Novel & Cerita Sasuke Curse Mark Level 3

My mouth fell open in shock, and I stuttered, “What the actual...fuck you, you bloody psycho...” “Careful,” he cut me off smoothly, his voice darker now, his eyes glowing red as fire as he lowered his mouth toward my throat, “the more you curse, the more I want to mark you. And once I mark you… you’ll never escape me.” “You stupid...don’t you...”

He knelt, searching my face. Then saw the brand. He gasped. He helped me stand. I leaned on him; legs weak. “What is it?” he demanded softly. I lifted my sleeve, revealing twisted symbols carved into my flesh—blood magically coalesced into runic script. “It’s his dying curse,” I said. Blue tears slid down his cheek. “Not my Luna. Not my queen.” I shook my head. “He knew. It’s in the brand—my power, reborn...or damned.”

My request made him stop in fear. “I don't—” “What are you ashamed of?” I asked carefully before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “The curse marks,” Izan said with some regret. “They are part of you,” I said carefully. “And I want you. I don't care about the marks. They are a symbol of your endurance that I want to kiss.” Izan stared at me with so much fear that I thought he was going to leave; however, he took off his flannel, his pants, and his underwear. Seeing him completely naked made me smile.

We dragged the bodies to the forest line, burned what wouldn’t die, and marked the site as cursed. Back at Darkhaven, the sky had darkened. Chito pulled me aside as the medics treated our wounded. He handed me a piece of fabric, charred, but intact. From the altar, a seal. A sigil older than Oryx, older than Hollow Fang. I stared at it. Then up at him, “What is this?” He looked at me grimly, “It’s not a clan,” he said. “It’s a name.” I frowned. “Whose?”

"We must present this to the elders. Right now. I intended to debate. I could manage this alone, I said. In my heart, though, I knew the truth. I couldn't. The pack elders gathered in the great hall, examining the mark on my wrist with stern expressions. One of them, Elder Miren, an elderly woman, used her fingertips to trace the dark lines. She went pallid. She said, "It's as I feared." Darius grimaced. "What do you mean?" Elder Miren's eyes locked with mine. "This mark is not typical. It is a symptom of an old curse. A shiver went through me. "A curse?" Her head nodded. A prophecy was made a long time ago. A darkly marked soul, a cursed soul that had the power to bring Viktor back, was men

Davil grows into a giant and a tear drops. "Losing her child and womb is nothing compared to what I plan to take from her. I will take and take until she is isolation and I will have the last attack. I will break her until there is nothing left to break. An eye for the whole body part, "he grin, and I walk backwards. Davil continues, "She doesn't deserve to be happy. A curse deserves to be treated as one"

"Sin, almost forcibly marked her this morning. We were talking, but then Sin lost his temper and took over." I shook my head negatively in disbelief. I could feel Night scratching at the wall of our minds to try to take over and he himself beat Dylan, how dare he try to forcibly mark her? "You got lucky." I commented with a cold tone. "Pay attention. Hope will rather take her own life than live with a forced mark. Do you know what the consequences are when someone marked would rather kill themselves than stay with the one who marked them?" I asked rhetorically, because the horror on Dylan's face was enough for me to know that he knew the answer, but I still spoke. "A curse is cast on the one

sarcasm laced with my words. Caleb bursts out laughing before he finally picked up his cup. He swirled the tea dramatically before taking a sip. “It might be hibiscus to you but it's definitely lemon to me.” I didn’t touch mine. I couldn't even think about the tea, not with what he just told me now. They hated me for my curse. Now, they hated me for finding a cure. What exactly do they want from me? My death? Caleb leaned back, watching me. “You know you’re too proud sometimes. I know you want to stand on your own, but the elders aren’t just people. They are the control networks joining all the packs together. They are the things you’ll need to run a successful race.”

I grabbed Damon’s hand and pulled him past Ethan. "Damon, let's go. The air here smells like trash. It’s ruining my appetite." Damon obediently let me lead him away. But as we passed shoulder-to-shoulder with Ethan, Damon turned his head slightly. For a split second, the runes on his suppressor collar flickered. A beam of pure, concentrated Killing Intent—a horror that only a high-level Alpha could fully perceive—locked onto Ethan. It felt like the weight of a mountain of corpses crashing down.

Not fully. But enough. “This is not the curse consuming me,” he said. “This is the bond demanding recognition.” “Then recognize it,” the elder challenged. Cassian turned back to Ava. The world narrowed again. Her throat felt exposed beneath his gaze. The mark. One bite. One decision. Permanent. The sun crested the horizon. Light spilled into the courtyard. Time was over. The bond pulsed harder. Faster. Cassian’s hand rose. The pack leaned forward.