Marquess Raid Novels & Stories

His eyes hungered at the sight of her silky skin,his mouth watered at the fullness of her lips and his nose ravished the smell of her rose perfume—something terrible was wrong with him,he thought and the sudden jolt of the car brought him back to his senses. Mark took a sharp turn into the ranch and three cop cars were spotted in front of the house,Marcus tensed as he stepped out of the car.There were a few familiar people gathered as well as Maurine who was crying fervently.Thomas Maury was also present and Marcus was tensed from his mischievous glare,he walked towards where everyone was gathered and then noticed the caution tapes—there it was......the horrific sight that almost took the li

The third was younger, taller, hair cut short, silver eyes, wild and bright. He smiled at me. “You’re Lira Vale.” I nodded, refusing to show fear. “Who are you?” He grinned wider, wolf-sharp. “You can call me Marek. I’m what happens when you leave the old stories unfinished.” His voice was too calm, too confident. He moved closer, ignoring Kael’s knife and Cass’s glare. “You think you ended it,” Marek went on, circling the fire. “You think you broke the chain. But the chain was just the surface. There’s something deeper here. Something the Sovereigns forgot.”

he said as we sped back toward the forest, “will regret dragging you into their mess. Because now I have to mark you sooner than I wanted.” My stomach dropped. “Mark me?” Milrac glanced at me, eyes burning. “Publicly. In front of the pack. So every rogue, every traitor, every member of your worthless family understands one thing.” His voice turned to velvet steel. “You are mine, Ava. And the next person who tries to take you from me dies screaming.” The car roared deeper into the trees. My wolf howled in response, equal parts terror and dark, traitorous excitement. The real war had just begun.

He instead set up an ambush by one of the small freshwater streams to catch her as she came close for a drink, as she has been on the run for a few days now. After Scarlett had gotten the better of Marcus and his males at the trap he set, putting one of his best guards in the pack hospital for a week, Marcus gave me control of a handful of his rogues with the option of having more join me as I continue my own search for her, but to take the heat off of me following Scarlett Marcus set up some random raid attacks on both Werewolf packs and Vampire clans, keeping both kings busy. I get the rogues that Marcus sent with me to wait at the border of the first pack Scarlett’s scent, well; the scent

"I hope never to hear the name of Mark Richard in this room again. Have I been clear?" She didn't respond with words; she only nodded slightly as she curled up in my bed, surrounded by my scent—the only one now permitted to claim her senses. After she sank into unconsciousness, I got up from the bed and left the room, leaving her once again locked under key. On the other hand, I headed straight for the stairs where Caleb awaited me, his face somber. "Is it done?" I asked, reclaiming my mask of professional coldness. "Mark is on his way to his pack’s hospital. My men intercepted the communications; they’ll say it was an attack by external mercenaries," Caleb replied, crossing his arms. "But K

“But I still have her scent.” Dutch exhaled smoke through his nose. “What about the girl? The kid?” Marquez’s eyes flashed. “She is not a problem,” he said dismissively. He poured himself another drink, and this time he downed it all at once. “Tell the mercs to prepare. We strike at dawn. I want her back in chains before she forgets what they felt like.” Dutch nodded and stepped out to give the order. Marquez turned to the jungle once more.

~ RAE’S POV ~ I didn’t hear Mara coming until she spoke. “You didn’t make it far.” I turned sharply. She stood at the other end of the bridge, arms folded, her hair messy, her eyes tired but alert. “I told you not to follow me,” I said. “I didn’t,” she said. “You left tracks. You’re not as invisible as you think.” I sighed. “You should’ve stayed at camp.” “And let you walk into his fire alone? Not a chance.”

Caius stated, his voice still a flat monotone, which only made the words more ominous. Lucian's knuckles whitened around his glass. "Define the problem." "The trackers weren't just Clearwater wolves," Caius explained. "Their scents were mixed. The leader... he carried the scent-mark of the Bloodmoon pack." The name dropped into the silence of the office like a stone. The Bloodmoon mercenaries. A nomadic pack of killers and thugs, loyal only to coin, known for their brutality and for leaving no witnesses. Kael hadn't just sent trackers. He had hired monsters.

You’re done, Marek. “Out!” he barked. “Hands where I can see them!” One by one, they obeyed, spilling onto the asphalt. Ragged, desperate men—mercs who looked more like rats dragged into light. They shuffled, disarmed, raising their hands. Fear stank off them, sharp as piss. Marco’s gaze burned past their faces, scanning, searching for the one he wanted. The one who haunted his every breath since Isabella’s capture. Marek.

With one clean swipe, I dragged them across his chest — tearing skin and muscle with the precision of a signature. A message. "Let them think a wolf did this." I stood over the corpse, silent, watching the blood pool around his throat like a final offering to the night. My expression didn’t waver — no regret, no guilt. Only cold calculation. My eyes narrowed on the claw marks I’d carved into his chest — jagged, deliberate, unmistakably wolf-like. “They’ll think a rogue did this,” I murmured, more to myself than to the trees. “A poor drunk, slaughtered in neutral territory. They’ll panic.”