Marked By The 소설 & 이야기

We are tied to each other now. Then comes the burning pain on my chest, it’s unpleasant but bearable. I look down and watch as the Mark of the Alpha appears on my chest directly over my heart. I smile in awe at the mark that once resided on my father’s chest, that he now just transferred to me. It’s a wolf’s paw print and looks like I’ve been branded with iron. But as the redness dissipates it’s replaced with an iridescent sheen. This mark is binding and cannot be forged.

A lot of men were sure to make advances at her given that she hadn't been marked yet, and I wanted to be here to ward them all off. When women were marked by their mates, the mark faded away after some time to but a small beauty spot. The chemicals emanated by that small mark was enough to let another man know that the woman already had a mate and was not to be approached. But since I had not yet marked her, people might think of her as fair game.

“She has a mark.” The words land harder than they should. For a second, I just stare at him. Then my gaze drops back to June. Slowly. Carefully. My eyes move over her, past the blood, past the rise and fall of her chest, until they find it. There. On the left side, just beneath her ribs. A mark. It is not like ours. Not like anything I have seen before. A crescent. Curving softly against her skin. And at its center, a star.

I drop the paint brush on the ground; I went ahead, already facing the door, Immediately I met the door back to Its normal look; not even a grain of paint is seen. "Okay! What the fuck; is it magic?" I spoke with a question. Mom laughs, she grabs my hand and we both walk away from the door, we stand at the gate and from there, I saw strange makings at the door. That’s!” I say but did not know how to finish my statement; that is when mom helped me out! "That's the called an enchantment mark, it forbids werewolves or anything supernatural to come Into an apartment without being invited," Mom walk back to the door.

I woke up from the sound of my stomach growling, without a word; I stood up from lying on my bed; my face was a little hurt from the incident earlier when I saw my reflection, a big purple bruise. I sighed and held my cheek, and started to heal myself. My mom and dad were fascinated with my gift for healing, but it wasn't extravagant; like the doctors from our tribe, I could heal simple wounds or, like mine—Bruises.

“I will… I will…” She hugged me again, even tighter. As she held me, the mark on my chest suddenly grew hot. It was so hot that I flinched.Then, without warning, a bright light burst from my chest and filled the entire court. Gasps filled the room. Everyone shielded their eyes as the light grew stronger until the whole hall glittered. The darkness outside even faded as if the sun had returned. “What is happening?” someone whispered. “She’s glowing!” another elder shouted. Then someone cried out, “She’s the Marked Luna!”

“Yeah.” We move slower. Hazel points with her chin. Ahead of us a scrap of cloth hangs from a twig where a sapling meets the path. It’s weathered gray, nothing to it, until the moon catches a smear on the weave. Red-brown, three strokes, clawed downward and splayed. Redmaw’s mark. It’s fresh. Wet where the threads bunch. We both stand there looking at it like it might start talking. “They’re inside the fence line,” Hazel whispers.

“This… mark. It’s not just a scar, is it?” “Don’t be too fat, Marianne,” said Marianne, pursing her lips very tightly. She placed the book on the bedside table, and flipped the book to the ribbon marker. The parchment was yellowed, covered with symbols I didn’t understand, but the image in its center took my breath away: a woman with a glowing moon-shaped mark on her chest, standing under a full moon, wolves bowing at her feet.

“You held on to the officer's shirt stubbornly and didn't even bother to smile at the camera.” I chuckled. I knew Maxine was trying to ease the tension on my shoulders. Elspeth shuffled around in her slippers, gathering a few things that had something to do with me. “You said… I had a mark,” I reminded her softly, trying to prompt her memory. She nodded slowly, then sat across from me and leaned forward. “Yes. A crescent-shaped mark, like a half-moon… right here.” She motioned to my shoulder. “That mark is not just any birthmark, my dear. It’s a symbol.”

I don't answer. My room is exactly how I left it. Unmade bed. Half-empty coffee cup. Sketchbook open to a half-finished drawing of a wolf I don't remember drawing. I slam the door shut and press my back against it, sliding to the floor. My hands shake as I roll up my sleeve. The mark is still there. And for the first time, in the dim light, I realize It looks like a bite.