Fourth Wing Marked Ones Novels & Stories

I tried to pull my hand from his and he tightened his grip. “You’ll never pull away from me wildflower, you own my heart, and I have marked yours,” he shook his head. I undid my seatbelt and slid over to him, “you’ve said that before, you marked my heart, is that how angels mark their mates, do I really have a mark inside me on my heart?” He nodded, “indeed you do, if you could see it, it would look like wings surrounding it, keeping it safe and warm,” he smiled.

Chapter 18 It was real. Aurora stood frozen, staring at the strange red mark burned into Liam’s chest. A twisted “R” with wings, like it had been seared into his skin long ago. She reached out without thinking, her fingers barely grazing the scar. It was raised. Old. Permanent. Liam didn’t flinch. He just stood there, watching her with tired eyes. “You were marked,” she whispered. “Like property.” He slowly pulled his shirt back down. “That’s what happens when you belong to the Crimson Sons.”

"You take Fiora." "Kaia's thigh is injured. It wouldn't be appropriate for someone else to care for her," Chris argued. "And you think it's appropriate for you?" Lucian shot back, his voice laced with anger. "Don't forget your place." I gently tugged on Lucian's sleeve and said, "Let Chris take her home. A scar on a girl's thigh wouldn't be a good look." I stepped aside, silently giving them permission to leave as whispers from the crowd drifted into my ears.

“He’s preparing to send a scouting force. And he wants you to bless them.” She blinked. “Bless them?” “You’re Luna now. They’ll want your voice before they ride. Your presence. Your strength.” “I’m not a symbol.” “No. But you are a leader. And leaders inspire fear—or loyalty.” She exhaled. “Fine. When do they leave?” “Tonight.” --- Twilight bathed the training grounds in gold as Aria stood before the assembled warriors. Two dozen fighters—some seasoned, some barely of age—all stood in disciplined lines. Their armor gleamed under the dying sun. Each carried twin crescent-shaped insignias on their chests, the emblem of Darkfang: the black wolf devouring the white moon.

His fists came up, and at that moment a shrill cry stopped him dead in his tracks. “THREE!” I blinked at the disturbance, and as one we all turned to look at Marcia Rockmountain, whose frailness was only emphasised by the display we had been so focused on moments ago. “I was keeping track of our Alpha’s attacks,” the old woman explained remorselessly. “He has had three opportunities, leaving him with only two chances to win.” A moment passed before I realised that she was counting in the attack she had just interrupted, and as this dawned on everyone else angry murmurs spread through the gathered crowd but she lifted her hands helplessly and began speaking.

“The scroll…it says they ‘leave common ground.’ But that means we begin here. I’m not sure why. And the rest of it…‘a ring of blood’… ‘meet at the house,’ ‘the fourth tip of the cross’…I just don’t know where we go from here.” I looked around again. The view from up here was commanding. There was still some snow left, despite the warming weather, and several kids were sledding down the other side of it, screaming in delight, their parents joining them. As I looked out, I saw a very beautiful and idyllic park. It was hard for me to imagine witches being hung here. I surveyed the hilltop, but all I saw was a large tree. There was no clue whatsoever. “Why ‘four Horsemen?’” I asked. “What’s that

Axel asks softly. “I think so,” I reply, hesitant to say it out loud. “The Moon Goddess,” Kane whispers, and a shiver runs up my spine. “Holy shit,” I mutter, and suddenly my knees are weak, and I let go of their hands and sit in the dirt. I stare at my hands until my eyes adjust, and I gasp when I look at my left wrist. “What’s wrong?” Kane asks, kneeling beside me. “Look at your wrists,” I mutter, holding mine in the moonlight. Three overlapping circles around a wolf symbol glow brightly. “Are yours the same?”

"Dragons don't bite like wolves. Their marks are done with their wings." My stomach churned, and my head began to spin circles. Someone had already marked my mate and I didn't know it? "What do you mean—," she asked. "They use the tip of their wings to prick your skin. It draws blood, and with that blood your mark appears. It's small, not something very noticeable, almost like a birthmark." Blaire's face drained of blood, and I knew right then, she knew where it was. "Show me," I demanded. Tears whelmed in the corner of her eyes.

My fated mate wants my body and soul… but he still calls me by his missing wife’s name. ____ Framed by her best friend. Rejected by her groom. Cast out by her pack, Savannah’s world shatters. Until Xavier, the Alpha of Alphas, finds her. From the moment their bond ignites, it’s raw and addictive. He touches and kisses her like he can’t breathe without her. But he believes she’s someone else—his missing wife. His daughter calls her “Mommy.” And the mate bond burns hotter than she ever imagined. Savannah has secrets. A past she’ll never speak of. She swore no man would ever own her again. So why does her soul beg to be his?