Marauder Sentence Novels & Stories

"If he's not back by then, I do what must be done." The first clawed foot crossed the threshold, dripping viscous black fluid that hissed where it struck stone. Mara didn't hesitate. She dropped to her knees before Adrian, her hands framing his face. "Adi? It's me. Look at me." "I don't understand?" My laugh came out jagged. "You think because I don't weep over family trees, I don't know loss?" The scars along my ribs burned—gifts from the same war that took my entire unit.

Let's start from the beginning, the very beginning. My name is Amara Zino, I am an orphan who lives with my only relative Madame Flavia. I lost my parents at the age of fifteen when they went on a 'parents bonding trip' and never returned alive. Their valuables were all missing same as some useful parts of their bodies their fingers and a significant bullet wound in between their heads.

Mara appeared at the lodge doorway behind us, took one look at the clearing, and said, “Absolutely not.” No one moved. She came down the steps with the calm fury of a woman who had spent years being ignored by injured men and had learned to compensate with menace. “Gideon,” she said. “Lovely to see you haunting us again. Your son has silver in his bloodstream, so if this is going to become an emotionally constipated dominance contest, postpone it.” Gideon looked at her. “Mara.” “Former Alpha,” she returned sweetly.

Suddenly, Mara stumbled through the gate, screaming desperately. Mara’s POV “My baby… my child… please let me hold my baby!” I sobbed uncontrollably, stretching my hands out blindly as I searched for him. I could feel his presence nearby, but I couldn’t reach him. His cries burned straight into my soul. It felt like dying over and over again. Suddenly, a burning slap landed across my cheek, throwing me violently to the ground. “You wicked woman!” an angry female voice shrieked. “How dare you seduce my husband, you blind fool!”

One wrong move, one aggressive twitch from my enforcers, and this will turn into a bloodbath right inside our gates. Mara steps forward, entirely ignoring the machete pointed in our direction. "It's not a recruitment camp," Mara says smoothly. She reaches up, deliberately pulling her collar down to expose the jagged, brutal Cassian-scar on her neck. "It's a home." The she-wolf stares at the scar, her fierce expression faltering. "I know that look in your eyes," Mara continues, her voice dropping into a gritty, empathetic rasp. "You've been keeping them alive by sleeping with one eye open and fighting for every scrap of meat. You're exhausted. You're waiting for the trap to spring."

She muttered to me and I shook my head frantically not understanding any of it and its implication. “You have it wrong. Maybe you meant Talia, but she’s dead so I don’t know” I argued and she only smiled, her eyes beautiful and glistening in the horror of the food court. “Mara you are special and you shall save your pack from the evils that are to come, keep up a brave front and be prepared”

"I am so tired of you all treating me like a doll! I won't break if I get a few scratches!" At my shout, three men's mouths hit the ground. "My god, Mara. You almost bleed out before we could get you to the Sorcerer to heal you. And you still want to go after him? That's suicide and you know it! Sólas is a Draygon, Mara, one of the most powerful ones! Do you really want him to succeed in whatever he was trying to do to you!?" Erik spewed angrily. I know what he did to you, Mara. Tohr said to me, his molten golden eyes boring into me.

Help me ! With that he let go of her, his face dropped on the ground, now covered with blood, she stood there, speechless, clueless, and scared half to death, this wasn't a prank, nor was he a star in one of her movies, it wasn't a video game, this was real, the blood was real, he was really unconscious, there were only two options left now, she would have to help him, or watch him die . Once again thanks for following, find out what happens next on chapter 5 of MARRED.👍

he repeats softly as if chanting a mantra against the storm of pain. At the threshold of the ward, I catch a glimpse of the pack, a circle of familiar faces filled with relief, worry, and unspoken prayers. Mara stands at the forefront, her expression a mixture of relief and lingering disbelief. “It’s a sign,” she murmurs almost to herself, “a sign that love and hope can overcome even the darkest shadows.”