Soul Marks Novels & Stories

Ivy He was going to soul mark me. I remember vaguely sometime ago what a soul mark was. It was the deepest commitment two mates can have. It’s not just marking your mate’s body but rather marking her soul in a way that binds both the mates’s souls together for an eternity. As such, when one mate dies, the other mate is bound to die too because the pain tatters the soul in a way that couldn’t be survived.

I had been able to see the labels above people's heads ever since I was little. When I was three, my grandpa held a family dinner at his house. Dad showed up with his secretary, Vivian Clarke. The moment she walked through the door, she went straight to Mom's seat. She rubbed her lower back and smiled sweetly. "Mrs. Lincoln, I hope you don't mind. Mr. Lincoln and I have been working on a project all day, and we're exhausted." I looked around the room. Above Eric's head was a glaring label. "Cheater." Above Mom's head was a dull gray label. "Loser." And above Vivian's head was a brightly shining label. "Ultimate gold digger." I immediately tugged on Eric's sleeve and asked loudly, "Dad, what

But he was still anticipating seeing what would be his next move. Carson just placed his hand right over the blanket covering his hard rock dick. He had his one leg was stretched straight and other was bent inside... He was looking no less than a sexy model. Displaying his tattoos. Only Carson among the three had tattoos on his body. His arm had a black band; his right leg had an ANCHOR right above his ankle and not to forget the DEVIL TRYING TO CATCH HIS NIPPLE. Well it was a devil printed on his chest above his left nipple extending his hand as in to grab his nipple.

Devours me. This isn't mere obsession. It’s not some whim. It’s her. Our fated mate. Mine. My brothers’. The soul that has belonged to us since before this life. There’s something about her that pulls at me mercilessly. Something primal. Instinctive. Savage. I couldn’t just sit still and wait for fate to correct its mistake. So I did what I do best: I tracked her. I found her address. I infiltrated her apartment. I became her shadow. Her silent observer.

she began, “you marked me as your wolf mate. But for us, for the Fae, we mark each other as soulmates.” I leaned back, standing up straighter as I listened to her. “The wolf mark,” she continued, “is an external mark. You can give it to anyone, fated or chosen, and you could technically mark more than one mate in your lifetime, if you were to lose your first mate. But for Fae, we mark each other’s soul, and we only have one mark to give, and we can only give it to our soulmate.” “So I have to give you this soul mark?” I asked, and she nodded. “But I’m not Fae,” I pointed out.

I say, pushing those thoughts aside “It doesn’t always work, but if, immediately after someone’s soulmate has died, if they receive a mark from someone else, it’s possible to save them.” “A mark,” Dinah mutters “As in, a bite?” “Something like that. Here, people call it a marking ceremony. It’s no simple mark, but an exchange of energy, in a sense. After receiving a mark from someone, the scent of a lycan changes as well, and the soulmate bond is finally, fully established.” “So Sir Theodore tried to save the Empress’ life and it worked?” Dinah raises a brow, I nod “I’m glad things worked out for them but, um, I do have a question.”

Alexei closed his eyes and laughed again, still holding her. “He’s shouting right now. He’s asking me to mark you.” Carla raised an eyebrow. “You already marked me today. Several times, actually. My thighs can testify to that.” “It’s not just the body. It’s the soul. It’s the bone. It’s a name on the astral skin. A mark forever. A mark even on the spirit.” “He wants that mark,” Alexei said, touching the side of her neck, the exact spot where Lycans left their spiritual mark. “The permanent one.”

In wolves, marks are important because they show other male wolves that a female is spoken for similar to wedding rings in the human world. It also joins us with our mates, so to speak, it's a way to combine and connect our souls to make them complete. As the story is told, we are one separated into two so we can have a perfect literal soul mate, and we finally feel whole when we connect with our goddess given mates. This also gives us the added benefits of feeling what our mate feels and a stronger connection to them in every other way to including better mind links at longer distances.

The three marks on Wren’s inner forearm itched with a low, persistent thrum, a living tattoo of longing etched into her skin by a ritual gone beautifully, catastrophically wrong. They weren't scars, but claims waiting to be made. One for tender worship, one for rude praise, one for slow dominance. Tonight, the first of them, a silvery crescent like a wolf’s gentle bite, burned with a need that was becoming a torment.

I am listening,” her voice barely audible, but even if it was just her breath, I knew that I would be able to hear it. “Like I told you, the mark has gone deep, too deep to be removed. It's like it how connected to your soul, which is why you feel even the slightest pain from his betrayal” “So you think getting another mark and going through another series of pain was the solution?” She had a judgmental look as her eyes trailed down at me from head to toe. She had every reason to be like that, and I wouldn't blame her. “It's a way of forming another connection, that way once you are pulled away from the previous one, you can be able to survive it”