Mark Kills Thragg Novels & Stories

mercenaries. In a trice, Marks expression turned chilly. He knew the men were there for him and obviously working for and with Jake as they threw him a jacket. Jake then walked over to the men and Stab whipped out a half-foot long machete from his waist belt and stood before Jake. Expression dawned on Mark at once. Only him and Richarlison came for this rescue mission and they can't possibly be a match for this men, but Mark still was not bothered. He stood there as Richarlison and Diana stood behind him, Diana wrapped herself with the duvet and Richarlison then stepping before Mark so as to protect him despite his arms dislocated. It was his duty afterall. "Why did you suddenly barge in

Mark brought out a small dagger from nowhere and plugged it into his neck. Blood spluttered as he pulled out the dagger. The man held his neck and fell down dead. "If you come near me. That's how you are going to end" he threatened the others that were coming towards him. The men hesitated for a bit. They started moving towards him slowly. Mark got up and started running again. Alpha Nolan knew that Mark would need help to get away from the men. He struggled to get on his feet and followed them as they raced after Mark Unfortunately, Mark was finally cornered. He shivered and made loud breaths.

"You are Mine" He murmured across my skin. He inhaled my scent deeply and kissed the mark he gave me. I shuddered as he lightly nipped it. "Kirsten, you are mine and only mine, you understand?" Kirsten Saunders had a pretty rough life. After being heartbroken and betrayed by both her father and boyfriend, Kirsten moves to a small town to find the comfort of her mother.

A scout from a neighboring pack, one thought long scattered in the war. In his hand was a sigil drawn in dirt and blood. Not of the Broker, not of Striker. A new mark, unfamiliar but pointed directly at us. Mia stepped forward, knelt beside him, and read the final breath he whispered into her ear. Her face changed not in fear but in recognition. Something she thought buried had just clawed its way out of the grave. “We’re not done,” she said, rising to her feet. “And this time, it isn’t about me.”

Her clothes were ripped, her stomach and thighs was stained with dried blood, and thick red marks lined her back in neat, cruel rows. “Rogue?” Silas asked, his tone sharp with suspicion. I crouched beside her, my gaze lingering on the whip marks. Those weren’t from a rogue attack. They were deliberate. Systematic. Punishment. “I don't think so,” I muttered. “She was probably flogged and left out to die.” A moment of silence, then I continued. “Let's take her since she is still alive.“ Silas eyes furrowed in shock. Then he frowned. “That’s not our problem, Thorne. She’s a burden we can’t afford. She might bring trouble with her. Who knows what she might have done to be punished like that.”

Faelon growled roughly and Atlas proceeded to ask where he had gotten the pills. "I got them off some fucked up bitch with one eye by the market," Travis laughed and Faelon reached out and started squeezing the spirit's neck. Surprisingly he was actually choking the bastard and enjoying it. His blue hellfire crackled through the spirit. Travis Hamilton disintegrated into a gooey mess in Faelon's grip and Atlas exhaled deeply.

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

Other than that, there was no other trace of blood anywhere else. Was Markos really a legitimate businessman? I laughed and shook my head, deciding I was being crazy. Markos had an empire to show for all his hard work. He had to be a legitimate businessman. There had to be a good explanation for all the blood I saw. After cleaning, I carried out other duties and passed the time before it was time to go home. I was very hungry and tired and I couldn’t wait to get home. As I exited the hotel, I saw Markos leaning against his car. His dark hair was unruly and messy on his head, his shirt sleeves were rolled to his elbows, and he was in slacks and Armani shoes. He looked very hot.

He waved the gun again, this time, in front of Mark's chest “He made us pose like idiots with you on that bed, to have something to threaten you with. We were five naked, excited idiots eager to take you as we wanted and, in the end, Daniel decided that only he could fuck you.” “And that bothered you.” Mark completed deciding to speak until now. “You were always smart, Sanders.” He began to fidget “Now move.” “No.” Mark growled, tensing even more. “I told you to move!” Tom shouted “Do you want me to blow your chest? I’ll do it if it’s need! This ends today!” I squeezed Mark's shoulders when I felt he was about to attack that maniac. “So...” I licked my lips nervously, looking for a way to di

he said, then ended the call. I turned toward Azrik for a long moment, neither of us spoke. The silence between us was thick with implication. “It all makes sense now,” I finally said. “Thorne wasn’t just fighting for himself. He was fighting for his child.” “If the child is still alive,” Azrik said cautiously. I looked at him, certainty burning behind my eyes. “He is. Right before he died, that smirk on his face wasn’t fear. It was satisfaction. He was ready to die without ever claiming the rewards for his years of scheming…”