Marked By The Pureblood Alpha Novels & Stories

One can reject the unmarked mate, kill the unmarked mate and they will only feel immense pain, but if someone's marked mate dies. They die with them. The Alpha King grits his teeth and stubbornly pushes his hand forward, as his claws nudge my beating heart. My head spins and my hand drops down from his. Blood splatters out of my mouth, but my eyes never leave his silver gray orbs. It's unbearable. It's deadly...The pain. But, I can rest in peace now. The Alpha King - Cain Reyes feels it... My pain. And if I die... He will die with me.

“It is not stamped into your blood because you were born a witch… or a werewolf… or anything else. Evil is a choice. An individual’s choice. Yes, there are many evil witches out there. But there are also evil werewolves. Evil humans, evil anything. So… are we going to judge guilt based on race?” The question hung in the air, curling into their thoughts. Then, from somewhere near the back, a man’s voice rang out. “Who are you?” I turned toward him, meeting his eyes without flinching. My spine straightened. “I am Selene,” I said, every word precisely. “Your Alpha’s mate.” A ripple went through the crowd followed by gasps and murmurs. Heads turning to one another. Some faces lit with surprise,

“The fire is lit in the center of the clearing, and the air fills with the hum of our chant. It starts soft, barely a whisper, then builds until the sound crawls through your bones. The circle closes in, tighter and tighter, until there’s nowhere to run.” He glanced at my hand, then back to my face. “The Alpha steps forward. And right there, in front of everyone, the change begins. Bones shift. Skin tears. Fur bursts through. The air reeks of raw power.” I swallowed. “Then comes the mark. For males, the Alpha takes the back of the hand—three deliberate claws, deep enough to scar, but never to kill. For females, the claws drag across the back, over the heart. The pain is… more than pain. It’s

“You know there’s more to it than that. We’ve always known who the next Alpha is from the moment they’re born.” Right. I forgot about that part. My birthmark—the one shaped like a crescent moon on my left shoulder blade—has been the telltale sign of my lineage. Every Alpha in my bloodline had the same mark, passed down through generations. It’s how they know, even before we shift for the first time, that we’re destined to lead. “They’ll be expecting to see it,” Dad continues. “Your birthmark. It’s part of the ceremony.” “Of course they will,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. “Because nothing says leadership like flashing a room full of wolves.”

I said with sharp eyes. "No need for violence, Lucas " "I'm not an Alpha " "But you're an Alpha of her fate, you know?" He said and I froze. How come he knows so much about me that I know. He walked closer to reach me and dropped a small object on the ground and I shifted backward. It was a small black crescent and it was moon marking, carved like a small stone and it's glowing faintly. Every legend about Blood Moon children flashed in my head. "What does this mean?" I asked.

“No… I…I don’t know anything. It’s always been there since I was born.” Her hand trembled as she traced her hands on the glowing edge. “This is not just a normal birthmark.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “This is the Mark of the Aetherborn… the bloodline of ancient witches. Not just any type of witch…this is the mark of the good witches” My heart stopped. Lauren stepped back slowly, eyes wide. “Alia… you are one of them.” The room spun for a moment. Everything went silent. I stared at her, breath shaking.

“Not to strangers, not to bargains.” The stranger smiled like a thin blade. “No one here has a patent on power, Alpha,” he said. His voice was smooth as oil. “Power moves. People want it. You can keep her as a child, hide under your law, or you can let us ensure she grows strong enough to protect the pack. That protection is expensive. It requires… binding.” An elder’s hand rose like a judge slapping a gavel. “Binding is the law for heirs,” he said. “A mark given in the Moon Grounds makes the child Blackmoor’s own. It keeps bloodlines pure and power tempered.”

He spreads his arms as if welcoming applause. “Families?” he echoes. “You dare talk about blood?” His eyes rake over me. “You’re a half-breed bastard sitting on a throne that was never meant for you. You don’t carry pure blood. You don’t carry the right. And yet you call yourself Alpha?” A murmur ripples through the crowd, anger, agreement, fear. Markus’s smile widens. “We’re not traitors. We’re fighters. Fighting for what was stolen from us. For a pack ruled by its own, not some cursed mistake pretending to lead.”

As he clapped his hand, the alpha chief of the Red Dawn pack emerged from the mist, his wicked eyes gleaming with a malevolent grin as he surveyed their group, saying, “Well, well, well, what do I have on my territory? I think I’m going to have so much fun with the hybrid.”