Soul Marks Novels & Stories

he breathes into my ear as he fucks me up against the tree. “What?” I gasp, both from his words and his brutal thrusting. He slows down a bit, “I want you to mark me.” Butterflies explode in my stomach and my heart thuds with happiness, but my mind races with doubt, “Are you sure? You would be binding your soul to mine.” One thing my mother described in great detail was the significance of a werewolves mark. It intertwines the souls together, making the bond unbreakable, though not for her apparently.

My body shuddered at his touch and my lips pulled into a frown, “what exactly is a marking? What does it entail?” “When a werewolf marks their mate, their souls become entwined. It proves that both sides have fully accepted the other and now belong to each other. A lifelong commitment. We can now sense the other's presence and thoughts as well as their pain and emotions. We're physically and mentally connected now, it's impossible to drive us apart. If you die, I’d be at a high risk of going insane from the pain and probably turn rogue and die.” I sucked in a sharp breath at that as my eyes trembled, “you'd risk that much for me?”

Though the more terrifying thought- perhaps I was just doing better? It had been a while since I had been to a club myself. Perhaps I could do this with three birds and one stone instead. Perhaps I could get my d*ck wet while also being lectured and getting my questions answered. I found myself growing eager for tonight's events. While I wasn't exactly looking forward to my brother scolding me. I was looking forward to finding a hot new mark. I like to think of my conquests as marks. Similar to a hitman. I find the person I want, then make them want to come with me. I've never been denied once. I have fame and good looks to thank for that. I know I probably come off as being vain, but in act

“They recognize you.” “Not me,” Veyra said. “What I carry.” She glanced at the faint gold still lingering beneath her skin, where the Vein’s mark had burned her. The Choir’s song shifted — now words were forming, fragmented and distorted, but clear enough to grasp. The current remembers. The Soulbound stirs. The cycle breaks. The sound pressed against her skull until her knees almost buckled. She forced herself upright, her voice cutting through the rising resonance. “Where is she?”

He began to speak, and my heart leaped in my chest. “A mate mark, my dear human, is a claim. It is not only a scribbled tattoo but also a deeper connection. Their souls intervene, and their hearts and minds create bonds. The mark changes your smell, telling everyone else you are taken. If you are claimed by someone else, nobody will touch you or look at you for too long.” It sounded like a fairy tale love story, both surreal and intimate. Every word that left his lips brushed against my skin, invisible claws reaching for my heart and mind. It was soothing, tempting, and breathtaking.

But this was not a regular mate mark doing this. This was a soul bond. She knew about those too. Rarer and very permanent. They are not a mark that faded with time or distance but a tie at the deepest level of what you were, woven into your soul and not just your blood. No fifty year window. No walking away. No workarounds. The bond held until one of them died and if you tried to put too much distance between yourself and the other person your body reacted like it was being separated from something it needed to function.

He sighed. “You’ve probably been weakening little by little this whole time. When you meet your mate, your soul reaches out to its other half. That’s the pull. You can feel each other because your soul recognizes its other half. When you join with your mate in that most intimate way, it starts the soul-bonding process. It’s why people mark each other while having sex, usually the first time after finding each other. Your soul is reaching out, kind of like an open wound. Completing the matebond—marking each other and joining souls—is how it will heal. You need to mark each other quickly, or you’ll continue to weaken. Your wolf will continue to fade until he’s gone for good.”

“What happens if I mark her?” Thalia's eyes fill with sorrow. “It will kill her.” The world tilts sideways. I stumble back, catching myself against the wall. “No. That's not… that can't be.” “A true mate mark binds two souls. It's sacred, permanent, designed by the Moon Goddess herself for fated pairs.” Her voice is heavy with regret. “But when a wolf marks someone who isn't their true mate, someone whose soul isn't designed to bond with theirs, it creates corruption. The mark becomes poison instead of protection.”

But someone had drawn something small and strange in the corner, a circle with three jagged lines cutting through it. It looked like a rune. I snapped a quick picture with my phone and stepped back before anyone noticed. That night, I compared it to the symbols I’d found online. It matched a forbidden marking used in some old rituals, something about “binding” and “debt of soul.” I didn’t fully understand, but the warning beneath it was clear enough: Do not mark what you cannot control. A chill ran down my spine. Was that what had happened to her? Has someone marked her?

The classification goes like this: 1. Soul warriors. When the mark appeared on their bodies, they became soul warriors. Soul warriors are warriors born to fight and protect their pack and alpha. There are three divisions of soul warriors. The first had their marking located on their left shoulders, gifted with silver claws and bite. They were called Silver Souls. Similar to how silver affects most supernaturals, their claws and bites were deadly. They were strong, really.