Mitsuri Marked Novels & Stories

'I got this' I assured him. "Would you like to tell me about your mate?" I asked changing the topic. "What has that got to do with this?" He asked. "Is she tall and beautiful? Dark haired? kind and sweet?" I teased him waiting for a reaction and I wasn't disappointed. He struggled to break free from the chain but it only burned him more. Something told me it was silver. "She is dead" he lied. In the book I was reading when the mate of a mated wolf dies the mate mark begins to slowly fade. But his was still burning.

“Hey Evander, see the new neck art on your Beta?” I look at Mark, he and Tyson are sporting very handsome marks. A mark is formed by mates biting each other on the collarbone. Chosen mate marks are dry crusty and not attractive. Fated mate marks like Tyson and Marks’s are shiny pictures like tattoos. Tyson is sporting a red and blue M with a wolf howling. Mark has a gold T with stars around it. Seeing them makes me want to mark Marcella now. The full moon is coming. I’m so excited to sink my teeth into her.

​"Now, Aris!" ​As the doctor quickly hooked up the leads and adjusted the sensors, I stood back, my hands trembling. I stared at her neck. The Mark, that beautiful curse that had started all of this, was no longer its usual faint silver. It was pulsing. A toxic, bruised violet light emanated from her skin, casting an eerie glow across the underside of her jaw. It looked like a living thing, a parasite gorging itself on whatever was left of her spirit. Just like it did with the void.

I answered him. Malachi watched me for a few seconds then walked away when Marcus told me to lie down on the foldable bed he’d brought along. They all stayed there with me in the basement as Marcus worked on my back. I felt immensely proud to be receiving my Alpha mark. Gunnar was the only one that wasn’t there. He would only receive his mark when he turned 18, and therefore, he wasn’t allowed to participate in the ceremonies yet. “He thought you were bringing him to the basement because you know what he did,” Malachi said softly, to Kiran. I picked up on his voice, and I closed my eyes and concentrated on their conversation as they stood in the corner speaking to each other.

She lifts her hand, tilting it so moonlight spills across the soft skin of her wrist— And suddenly silver glows beneath it. Not a tattoo. Not magic. Not something artificial. A mark. Moon-bright. Alive. My breath leaves me in a quiet, stunned exhale. “A moon-mark,” I whisper. She nods, jaw tightening as if bracing for disappointment. “Since you’re my mate, you have a right to know. I got my wolf early—way early. And she’s powerful. People say moon-marked wolves are rare but…” She swallows. “Some think rare means dangerous.”

Looking at Lorn, He continued, "You will see. It is impossible to teach that lesson to a mate when you want nothing but to please them." Selene clicked her tongue in frustration and reminded them, "Mark and Talons's marks, remember?" At that, the couple exposed their necks, showing their marks. As they had thought, Talons' mark was a white moon with a wolf exactly like Mark's staring lovingly up at it, and they were surrounded by a purple glow. Just as Mark's mark was his wolf, with the moon behind him wrapping him in her loving white glow while surrounded by a purple glow, Mark's mark was his wolf, with the moon wrapping him in her loving white glow while surrounded by a purple glow. The ot

“Oh, that’s not what I meant. This is a miracle produced by Magical waters,” Mark said. “I don’t understand,” Violet muttered. “It’s kinda hard to explain. But if I have it, I will show it to you kids,” Mark said. “I can’t wait to see it in person,” Mali muttered. “You will see it soon enough,” Mark promised. “By the way, do you have any goals?” she asked. “I want to be a doctor, Pack. I want to help any injured werewolves,” Mila replied without waiting a long time.

I grabbed myself a sandwich, a small bowl of fruit, and a cup of coffee and headed out to the back patio. “Raina! Let me see your mark!” Lizzie squealed as I made my way to sit down. She didn’t give me a chance to respond before she was moving my hair from my shoulder and looking at my mated mark. The mark had completely healed and was red and blue with a crescent moon and two stars. “I have never seen one so colorful!” Lizzie nearly screamed again as she looked at my mark. “So. Loud. Lizzie!” I stammered out as she continued to look me over. We both laughed as she spun me around, looking at me.

She craned her neck and twisted her arm, and reached all the way under. She finally found what she was looking for. She stood, red-faced, and held up a small piece of paper. All of the other detectives stared back. “A ticket stub,” she said, examining it with her gloved hand. “Mezzanine Right, seat 3. From tonight’s concert.” She looked up and stared hard at all of her detectives, who stared blankly back. “You think it belonged to the killer?” one of the masked. “Well, one thing I know,” she said, taking one final look at the dead, Russian opera star. “It didn’t belong to him.”