this commitment and their union with the Moon Goddess’s blessing.” The elder turns to Ezra, giving him a slight nod. “You may now Mark your mate.” I bite back a scream as Ezra’s fingers dig into my waist. He yanks me toward him, going for my shoulder. Pain sears through me when his canines pierce my skin, warmth blooming from the wound. I can feel my blood trickle down my arm, staining the fabric of my dress. His lips burn into my shoulder, so violent, so different from the kiss that it causes me to choke on my fear.

I wanted to hit him, and I wanted to pull him into a kiss that would stop both our hearts. ​"Every time we get intimate, I die," I whispered, my hand moving up to his chest, feeling the frantic thrum of his heart through his shirt. "Is that the curse, Julian? Or is it your mercy?" ​"It’s neither," he said, his eyes darkening as the Duke’s silver mist began to swirl in his pupils. "It’s the Debt. And right now, it’s hungry."

He simply said, "You have Alpha blood. Just sleep it off." Then, I heard Kaia's voice in the background. "The stars over the desert are so beautiful! I've never seen such breathtaking stars in my life!" And then, he hung up. Blood poured from my wound. I had no strength left to move. Bounty hunters often coated their bullets with wolfsbane poison. If I didn't identify the toxin in time and find the antidote, even my powerful Alpha blood wouldn't be able to heal me. Memories of my miserable death in my past life flooded my mind, suffocating me. I clutched my chest and let out a bitter laugh.

She opened the page of the ‘mate curse’ ‘this curse is placed by a sorcerer to separate two mates, It comes in pairs: the death mark and the life mark. The one bearing the death words is meant to die and can only be saved by the mate bearing the life word. Only if the life curse isn't concealed by the restriction substance which is meant to keep the mates apart’ she read the page in her mind, her eyes went to the drawings of the curses. The life curse was exactly like hers only that it was white, and the death curse was pure black, the words in the circle slightly different that if one didn't look closely they would think that it is the same words.

“This is a curse.” “How!?” I shouted. My voice cracked. I needed answers. Elder Cassian stepped forward, his face serious. “The one born beneath the Blood Eclipse bears two marks: A soul that burns its mate, and a bond that ends in death. Any Alpha who dares to claim her shall feel her fire with every touch. And if the bond is sealed, death will follow within a year… brought by her hand, her womb, or her power.” Elder Cassian spoke without stopping, and each word hit me like a stone.

A murmur moved through the pack—part relief, part grief. "But survival came at a cost." He paused, his hand moving to his chest. I saw the moment he let them see the mark—let the supernatural sight of the pack perceive the spiritual scar on his soul. Gasps echoed through the hall. "I bear the mark of the beloved's death. I killed an ancient god using love as a weapon. And I will carry that mark for the rest of my life. That's the cost of victory." He looked at me then, and I felt the connection between us hum with what he was about to say.

“It means her body is a living vessel. It’s destruction and rebirth in the same breath. Her blood can amplify any power it touches, dominance, chaos, creation, and ruin. That’s why they all want her. Damien wants to drink it, Cassian wants to wield it, and the others we haven’t even seen yet will come for it too. Or they’ll kill her to keep it from being used at all.” I dragged both hands down my face. “And the hallucinations?” “The mark.” Mara’s voice softened. “Whoever she marks first draws the curse into themselves. It’s not a gentle thing. The bond pulls everything dark inside her—the rage, the grief, and the raw uncontrolled force—and funnels it through the one she chooses. If you survi

"The Rhyme of Hades is one of the forbidden statements every werewolf is banned from saying. Anyone who recites it normally dies instantly. That’s why most packs call it the Rhyme of Death. In the old wars, packs used to trick their enemies into reading it aloud. No matter how strong they were, they dropped dead. It's worse than silver." He chuckled softly. Reinhardt stared at him. "So you want me to read something that kills people? Do you realize if I die, none of you would even exist? Sometimes it feels like all your suggestions are just different ways to get me killed, Elder Ludwig." Ludwig snorted. "Look at this weakling. You have the cursed mark. It won’t kill you...it will transport y

“But your death will be incredibly useful. Your spirit will serve as the guardian of the curse for my descendants forever. A beautiful legacy, don’t you think?” Morat collapsed. His blood spilled out. His golden eyes stared at Alaric with a betrayal so profound Siron felt it like a knife in his own chest. As his last breath faded, Alaric stepped closer and chanted a spell, binding Morat’s spirit with an agonizing curse.

“Two packs existed to be the most powerful pack of our kind, the alvuelas and the crescent pack.” “Our pack was the crescent. The Alvuelas were concerned about power, they wanted to rule the entire werewolves pack with the tip of their fingers. It wasn’t in favour of the other packs as they have predicted how toxic the leadership will be, they prefer to be ruled by their own alpha since there is an alpha in every pack. The Alvuelas used violence and threatened the other subordinate packs with the death of their whole pack. They didn’t have much choice than to follow his influence and voted the Alvuelas in power. But there were two heroes from the crescent pack that stood against the whole pr