Sasuke Curse Marks Novels & Stories

Then he turned. The movement was slow. Deliberate. As if he had all the time in the world and knew exactly what he was doing. And that's when I saw it. On his forehead—no, branded into his fur, burned into his flesh like a scar that had healed silver—was a mark. Or maybe it was just a birthmark, I couldn't tell from the distance. But it was unmistakable. Three crescents. Interlocked. Their tips pointing inward towards a center point that seemed to pulse with its own light, though that might have been a trick of the shadows.

"Kyla, you can't beat me. No matter when, no matter what, you'll end up dying by my hand. I used to be kind. I even gave you six months to live, but you just had to push me. Now, I'll send you straight to hell." She lifted her hand. On her palm was that familiar symbol. "Scared? Then get on your knees and beg." Francis looked just as pleased, already calculating how much money Sally would bring in once she made her comeback. I smiled. "Sally, when you were coughing up blood earlier, that little symbol didn't do a thing. What makes you think it'll save you now?" "That's because I didn't… Wait. How do you know about that?" Sally's heartbeat spiked. "You're not supposed to know. That's impossib

“It means her body is a living vessel. It’s destruction and rebirth in the same breath. Her blood can amplify any power it touches, dominance, chaos, creation, and ruin. That’s why they all want her. Damien wants to drink it, Cassian wants to wield it, and the others we haven’t even seen yet will come for it too. Or they’ll kill her to keep it from being used at all.” I dragged both hands down my face. “And the hallucinations?” “The mark.” Mara’s voice softened. “Whoever she marks first draws the curse into themselves. It’s not a gentle thing. The bond pulls everything dark inside her—the rage, the grief, and the raw uncontrolled force—and funnels it through the one she chooses. If you survi

"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

"You are no weakling, Hera. You are the strongest person I know. Don't ever forget that." His words washed over me like a soothing balm, momentarily easing the relentless ache in my back. But the pain was persistent, a throbbing reminder of the curse that clung to me like a shroud. "I need to see it," Davien insisted, his voice laced with concern. I hesitated, reluctant to show him this mark of my fragility. But under his insistent gaze, I relented, pulling down the silk of my gown to reveal the bruise. It wasn't just a bruise. It was a grotesque disfiguration, a swirling mass of purple and black that seemed to pulsate with an unnatural light. It was the mark of the curse, a constant reminde

" I demanded, dropping to my knees beside Kieran. Up close, I could see the marks were not tattoos—they moved, pulsed, like living things crawling beneath his skin. "Sera." Kieran's eyes found mine through his agony. They were filled with such pain it made my chest ache. "Run. Get away from me. Please." "What is this?" I reached for him but hesitated. The marks looked dangerous, wrong. "Curse," he gasped out. "Witch's curse. Cannot speak of it. Cannot—" He screamed again as the shadows crawled up his jaw. A woman's voice cut through the chaos, cold and amused.

Krys added, but I was still a bit confused. “How do you know that?” I asked. “Look deep into his eyes.” Kole said, pointing to Armen's eyes. “They hold the cursed mark of a serpent biting on its own tail. That is the cursed mark of a shaman witch.” I squinted my eyes, looking deep into Armen's eyes and I could see it too now. It was buried deep in his blue eyes, the mark of a burning serpent eating its own tail. “That wasn't there before. It seems to be only triggered when Ava is around.” Krys observed.

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.

"The way your ancestors treated them contributed to the curse placed on your bloodline." I banged my fist on my throne's arm, my blood boiling with anger. "Who are you to speak of my ancestors?!" I snarled, bursting out in anger. Alpha Dominic offered an explanation. "I understand it isn't your fault, but the curse is still on your bloodline. From the conversation I had with the wizard, the deep scar your ancestors left on them hasn't healed on bit." I gritted my teeth in suppressed rage, knowing it was useless arguing with them. They were right.

The real Raiden was still in there, clawing his way to the surface every chance he got. I stepped beside him and rested my hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll figure this out.” The words came easily. Believing them… That was another story. Because the truth was, I didn’t have the faintest idea how we were supposed to beat something we didn’t fully understand. Before another thought could settle in my mind… I saw it. Again. The black curse marks crawling along the side of Raiden’s neck shimmered beneath his skin. A slow…. Gentle… Silver pulse. It stayed a little longer this time.