Sasuke's Curse Mark Novels & Stories

"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

Main characters Braylon Scott An alpha who lived for 100 years suffering under the consequences of a curse. His kind (the Alphas) were stuck in dog form, to lift the curse he will have to look for (THE OWNER— a person with special ability and must be a successor of the owner of the curse). In the process of trying to survive, he was saved by Imogene who raised his curse and he fell in love with her. Imogen Crawford

Looking straight at Asher, alpha Blake hardened his stare, "I mean it Ash, Arya needs to get marked by Adonis before the moon is at its highest, that is part of his curse that he shares with her, if they don't mark each other soon they will both be dead. You can't mark her, no matter how badly you're wolf wants to. Do you understand?" Asher clenched his fists as his chest heaved up and down, nodding once he hardened his stare to the point that made it clear he that understood the severity of the situation.

My past self explodes into sobs of relief. But I— the present me— am choking. “No,” I whisper. “No—don’t show her this—don’t let her see—” The curse smiles. “Oh, she will. She must. It is her story too.” Lyra’s body in the memory shudders— and a mark appears over her heart. A faint crescent. A brand of resurrection. A bond she never agreed to. A tether to me she never asked for. Then another mark flares across my past chest—white-hot, searing, the first spark of the curse embedding itself into me.

It's worse than I imagined. A jagged scar cuts across his ribs, but it's not just a scar. The flesh is blackened and twisted, and within it, something glows—a deep, pulsing red light like embers in dying coals. The mark is shaped like a broken moon encircled by thorns, and as I watch, shadows writhe beneath his skin, spreading out from the mark like roots. "This is the Bloodwraith Mark," he says, his voice hollow. "My father tried to break a sacred bond, and Vorrak punished our entire bloodline for it. This curse turns emotion into hunger. The stronger I feel, the more dangerous I become. And with you…" He shakes his head. "Everything I feel is amplified a hundredfold. Your fear feeds me. Yo

Canan was the one to suppress him by burning the black mark that appeared on Onimura's left shoulder. Cursed marks can appear at any part of the upper body once a Starlian loses his sense to think rationally and be consumed by hatred or any strong negative emotions. These marks can be burned when they appear, but only once. It will also leave a scar on the person, a proof that he or she is a survivor. If the corruption returns, then there will be no other choice but to kill the host of the cursed mark. "I know it's inevitable, but should it come to that…I hope I will not be the one to do it."

“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

In his palm: a jagged obsidian shard glowing with an inner black flame. Xavier (hoarse, whispering): “You were chained for centuries. Buried by fear. Fed lies. I see you.” He presses the blade to the stone and carves a looping sigil of flame and chain. The mark glows dark violet, then pulsing red. Xavier: “I carry your curse. I share your rage.” The dungeon trembles. Dust falls. Then—* A howl—low, deep, ancient—rises from the mark like smoke turned sound.

Arth whispered, “is a demonic transformation?” The black and red strings ran along Janshai’s skin, forming dark symbolic lines, like black and red tattoos on his neck, arms, legs, and face. A red triangular mark glowed brightly at the center of his chest. As Janshai opened his eyes, the white part had turned black, while his iris had stayed as dark red. “Daemon Rex Maledictum … Demon King’s Curse,” Janshai spoke, his voice much deeper, darker than usual. He gave one swing of his red glowing scythe, creating a strong force blasting around the place.

"What is it? What’s wrong?" “The mark…” I managed to choke out, my voice barely more than a ragged breath. I pulled the coat tighter around me, but I knew he could see it — the ugly, burning black symbol spreading across my side. The dark lord's final curse. The dark mark was reacting to my weakened state, feeding on it, growing stronger. Arthur’s jaw clenched. “We need to stop it. How?” I hesitated, feeling embarrassed at what I was about to say. I could barely meet his eyes. “A mate’s mark,” I whispered, the words caught painfully in my throat. “It’s the only thing strong enough to suppress it. I—I need you, Arthur.”