Marked By The Lycan Prince Mga Nobela at Kwento

Marcia The entire group stared at the mark on Marcus's neck in astonishment. When wolves normally mate, even with humans, a mark resembling a black tattoo of two wolves appears. The mark now worn by Marcus was a crown surrounded by runes. This mark is the crest of the house of the Lycan King, something no wolf had ever worn. Traditionally, the king could use magic to transfer the mark to his most trusted Lycans, granting them the rights and privileges of a royal. This mark would be on their wrist. Only a direct descendant, or their Mate, developed one naturally, and then it was always on their neck.

“Lore, I promise you that I will tell you everything but things have changed now that you’ve mated with the Lycan Prince. Despite that, it’s still not safe for you, or me, but mostly you. Your mating with him does not stop the rest from coming after you, they will continue to come now more than ever. The one that appeared before you just now was one of the most dangerous beings after you. I’m sure that he must have noticed the mark on your neck and is probably anxious to have been a bit late at locating you and is scared that you might complete the process with the Lycan Prince hence will make him do anything to get his hands on you before you do so.” She heaved out.

Silver was not very much lethal to Lycans, it would only cause pain enough to keep their beasts from performing a single action. “And where is your hunk of a Lycan Prince?” I couldn't help but notice her dull eyes as they searched around for Cameron. “Oh! He must have abandoned you after having his fill!” She exclaimed with glee after ensuring that I was alone. I noticed a few teeth were missing as she cackled like a demoness. It was crazy to see her try to hurt others while she was in so much pain. “Told you.” She let out another round of evil laughter. “Not one wants you, not even your mate!” She spat.

My mouth hangs open but it snaps shut the moment I see him get off the bed, he grips both of my ankles and pulls me toward the edge of the bed, until my legs are touching the ground. “What are you doing?” I ask, sounding a little nervous. Prince Ezra gets on his knees and I swear, I stop breathing. You would too if the lycan prince, the next lycan king is on his knees in front of you. “Leaving my mark,” he replies. “I’m also possessive.”

I echoed in disbelief, earning a glare from him. “I thought you rejected her," I reminded him, just in case he had forgotten. "And who the hell are you to speak?" He asked, hatred boldly visible in his eyes, for me, but I couldn't care less. “Nita's second chance mate, and the Lycan King, of the greatest Crystal light pack," A voice replied, and we all turned to know who it was.

To pay me back for how horribly I had treated him? “How dare you all still stand before him?” a man shouted as he stepped out from the far end of the crowd. At first, it looked like he was in his middle age, but his waist-long, snow white hair said he had centuries on him. “Pay your respects to the Royal Lycan Prince!” What? Was Silvan the Royal Prince of the Lycian Empire? The man pulled out the Lycian Empire’s Royal Seal, a seal every shifter learned as soon as they became of age.

I screamed, pulling my hand back, staring at my own skin in utter horror. ​A black mark was forming—small, faint, pulsing with a dim, familiar red light. ​The exact same mark that scarred Lysander’s back. ​"Now," the figure whispered, its voice fading along with its smoke as it was swallowed by the dawn light creeping over the horizon, "we are bound, Thalia. You, me, and your Lycan King. Until we meet again, when your blood has finally, truly matured." ​The figure vanished completely. With it, the entire army of shadows besieging the castle dissolved like mist in the morning sun.

The mating bite on his neck stood openly visible, a deliberate symbol of defiance against the old laws that had sparked this war. Lucien joined him on the tower, his massive frame clad in full black armor etched with silver wolves, the crown of the Lycan King resting heavy on his brow. His golden eyes burned with ruthless determination as he surveyed the approaching threat. The bond between them thrummed strongly, a warm anchor amid the gathering storm, feeding strength from one to the other.

I was about to stand up to let him think about whatever it was when he squeezed my waist, pulling me back into his lap. “Hey,” he sweetly called, angling my shoulders to face him. “Something’s bothering you,” I admitted, placing my hands on top of his chest. Letting out a deep sigh, he confirmed, “You are well aware now that Dad is the Lycan King, right?” Wiggling my brows, I nodded. “Well, I wanted you to understand that, as the Lycan King, he’s not used to being defeated. Although we didn’t lose the first battle against the Eclipse Pack, for him, not bringing victory is just the same as being the loser.”

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?"