Fourth Wing Marked Ones Novels & Stories

"Not anymore, Isaac. I don't see any mark on her. From the look of things, she has chosen Zack as her mate. You are banned from coming close to her." "No way, I will be back for her. She is mine." As those words left his mouth, Isaac stomped out of the meeting while Xavier and Ezekiel followed suit "As announced, no one should go against the orders given, else there will be a punishment from the elder wolves." They also left after saying those words. Luke, who couldn't stand his son, walked away. "This is our new life, Alpha Lilith. This means more training." Zack teased. "I know, thank goodness you are with me and…and I am ready to be marked by you." Zack's eyes momentarily went wide open,

The Marked One. ​As I reached them, Noah placed a hand on the small of my back. It was a gesture of protection, but my heart told me otherwise. ​"Tonight, you the neighbors," Cassian whispered, leaning in as I stood between them. "Try not to look so much like a rabbit, little wolf." ​"Why am I here?" I hissed, my hand instinctively going to the collar of my gown to hide the mark. ​"It’s a celebration of strength, Aria," Noah answered, his voice smooth as silk but hard as the marble beneath us. "The Blackthorne Gala". Our allies have traveled far to witness the stability of the Blackthorne territory. Don’t embarrass us."

The fourth mark. She knew all nine of them the way you know the rooms of a house you've lived in ... without thinking, by shape and position and the particular feeling of each one. The fourth was on her inner forearm, a rune that had always curved left at its base. It was curving right. She brought her arm closer to her face. She pressed the pad of her finger to the edge of the rune and traced it carefully.

Mama G stepped in, and behind her stood someone new. “This here’s Red,” she announced. “New muscle. Be nice.” The man behind her didn’t look like the usual bouncers—no dead-eyed stare, no swollen neck straining a polo shirt. Red had dyed crimson hair in a sharp buzz cut, and his face was a map of silver—piercings in his brow, his lip, and both ears. Tattoos peeked out from the sleeves of his hoodie. His eyes weren’t cold black like the others. They were a pale blue, watching the room like he was sizing up more than threats.

There, on my left shoulder blade—just below the curve of my neck—was a strange mark. A twisted rune, inked in deep red, shaped like a claw wrapping around a teardrop. “What the hell…” I muttered, rubbing at it hard. Nothing. I grabbed makeup remover. Still nothing. Alcohol. Soap. Nail polish remover. The mark remained, burned into my skin. “This isn’t happening,” I whispered, backing away from the mirror. I didn’t get tattoos. Not randomly. The only one I had was the High Table’s moon emblem on my chest.

And I would not give him that. The final vow concluded. The elders dipped their fingers into her blood and marked the sigil of allegiance at the inside of her wrist. She didn’t react to the sting. When it was done, the Council nodded. “It is witnessed.” Applause followed. Goblets raised. The tension broke into celebration once more. I watched as she stepped back into the crowd, and only then… only then, did her shoulders lower slightly. Relieved and exhausted. But she didn't yield.

He tried to use that as an excuse to look away, but the dragon girl in front wasn't giving him any chance to escape from her persistent gaze. "Miracle—" "I have to know, Hayden." He sighed for the tenth time, giving in at last. "It's a tail-shaped mark. Mynheex have it on the sole of their foot. But listen very carefully, they're very much stronger than before. We totally have no idea what they'll do to hide their marks." "What about fallen angels?" "Wings on their waist."

My shoulders and chest tingled as we both fell asleep. I woke up on Emerial’s chest encased in my wings and his wings with my sides tingling. I looked down at Em’s chest and saw my mark. It was beautiful and intricate, it shimmered golden green in the light, a crown of thorns intertwined with a crown of roses and laurel leaves, around a cross made of animals. It was a perfect representation of the God and Goddess that made us. I knew when I looked at my sides that I would see Emerial’s mark. I wondered if it would be the same as mine but in the white that his light was. “Are you always gonna be a creeper?”

she said while flipping through his cards. He has a curved, arch-like, shaped like a wing, with a star inside a circle Mark on his collar bone. A Mark only Damneds or human immortals have. Even though he was dead for a moment and Azrael only saw him once in person, she remembers him to have such a big and bright smile.

The blacksmith casually began to wipe soot on his tunic, causing her to suddenly feel the soot that was settling on her own wings, "Those winged nobles, and even the winged commoners, all call us 'clipped.' Some of us were born like this, so we aren't all criminals. Those nobles forget it, but their swords still bear their maker's mark. The mark of a wingless blacksmith." To their surprise, Nyxis chimed in, "Some of those born Wingless whisper that we were the Raven Goddess' answer to the arrogance of the harpy nobles—a reminder that flight was a gift, not a right." This left the room stunned in silence. Clearly uncomfortable with it, Korvash cleared his throat again, before speaking, " As s