Marked By Scars, Claimed By The Lycan Novels & Stories

It is going to be hard. After the witches wake him up all hell came to lose. Leon disappeared for a couple of weeks and was found by one of our guards near the lake naked. He had shifted and allowed his wolf to take over his pain. He was found with blood all over him. After being examined by the doctor we realized the blood wasn’t him but from an innocent girl that was attacked in the Forrest. He attacked an innocent girl. An innocent human girl and turned her. She is in our hospital in observation.

“I know enough.” The hood fell back. Her breath hitched. His jaw was carved from obsidian, a scar snaking from his left eyebrow to his jawline like a lightning strike. Midnight hair fell in waves, shot through with a single silver streak that glinted when he moved—a Lycan alpha’s mark of power. But it was his ears that made her fingers curl into fists: pointed, tufted with black fur that stood on end, twitching at the sound of her ragged breathing.

"When a Lycan takes a mate, they give them a new mark. A Lycan’s strength is enough to wipe away the pain of losing their old mate. The new mark replaces the old one, erasing any remaining connection. The strong take over from the weak—that’s the rule." I frowned, processing what he had said. ‘So why hasn’t he marked me yet?’ I wondered. My situation with Michael was different, of course. He didn’t steal me from Robert. I had rejected Robert and accepted Michael on my own terms. There was no need for Michael to mark me to take away the pain. But if marking me could bring strength and healing, as he had said, why hadn’t he done it yet? Or had he been unsure about me back then?

"Hm... still sounds good." He removed his clothing, revealing his sinful expose. Lylah melted at the sight of the muscles rippling beneath his skin, the strong frame. She wanted to run her tongue on it. He didn't have many scars, but the large one that ran across his chest down to the side of his waist made her swallow. She didn't need to ask. It must have been the one he got from the fight with rogue Lycans. She traced her fingers on them. "They are beautiful," she whispered.

“My finger! Why… Why! Argh!!” Thankfully, we were in a closed building, where he hoped my own screams wouldn’t be heard. I pulled out the sword on his legs and dug it into the other leg. The Lycan’s screams were becoming entertaining. My claws elongated and a swell feeling of relief washed over me. I placed them on the Lycan’s head. “This is a mark I give to Lycans I hate.” In one zap, I drove my claws from one side of his face to another. Blood splashed on me. His left eyes was busted as well.

They were a force of nature, unleashed upon the unsuspecting world. The village elder, a wise old man with a weathered face, had witnessed the horrors of the Lycans firsthand. He had seen families torn apart, their lives shattered by the savage claws and fangs of these cursed beings. He had seen the fear etched into the eyes of those who had narrowly escaped their wrath, their bodies marked by deep, jagged scars that served as a constant reminder of the monsters that lurked in the night.

His belief in me was so unshaken. “And?” he asked. “And when I woke up this morning, he was smiling. Smiling like nothing happened. But it did. I saw the mark on his neck. I did that.” My voice cracked. “Humans don’t bite the people they love.” “Neither do Lycans. But they still scar each other with every full moon,” he said softly. “Nyra, this isn’t just about human rules anymore. You’re not just human. I think you have to accept that truth now.”

she invited, Karam walked over and took the empty seat beside Skylar while Ivan sat beside him, seemed like they had acquired some sort of camaraderie, Skylar beamed at the thought. A Lycan stood up, Skylar instantly noticed the aura around him, he must be the leader of the Lycans. He was bulky, his shoulders were the broadest, large, his chest was out, his hair was black, his eyes were hazel and a huge scar sat on the left side of his face.

My mate—in all ways but one. The moonlight filtering through the tall windows painted silver patterns across his skin, illuminating him in a way that made something catch in my throat. One week. I'd known him for only one week, yet it felt like my soul had recognized his from the first moment. "Theo..." I began, my voice hushed in the stillness of the night. His fingers, which had been tracing lazy circles on my bare shoulder, paused. "What happens when a Lycan marks a werewolf?"

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. The truth was right there, but fear tightened around my throat and swallowed it whole. And Damien… He hadn’t looked away once. His eyes were locked on me, sharp and unreadable. It felt like he could see through me. I was having a panic attack and I couldn't move. I wished I could disappear. After what felt like forever, I gave the smallest nod. It was all I could manage. The priest raised his arms high. “Then, by the ancient laws of the Lycan bloodline, I now pronounce you mates. May the Moon Goddess bless your union.”