Mark Grayson Invincible Novels & Stories

“It never ended. From the time I saved you from the fields of the Blackwind Pack, the war is still going on, though the battle at that time just ended overnight or so.” “What is his power then?” I watched him with an anxious look. I put both of my hands behind me. “Something about fire and camouflage is what I’ve heard. Though the extent and strength of his abilities are unbeknownst to me or perhaps to everyone.” “Except my father?” My throat bobbed. He shrugged. “Marcos can blend into an environment, somewhat making himself invisible. I heard he can also feel immune to the cold despite being a Rogue for months.” “It is a problem,” I whispered. And when Kallias stopped in his tracks, I thoug

“Sir, the Mark angle is working. Look!” The central screen shifted. Headlines updated in real time: “New Allegations Emerge: Mark Grayson’s History of Abuse Surfaces.” “Leaked Recordings Show Grayson hitting his wife until she passed out.” Good. Good. Push harder. “Don’t stop until Mark’s name is rotting in the gutter,” I growled. The kid nodded like his life depended on it. I shut my eyes, locking my hands behind my back, forcing myself still. The storm was shifting, the tide rolling in my favor.

We broke apart instantly. I ran with Mia back to the gate. What we saw on the other side stopped every heartbeat in my chest. It wasn’t just a scout. It was an entire hunting party. Half-dead. Covered in blood. And tied to a post behind them— Was Marcus. Barely conscious. Carved into his chest was the symbol of the hidden clan Varin had spoken of. And burned into the post above him: "One blood must fall.”

He wasn’t a soldier, wasn’t trained for this, but for Luna—the woman who’d crashed into his world and stolen his heart—he’d become anything. Marcus’s voice crackled through his earpiece, urgent and low. “Thermal scans show six hostiles inside—armed, spread out across the lower level. You’re walking into a kill zone.” “Stay back,” Grayson said, his voice steady despite the storm raging in his chest. “No one moves without my signal. Understood?” “Grayson,” Marcus replied, his tone pleading, professionalism cracking. “Let us go in first. You’re not trained for this, and they know it. They’re counting on you being reckless.”

“Ashen… this is…” “New,” I said softly. “Completely new. Not from Solven. Not from Ateron. Not from the original eclipse.” He finally touched it. The bond roared— bright and overwhelming— not painful, not dangerous, just powerful enough to make my breath catch. “Ashen,” Grayson whispered, voice shaking, “this mark responds to me.” Because it had been made for him. “It should,” I said. “You’re the one I chose to protect.”

How was that even possible? I lowered my gaze to the mark again. I had heard stories about the marked Luna when I was younger. A Luna chosen by the moon goddess herself, whose blood could command wolves and restore packs and also had the ability to heal. But I never imagined that I would ever be connected to something so powerful. I was still trying to understand everything when the door suddenly swung open. Ivy and Fred ran inside like they were being chased. The moment Ivy’s eyes landed on me, she froze. I felt my heart jump. “Ivy…” I whispered as tears instantly gathered in my eyes.

--- Thirteen Years Ago The scent of blood and ozone had been inescapable that night. Malcolm had found her—Genesis Walker—trembling in the shadows of her father’s laboratory. Her father, a genius scientist whose only crime was discovery, had been torn apart by Victor Hynes, the brutal henchman of Jacob Cross. Malcolm had arrived too late to save the man, but he would not lose the daughter. He had driven her to the international terminal under the cover of a blackout he’d engineered in the Council’s security grid.

I said, inching closer to the spot close to him, at the same time, trying my best to avoid Shawn's eyes. “Marcus.” He offered his hand casually. “One of the pack’s betas.” I shook it, surprised by the warmth of his grip. He smiled again, wider this time, one of his cheeks dented with a dimple. His eyes flicked briefly between Shawn and I, like someone who just noticed something. Whatever he noticed, made his grin falter just slightly. Not disappearing, just… adjusting. That's when I look at Shawn, his face masked in a scowl. He didn't say anything or do anything, but the air became a bit stuffy, even though we stood in the well ventilated hallway with tall, open windows.

He glanced at June and winked. When the Gardener touched the jar, Marcus didn’t let go. He smashed it against the Gardener’s chest. It wasn’t a machine inside. It was the last of the black virus—the evil code from June’s grandmother. “If you want our fire,” Marcus roared, “then take our ghosts too!” Black ink exploded, covering the Gardener. The giant made a sound like shattering glass. His white armor turned black. The bone-ship above shook as the virus shot up the beam and infected the ship.

Brown gray hair messy tired, eyes brown gray-gold calm tired, oldest thickest ring, Tom Ford milk stained. He looks at Marcus holding crib four. "You hid Ghost line in Ohio because you thought human was weak. I hid Grace under Council because I thought human was weak. We were wrong. Human holds. Complete family holds seven cribs because one human mother holds center. That was always manuscript." Marcus in J.Crew jacket milk stained, no armor. Brown gray temples, eyes brown gray-gold tears calm tired seven grandbabies. Older thicker ring. Aftershave Ohio lotion old dust first wolf fur and milk dust. Holds Grace hand on clear stone.