Mark Of The Thief Novels & Stories

As long as Mark remained here, and Bella was somewhere crying her heart out, I only had to watch out for Dora. As I moved past the delicately trimmed shrubs and turned the bend there, I came to an abrupt stop before I collided with Mark. There he was before me, his arms folded across his chest. He had a smirk on his face as he took me in. He raised his gaze to mine, "A thief?" He chuckled, "What did you steal?"

Then my boot caught on something half-hidden under pallet shadow - a leather-bound ledger, its corners frayed, a list of shipments scrawled in a hand that didn’t fear ink. I pried it free. The pages were numbered, times and names recorded like a tax of sin. Pallet numbers. Courier names. Routes that slipped through the dockside like a vein. And on one of the shipment slips, tucked like a signature, was a mark - the kind of symbol you’d only use where you wanted a man to know the order came from a boss. My blood went cold and hot at the same time. The mark? A crudely drawn fox head with a vertical line through it. I had the sensation of hands closing where air had been.

To our salvation. A vision hit me then her eyes in the dark, wide with recognition. The soft gasp of her breath. The press of her palm against my chest. The burn where the bond would mark us both. I stumbled back, shaking. “We meet tonight,” I murmured, chest heaving. We mark tonight, my wolf growled, savage and certain. And no force in this realm or the next will keep us from her. The wind howled around the Pack House, echoing the truth I could no longer deny.

Stamped on the front: the crescent and three slashes. My stomach tightened. That mark is pack ink. It doesn’t belong in human soil. “That’s not supposed to be here,” I said, and I meant it in every way. A twig snapped behind the fence line, too close. A voice drifted over, amused. “Found something, witness?”

"At first, I felt this pull to you. I didn't regard it as anything but then I started to watch you closely" "Do I look like my mother? Thorne called me by her name the first time we met" She nodded. "There's a striking resemblance. One of the things that convinced me that you were the one. I didn't think fate could have let you return like this. I went to Tilma but she wouldn't give me a direct answer. And the moment I noticed you were reading about blood wolves, I became even more convinced. The mark on your stomach was the final clue" "Why did the mark disappear?"

“How did you get this?” “I’ve…always had it,” I said breathlessly, my excitement growing. “This is the mark of an ancient coven. Of Jerusalem. A secret coven, one of extreme power. One rumored to have relations with…wolves. And rumored to not even exist. How do you own this?” I felt my heart pounding. “I….don’t know. I was told it was my father’s. I…hadn’t even thought of it.” He turned it over gently, looking at the back. His eyes opened wide.

"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.

"I'll give you something better. A mark that ensures no wolf, no pack, and no living soul ever looks at you again without wanting to be sick." He turned to the guards at the door. "Heat the iron," he said, and his voice carried through the room like a verdict already signed. "Bring the Mark of the Deceiver. Let the whole council watch what happens to rats who dare steal a queen's place."

**"Mark** me… please... Make me yours." Luciano's pace grew deeper and harder, driven by the force of the moon and the burning need to claim her completely. He sucked on the spot on her neck where her scent was the strongest, right over her pulse. His canines popped out, lengthened, Thorne right there at the surface. “I’m gonna mark you now,” he growled against her skin. “Gonna make you mine forever.” “Yes—do it,” she gasped, nails digging into his back.

Ludwig said, tapping the ancient book, “will go to the past and defeat Argus Panoptes. The mark you carry… it identifies you as the one capable of doing it.” Reinhardt frowned. “Then why do Father and Leif have the mark too?” “I don’t know,” Ludwig admitted. “But I do know they received it after the Magnolia Pack war.” Reinhardt swallowed, thinking. “And Lisa? She has the unique scent of Thessaloniki — I confirmed that myself. And she affects the mark too. Every time she draws near, it reacts.”