Sinister Mark Invincible Comics Novels & Stories

'' Kathie said. The duo were now in Sylvia's living room. Even though what Kathie said was the truth, Sylvia couldn't help but feel scared. Mark was unlike any other villain they had ever seen. The man, that is if he was human, killed people for fun. He was not only seen as the world's worst villain but also the man nobody wanted to cross. His name alone sent fear into the hearts of many people and seeing him physically could actually give them a heart attack. ''Don't think about it Sylvia. Remember you're not alone. You have me and Remus and Brett to help you and last time i checked, Remus had a bone to pick up with him.'' Kathie laughed.

No one has been able to survive their onslaught. The pack rose to prominence after Zavion Kessler- better known as Invictus- the unconquerable- ascended to the throne. He is called unconquerable both in terms of battle skills and looks. They say he is the handsome devil with a soul as bright as the new moon. You getting it, right? He doesn’t know what mercy is. He feeds off on violence and thrives in others' fear. None of his victims got the opportunity to look beyond his vicious death claws. It is also believed that the barbaric alpha eats his victims’ heart and bathes in their blood to enhance his power. Some say he has made a pact with a demon of hell who shares his power with him and in

"A birthmark, Alpha? What exactly are we looking for?" "It’s not a normal mark," Malcolm said, his voice cold. "It looks like a botched tattoo, dark, blurred, and circular. Like a moon that’s been burnt into the skin. If you see that mark, do not engage. Just mark the target and get out. That’s not just a hunter; that’s someone marked by the Inverse Moon." I felt a chill run down my spine. We weren't just dealing with men with guns anymore; we were dealing with a cult that had successfully infiltrated our entire supply chain.

I held her hand tightly. Fear gripped me, threatening to paralyze me, but I knew I couldn't let him see my weakness. Markus surveyed the surroundings, a sinister smile playing on his lips. It gave me the time to assess his look. If I were right, he was around my father's age. His gray eyes held a dark, predatory gleam. His presence exuded malevolence. Every inch of him oozed power and manipulation as if he reveled in the chaos and pain he caused everyone to feel right now.

he begged, its voice barely audible over the howling wind. Mark's laughter was cold and mirthless, a chilling sound that sent shivers down the spine as the sand stung his face. "Do you know what they call me?" he asked, his voice low and menacing, his words almost lost in the storm. The minion hesitated, his eyes darting wildly around the desolate landscape before fixing on Mark's face. "N-no," he stammered, his voice barely audible over the wind. Mark's smile was cruel and unforgiving, his eyes glinting with a deadly light as the sand swirled around him. "They call me Death Marksman," he hissed, his voice carried away by the wind. "Remember it!"

With a low sigh, Sin raised her head and licked at the wound. I reached for Sin, my patience gone. “Mark your alpha, omega,” I growled, turning my head to expose my neck. “You want me to mark you there?” Sin asked. I looked at her. “You can mark me anywhere you want to, doll. As long as I get to feel you inside me.” Smiling, Sin reached for my hand. Holding it in hers, she brushed her fingers over mine, telling me to open my hand. With my palm exposed, she gripped my wrist and raised my hand to her mouth.

Instead, he reached out, his long fingers gently but firmly grabbing my wrist, lifting my hand up between us. With his other hand, he slowly, deliberately pulled back the long cream sleeve of my top. The four dark, angry purple fingerprint bruises David had left on my arm were exposed to the harsh, bright daylight. Mark’s entire body went rigid. The casual, arrogant air he always carried vanished in a split second, replaced by a terrifying, cold fury that turned his eyes completely black His jaw set so tightly the muscles in his neck bulged against his collar. "Who did this to you?" Mark asked, his voice dropping into a deadly, vibrating rumble that made the hair on my arms stand up. "He dar

My fingers clawed at the fabric, tearing it open until the light burned clear and bright. A mark. Etched into the flesh just below my collarbone, glowing faintly like molten metal. It wasn’t static—it moved, the sigil twisting as if alive, forming and reforming itself with each breath I took. “Cain,” I whispered, voice trembling despite myself. “What is this?” He froze. For once, the unshakable Alpha looked unmoored. His gaze locked on the mark, pupils contracting sharply. “Don’t move,” he said, low, controlled, but I could feel the panic buried beneath.

“There’s energy in the stone. Old energy. His.” “Blood?” Alex asked. She nodded. “Some of it recent.” That was when I saw it—on the far wall, in dried strokes that hadn’t been there the last time I came: a mark drawn in claw. The old glyph for challenge. And below it, carved deeper: YOU LIVE ON STOLEN STRENGTH. RETURN WHAT ISN’T YOURS. Alex’s voice dropped. “He doesn’t want to kill you. He wants to make you doubt.” “He doesn’t need to,” I said. “I already do.”

His arm tightened around her waist, hand splaying possessively over her abdomen, fingers dipping just below her navel. She shifted, the faint scent of him filling her lungs, the warmth of his thigh nudging hers. She didn't pull away, didn't question. Instead, she rested against him, the mark humming bright, drawing them closer in the silence. Malachor's lips brushed her shoulder, a feather-light touch. The faint light in the ruins began to shift, dawn's gentle glow seeping through the tangled vines and broken arches like a whispered promise, painting the ancient stone walls in hues of soft gold and shadow.