Mohawk Mark Harem Novels & Stories

The girl shrank back, but her face was plastered ahead. She squinted, trying to read the name on the neon sign above their heads. Dom Krovi. It was a joint she recognized, infamous for taking young girls off the road then tag and ship them to some foreign country or keep them for use, neither was better. Dom Krovi was owned by a Russian mob, and they weren't people to mess with. A man's back appeared, blocking Hannah's petrified face.

Maximus replied and rolled up sleeves of his right hand and showed up his right hand… Draco was having his eyes fixed on Maximus wrist as he asked him “What is that?” Maximus was bearing a red burned thin fish shaped mark which was in shape of a circle and moon… “I don’t know…. I just found this on my hand…. old guard told us that we can’t leave until we bear this mark on our flesh… to prove their words old guards even threw us out of border of Nakota but we ended up getting burning pain in our entire body….” Maximus replied

Not high-rank or council blood, but sharp, loyal, and trusted near restricted territory. Years ago, Marek was accused of attacking a ritual attendant during a Moon Rite inspection. He fled before judgment, officially branded a rogue. But Tovan remembered the detail everyone else had dismissed as madness. As warriors dragged him away, Marek had screamed the same phrase over and over. “They are keeping wolves under the house.” No one spoke. The wind through the pines sounded like a held breath. Galen pulled the patrol archive copy from his pack, his fingers trembling slightly as he traced the damaged page.

Seth felt a sharp ringing explode in his ears. “What nonsense are you saying?!” His voice was hoarse. “Which Layla?!” One of the maids looked close to tears. Hands shaking, she hurriedly held out her phone. “The Layla who was supposed to be marked by you… They’re saying she’s the heir of Starmoon Pack, and now she’s been mated to Blackthorn Pack’s Alpha. Two major packs joined together… everyone’s talking about it…” Seth snatched the phone from her hand, his gaze locking onto the screen.

My eyes lock onto a massive, fresh claw mark gouged deep into the concrete wall ahead. "I want to catch that Werewolf."

“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.

Because Jake and Kev appear to be very insulted by the insinuation that they’ll need more than me in their bed. Except that’s not how I grew up. This concept of mates being faithful isn’t something I understand. Hell, even Marcus said he considered adding me to his harem, and that was after rejecting me as his mate. The comment didn’t even phase me. Because that’s the Blood moon way, and the same applies to the Santeetlah Wolves, too. But not to the Carnage Wolves, something Jake , Kev , and Jordan have all made very clear. “When I make this pussy mine, it’s the only one I’m ever going to

"I'm busy with something." "Right, so there's been a few hindrances," Marct said, standing up from Jackson's lap and walking over to me. "I just had a report from my guys. Someone has been following Jackson in the last week," I fought the urge to gasp and kept a straight face, while my heart picked up. "Two people, to be exact. They're from another Mafia. The Scorpios," Marct placed his iPad right in front of me, showing a picture of a man walking across the screen, wearing all black, with a cap covering his face. Right at the back of his left hand was a tattoo of a scorpion. "Do you recognise it?"