Novel & Cerita Invincible War All Marks

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

I would’ve discouraged him from gambling his life away—and even though I could feel that betrayal and anger directed at him bubbling just beneath the surface, I had to admit to myself that there was none among those in the rebellion who came anywhere close to Hector in combat… “I accept.” Marcia Rockmountain’s voice cut through my musings violently, and for a moment I thought that I had misheard. As I came out of my reverie slowly though, turning to take in the faces of those around me, I realised that this was not the case and a shiver ran down the length of my spine. Marcia’s eyes were hard with determination as she stared at my mate with a defiant set to her jaw. “I accept your invocation

Below, in the courtyard, the transition was happening. The "Markless" servants were standing in groups, touching their arms where the brands had once been. Some were crying; others were simply staring at the sky as if seeing it for the first time. The Silver warriors were sitting on the steps, their heavy armor discarded, talking to the human engineers without the barriers of "Alpha" and "Prey." "They don't know what to do," Lucas observed, watching a high-ranking Beta trying to figure out how to carry a water bucket without ordering someone else to do it.

“When the Moon-Lake Pack was still powerful, you were arrogant. You bullied everyone here at the academy—especially Wynette.” “You owe them an apology.” “Drink a glass for each of them.” I looked at the table. It wasn’t just a few glasses. It was dozens—each one filled with potent spirits. Not ordinary wine. These were dangerous even for a healthy wolf. My wolf was already weak. Barely holding on. I inhaled shakily. “What if I refuse?” One of them leaned in, voice dripping with mockery. “Taryn, you have no pack now. No name. No power. You sure you want to make enemies again?”

He moved like a blur, tearing through the attackers without hesitation. His hands were claws. His eyes burned gold. His shirt was gone, his chest heaving, teeth—fangs—bared. Not human. Not possible. But real. I watched as he finished the last of them—ripping its throat out like paper—before he turned toward me. I couldn’t move. My mark pulsed like a drumbeat on fire. My body shook. Ivan approached slowly. Carefully. His claws retracting, blood dripping from his jaw.

The door clicked shut behind me, sealing us both inside that charged space. He moved slowly, deliberately, as if unsure how I would react. Every muscle in his body was coiled tight, restrained power just waiting to snap free. His shirt hung loosely open, exposing a slender, lean torso. A faint scar traced a line down his abdomen—a reminder of battles fought long ago. His chest still heaved with each ragged breath, and I could see the effort it took him just to keep it together. His entire presence was raw, unfiltered strength, and I felt it all in every nerve ending.

I had been able to see the labels above people's heads ever since I was little. When I was three, my grandpa held a family dinner at his house. Dad showed up with his secretary, Vivian Clarke. The moment she walked through the door, she went straight to Mom's seat. She rubbed her lower back and smiled sweetly. "Mrs. Lincoln, I hope you don't mind. Mr. Lincoln and I have been working on a project all day, and we're exhausted." I looked around the room. Above Eric's head was a glaring label. "Cheater." Above Mom's head was a dull gray label. "Loser." And above Vivian's head was a brightly shining label. "Ultimate gold digger." I immediately tugged on Eric's sleeve and asked loudly, "Dad, what

This was another system protocol written into 2Pac’s program files. Mark brought up his robotic suit’s ammunition blockers, which were two triangular-shaped energy blast proof shields. The two shields activated themselves and they arose out of both of the robotic suit’s arms. Mark tried to block the gunfire coming from two 3D printed handguns that 2Pac pulled out of two mechanized pockets that emerged from his abdomen. The battle began as a gunfight, and so far Mark held his own against 2Pac. He activated his nuclear-powered energy sub-machine gun and fired away at 2Pac.

Soon, Alpha Marcus appeared, surrounded by his pack's loud fighting chants. The Alpha of the Scarlet Valley Pack was a tall, bulky, dark-brown-haired man with blue eyes, which shimmered coldly against his tanned complexion. I scanned his shape, evaluating his strength, and quickly registered that his broader than Draven's shoulders and overgrown muscles could make him a dangerous opponent. When I saw someone from Marcus's pack waving his hand to start the fight, I took a deep breath.

“But the world is not yet ready.” Aria’s brows furrowed. “What does that mean?” “The Thirteenth’s prison is breaking. But it is not only he who threatens the world now. War is coming from all sides. Rogue packs. Corrupted Voices. The order is crumbling.” Kael stepped up beside her. “Then help us. Give us the strength to fight.” There was a long pause. Then the final Guardian spoke. “We will give you the Blessing of the Vale. But know this—if the Thirteenth rises, only the Marked may stand between salvation and annihilation. No one else can bear it.”