Mark Of The Thief Novels & Stories

But that didn’t happen. Lena shook her head, her breathing growing heavier. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Alpha. I didn’t know.and…and when I did, it…was too late…” “Oh? So you weren’t able to fight it?” I xcountered, studying her face carefully. There was fear in her gaze when she peered at me, but it wasn’t the fear of being wronged but the fear of being caught. “Rogues don’t just appear,” I said. “They don’t breach a marked territory alone.”

A faint frown ghosts across his brows. “What?” I ask, voice soft. “That looks fresh.” His fingers lifts, barely grazing the healed-but-still-new bite mark just below my ear. The one from Shawn. “Mmmhmm.” I say, reaching for the silk scarf on the table, and wrapping it loosely around my throat to hide the mark. His eyes meet mine in the mirror, steady and searching. “Is it Shawn?” I hold his gaze but say nothing. He exhales through his nose. “I’ll take your silence as a yes.” he pauses, then quieter, “You’re mated now.”

“And still you should have honored that mark.” Nausea and disgust climb my throat; my mouth goes dry. I spit on his face. He does not relent. He tosses me aside by the chin. I land on my injured ribs and gasp. He hauls me up again . “Where is that forsaken wolf that dares to mark and defile me?” he roars. He tosses me again. “Let him come and protect you. Isn’t that what being marked entails? Or did you spread your thighs for him on a platter of some trivial feeling?”

“He talks.” He turned to her then, eyes dark with something dangerously close to regret. “You should leave,” he said. She shook her head. “I’m done being escorted away from my own life.” Rex held her gaze for a long moment. Then nodded once. “Fine,” he said. “But stay there.” He turned back to the intruder. “Names.” The man coughed. “I don’t have them. I had a mark and a direction.” “What mark?” “A raven crossed with a thorn,” the man said. “Sound familiar?”

Something vile, something utterly wrong, had touched my soul, attempting to invade, to corrupt. Theron, who had been observing our spar from the sidelines, was beside us in an instant, his hands already glowing with a fierce, protective kinetic energy. His eyes, sharp and analytical, scanned my face, then my arms, seeing the subtle flicker of the runes, the sudden chill radiating from my skin. “She’s been marked,” he stated, his voice low, a dangerous edge to it. His gaze narrowed, searching the moonlit grounds for any sign of a physical threat.

I glanced around, searching for him, but he was nowhere in sight. “E-Ezekiel? Are you here?” My voice came out shaky as I pushed myself up. I moved carefully, my hands instinctively cradling my lower abdomen. I had to be extra careful for the baby. Taking a deep breath, I turned on the lights. The moment the room illuminated, my breath caught in my throat. My eyes widened in horror. Drag marks. Dark, disturbing stains smeared across the living room floor, forming a trail that led deeper into the mansion. My stomach twisted painfully.

We returned with more questions than answers. The image of the strange symbol burned in my mind..sharp lines carved into Thorin's wall, deliberate and precise. We spent the night researching. Books. Elders. Anyone who might recognize the mark. It was a warning, a signature left by someone who had bypassed every guard and vanished without a trace. By the time the weight of our ignorance settled in, sleep had abandoned me entirely. Dawn came gray and cold. I gathered everyone. Soren. The vampire elders. The oldest wolves from our camp. Rylan stood beside me as I traced the symbol in the dirt with a stick.

His grip on his weapon tightened until his knuckles turned white. “Who are you?” he demanded, his voice low and sharp. “Why do you wear my family’s mark? How do you know my father?” The man looked at him long and hard, like he was seeing a ghost he had thought lost forever. “Because it is not your family’s mark,” he said quietly. “It is ours.” He stepped closer, and in the lantern light I saw the thin pale scar running through his left eyebrow. The exact same scar Theron had gotten saving me from a falling beam two years before.

"But remember, Scarlett—a marked dog is still a dog. And eventually, they all have to be put down." As the Thorne Enforcers retreated and the Sanctuary’s silence returned, Scarlett tried to pull away. But Caleb didn't let go. His grip was like iron, and when he pulled back to look at her, his golden eyes were no longer hazy with amnesia. They were clear, sharp, and terrifyingly focused. "The mark..." he whispered, his voice a low, dark rumble. "You said it was fake, little witch." "It is," Scarlett said, her voice cracking. "It will fade in a week."

"Prove it." I forced myself to meet those impossible eyes. "Either you want your pack member saved or you don't." Something flickered across his face. Surprise. "Show me the marks." My stomach dropped. "What?" "The marks." He stepped closer. "Bond-breakers carry marks for each bond severed. Everyone knows this. Show me yours, and I'll believe you." Run, Ash urged. Run NOW. But I couldn't move. Because I could see it now—the second thread wrapped around him. Thick, golden, pulsing with sickly light.