Sinister Mark Fanart Novels & Stories

I pressed my hand to my nose, but it did little to dull the stench. Lying sprawled on the forest floor was a rogue. Or what was left of one. His body was twisted unnaturally, limbs bent at wrong angles, ribs cracked open like a chest cavity had been torn apart from the inside. Deep claw marks ran across his neck and abdomen, feral, not clean like ours. But it wasn’t just the brutality that froze me. It was the mark carved into his skin, burned into his chest. ‘Black magic,’ Dowen growled through the mindlink, his voice laced with disgust.

This one was crafted from matte black metal, the center inlaid with a single, highly polished piece of black onyx. She flipped it over. Engraved on the back, so fine she had to hold it up to the light, was a single, stylized mark: a perfect, unblinking wolf’s eye. It was a sign. A confirmation. A challenge. He was here. He had been waiting for her, or perhaps watching her, confirming his claim before Andre even had a chance. The stranger had left his brand on her bed. She tucked the cufflink deep into the pocket of her discarded robe. It felt hot, a forbidden, wicked secret burning through the clothes.

Marcus ordered. I did. Hand trembling, but I signed. The pen felt heavier than the collar around my neck. “Good girl.” Vesper took the papers and smiled. “Now the tattoos.” They laid me on the table. The artist they brought in was one of their own — silent, efficient, needles buzzing. First came the big one right over the brand: bold black letters spelling “COLLECTIVE CUM QUEEN” arched above my pussy. Then smaller marks on my inner thighs — “Free Use” on the left, “Breed Hole” on the right. A crown dripping cum right between my tits.

"Now, here's what's going to happen. Tonight is just for us. You're going to give me what I want.” He pressed his lips against my cheek. “And if you're very good, if you please me, I'll let you see Dante tomorrow. Deal?" Hatred consumed me. Pure, burning hatred unlike anything I had ever felt. But I nodded. Because what choice did I have? Marco smiled and guided me toward a waiting car. As he paused to speak with someone, I noticed the guard nearest to me had a knife clipped to his belt. It was a small, folding knife but it was better than no weapon at all.

Myra rocks back and forth, feeling suffocated, until she touches her hands to confirm his mark is still there, a mark she had scratched until it became red. Although she wanted to pretend his mark was a plague, she still found comfort in it. Myra doesn’t know how long she spends under the showers. She stayed underwater until she was certain this was reality, not a dream, but was there really a difference? She entered the room, only to find she wasn't alone. A familiar tall frame of the bird shifter Sinsa stood there, holding a book, but her eyes conveyed more concern as she rushed towards Myra. 'Oh my goodness, Myra,' She exclaims, catching Myra and leading her to the armchair, then bringing

Both of us were soaked. Seeing that I had also been splashed, the villager hurried forward, intending to apologize. However, the moment he looked at me, he fell silent as he stared in shock. I paused for a moment before realizing something was wrong. My heart sank. Sure enough, Aldric’s gaze shifted back and forth between Rosalind and me. “The Princess’s mark on her forehead washed away with the water, but Lady Leanora’s makeup faded… and revealed a real birthmark! Lady Leanora… She is the true Chosen One!”

44. Sinful I don’t know when I slept but I woke up by 3:00am; I was exhausted and hungry, I felt weak to my bones like I was about to faint. I struggled to push myself out of bed and when I did, I saw a tray of covered dishes on the bedside table, and a note that read: Just rest A

— T*****d t*****d Tap read Tap Read T*****D T*****d A****n A****n kindle Although werewolves are still unknown in modern society, we are one of the most powerful species, we rarely get sick, and excellent resilience makes our physical stronger. Once the wolf in our hearts awakened, we can transform into giant wolves that can easily tear apart any human being. Not to mention the Alphas in the wolf pack, they are even stronger than all wolves. As the leader, Alpha will never leave the pack easily unless they died. I swear that no matter what happens, my father will protect the pack until the last moment.

And there, under the light, were two perfect holes, right in his jugular vein. No blood. No signs of struggle. No torn clothing. Nothing else out of place. It was as if a bat had descended, sucked his blood perfectly clean, then flew away, without touching anything else. It was eerie. And outright terrifying. If his skin hadn’t turned completely white, she would have thought he was still alive, just taking a nap. She even felt tempted to go over and feel his pulse. But she knew that would be stupid. Sergei Rakov. He was young. And from what she’d heard, he’d been an arrogant prick. Could he already have had enemies?

Samael growled, “we will mark each other, as we are meant to be.” Lucan’s voice echoed in Samael’s mind, urging him forward. "Claim him now. He belongs to us." Morgan’s growl was deep, feral. "Mark him as ours." Samael bared his teeth, and without hesitation, he sank them into Allistair’s left chest, marking him for eternity. Allistair gasped, feeling the powerful rush of Samael’s essence flood into him. On Allistair’s chest, Samael’s mark appeared, a complex, glowing symbol that represented Lucan, Morgan, and Lucifer. The mark was that of a beast’s claw intertwined with the archangel's wings, glowing with an ethereal light that radiated power. Allistair’s form trembled as he, too, marked Sa