Sasuke Uchiha Curse Mark 소설 & 이야기

he whispered, “is the Curse of the First Luna.” A chill shot through me. “The… what?” He raised his eyes to meet mine—full of sorrow. “It is a curse older than the packs themselves. A curse placed upon those who rewrite destiny. Those who shift the fate written by the Moon Goddess.” I blinked at him, stunned. “I don’t understand.” He exhaled shakily. “Charlotte… every time someone alters destiny or breaks the natural path, they pay with their soul. The crescent mark… it represents the countdown.”

I looked at where the mark should have been again. “What do you mean by we rejected the mark?” I asked. “The curse,” she said, “It turned his marking to poison. If we hadn’t had been as strong an Alpha as we are then it would have killed you, killed us.” I could feel the tears slipping “I hate this curse!” I whispered, “So he can only mark me in wolf form?” “I’m afraid so,” she said sadly. “Ana?” I asked “Yeah?” “Is there any other way to get you fully free?” I closed my eyes and prayed to the moon goddess.

What if the girl gets suspicious? But, unexpectedly, Leona just nodded her head with a smile. Allowing William to heave a sigh of relief. Turns out she didn't really think much of Ethan's rambling words. "Let's go!" William said then walked out of the dining room. Without waiting any longer, Ethan immediately followed his cousin. Until Leona was alone in the room. Leona chuckled, "A wolf? That suits him. His personality is quite similar to that of a wolf. His aura is scary, his gaze is sharp, and don't forget, he likes meat," Leona muttered before shoving the food into her mouth casually.

"Something funny?" Lorenzo didn't bother fixing his collar where I'd yanked it open. He just leaned back against the wall, his spine curved in a way that highlighted the sharp line of his collarbone. Against his paper-white skin, I caught a glimpse of something dark red. It was a complex, jagged pattern—a "Curse Mark" left behind on the flesh when a wolf spirit has been pushed past its breaking point. It looked hauntingly eerie against his sickly pallor. "You're about to drive poor Fabian into a spiritual meltdown," he said, his voice laced with amusement. That low, melodic rasp was like a slow-acting poison; it was hard to stay mad at him.

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...”

“Why does every instinct I have scream that she belongs to us?” “Because the curse is adapting,” Miasan said quietly. “Growing. It’s been trying to break you for years, and now it’s found a new method. A girl who should not exist, who triggers all your possessive instincts without being your actual mate. It’s the perfect trap.” “So what do we do?” Malachi asked. “Remove the marks? Send her away?” “That would be wise—” “But it won’t work,” I finished, understanding dawning. “Will it? The damage is already done. Marking her triggered something. Removing the marks now won’t reverse it.”

" 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.

Like my soul knew the meaning of the words even if I didn’t understand them. The ground trembled and I flinched as the rune beneathe my feet glowed in tandem with the mark I could feel pulsing just below my collar bone. The same mark I could see glowing beneath Orion’s shirt. A mark that resembled a crescent moon. “Whatever happens,” he warned. “Don’t move, don’t speak. Don’t feel anything.” I stiffened. If moving could mess up brejaking this curse, then I would be as stoic as a statue.

Cold blood in our veins, hunger we can’t satiate, Day by day we face ourselves and see the hate. This gift of ours, the curse that always radiate, Deep within us, we only destroy but never create. -G -==- “Sadraka?” Gin repeated, staring at his brother. “The Caster? The one who put the curse on us? That Sadraka?” Augustus firmly nodded, discarding the thick book on the long table as he started to pace their mansion’s study area. He pulled Gin inside the room, wanting to confirm his theory about the black band he saw Chessa wearing. He suddenly felt an itch to snatch it from her.

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.