Novel & Cerita Marquess Raid

"How do you know his name?" "Markus, aka Mark Orwell, is a warlock. He was also involved in the Darkwood rebellion. He managed to cross over to the mortal world with the key. Because of that, the underground creatures tried to hunt Markus to get the key he had brought until now. Whoever obtains the key will rule over the Kingdom of Darkwood and all human life." Rain snorted. "You guys are also after my dad? To get that key? That's why you — Jace — made me come here so I could take you to my dad?" Rain almost screamed.

~ 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.”

Marching outside, Alessia grabbed a stunned Marika—who was spiraling down an abyss of worry and negative speculations—with her. Stepping out of the cabin's door, they were greeted by the townspeople running away from a raised flag on the west, where the rumbling must've been coming from. Alessia squinted to see the flag better but it wasn't familiar to her. "Does anyone know what that flag means?" She asked nobody in particular. "Hmm," Clyde answered. "Those are the infamous raiders. Tsk. They're here to rob the village of their wealth and sense of security. Quick, help me evacuate the village people."

Former known as Regulus Twin Goddess. They became a fallen noble because rejecting the proposal of duke son. He was enrage seeing a Marquis reject a Duke proposal and using it’s army to attack Regulus Town. The Marquuis Family is survive but not for the citizen. They then got labelled as criminal by slaughtering it own citizen. From that time the Marquis family became a bandit that targeting those affiliated with that Duke Family. Looking at the battle in front if us that coming to end, i then pat their shoulder and says.

Aria on the other hand, sit on the royal chair provided to her. "This is Marqus. It might be weirder than it seems, but we are odd friends. He is the Lighten Prince." Conri introduces Marqus to Aria who is eating the remaining moon drops grapes carnally. She let her eyes explore the physiques of the young man on their side. Marqus has a slim, tall, pale white body. He is currently wearing a green bracae, an animal skin sandalon, and an ordinary thin coat garment. His hair is charmingly straight and grey. It is long to his elbow level. But, what has allured the maiden is the beautiful scar on his left eyelid that looks like caused by a slash wound...

He asked in a deep bass "I will" she said, her voice now steady but still trembling beneath the surface. She could feel her fathers gaze on her, proud and expectant. Lena stepped forward deliberately and placed her hands on Darius's chest. This was the tradition, the female marked first, signalling consent and courage. Fire surged through her veins as she stood on tiptoes and moved her mouth to the crook of his neck, she pierced his skin with her razor sharp teeth and then licked the wound clean, sealing their bond into his skin. Two half crescents now adorned Darius's neck, Black in colour to signify a chosen mate. Chosen mates marks were always black, fated mates came in so many colours.

“Serenya. I am an Alpha of command, not chatter. What I speak, you breathe. You belong to me. I bet None dared touch you—none dared even breathe near you—at the sound of my name and the mention of my fangs glowing between your thighs.” His cheap boast scalds my skin. My wolf rakes against my ribs, but I choke back the truth burning in my chest: the second mark. A true mate’s brand seared into me, hidden. My mother’s warning tolls like a bell of doom—the second mark must never be revealed. I watch Varyn glory in his hollow strength. “Prepare yourself. Return with the young Alpha,” he says, as if his command carries weight over my life. My pride flares, a blaze that will not bow.