The Birthmark By Nathaniel Hawthorne Novels & Stories

Not my dad. Nathan dropped his fork. He looked at me, his eyes cold and he looked so fed up. "You know... when you were stabbed in the chest with a syringe full of narcotics as an infant, I expected you to die. But here you are." I froze. "What?" He pointed casually at my chest, near my rib. "That red birthmark. That wasn't a gift from God, Isabella. That was where your mother stabbed you after she gave birth to you in a London alleyway."

“It’s just a birthmark.” “That’s where you’re wrong. It’s not just a birthmark. It’s the mark all wolves carry when they’re born. This means one of your parents is a wolf,” he announces and sweeps his thumb across the skin. I clench my teeth, trying not to groan. For the first time, the mark doesn’t burn. If anything, his touch alleviates the sting, making the damn thing hum. A shiver runs through me, electric tingles starting where he touches and sweeping down my body.

With her. About how his shirt smelled like him. Like soap and wood and something safe. And about the mark. She’d seen it earlier. When he’d turned to get a mug from the cabinet, his shirt lifted. Right at the back, just under his shoulder blade. Half a star. Dark. Perfect. Her breath had caught. She had the other half. Right between her shoulder blades. Since she was born. Her mother said it was a birthmark,A link between her and her mate.But since she wasn't a royalty,she can't have a mate_Just a mark, useless without a mate. Nothing special.

So why does it still feel like it should? The water continued to run, the steady rhythm soothing and relentless. As the foam slid down her spine, it traced the soft dip at her lower back before disappearing into the curve of her hips. There, near the small of her back, the water caught on something else— a vivid birthmark, shaped like a drop of crimson paint. It glowed faintly against her wet skin, striking in its colour—red as a fresh wound, beautiful and jarring all at once. Her gaze lingered on it. The sight always unsettled her. That mark, that uninvited flaw, had followed her since birth, like fate’s signature scrawled upon her body.

She lifted her chin, forcing herself to stand straighter, even though her heart felt hollow. Her hair hung wild and tangled from the collapse, her lips pale, her eyes rimmed red from unshed tears. But it wasn’t her face she focused on, it was the faint glow that still lingered on her shoulder where the birthmark burned against her skin.She had hid it all her life but as she gets older it becomes more visible. A crescent, etched as though the Moon herself had kissed her before birth. She traced the mark with trembling fingers, her heart pounding. Why me? Why this?

The sharp thorns cut into his back, and blood trickled down. An irregular birthmark appeared! From a distance, it looked like the outline of a wolf. Seeing this scene from the hill, Lauren trembled, her eyes wide in disbelief. "This... this is..." She stared nervously at the birthmark on his back. "A birthmark? This... this birthmark..." She would never forget the birthmark on her son's back when she gave birth to him. At that time, the child was small, and the birthmark covered most of his back. Now, the birthmark on his back was exactly the same!

My birthmark suddenly returns back with the same itchy burning sensation which I had before but this time the sensation increases ten times and I almost yelp in pain. "What is it?" Byrone questioned concerned as he steps towards me and holds my wrist. "It's burning here." I showed him my birth sign as I slip off my sleeves. The whole birthmark is actually burning. The circle around the birthmark is currently black as a burn mark and the inside of the circle is glowing in an orange reddish color. Byrone looks at my birth mark in awe. "What is this? I have never seen anything like this before..." he whispered softly his eyes glued to my skin as he slowly traces the pattern of my birthmark and

Lizzy was calm, listening to our conversation. “Can you guys sit back, and take some drinks from me?” He let out. “We are fine and satisfied, we don't need more,” I answered. “As you can see, we are preparing to leave.” I poured. He kept silent with a smiling face. “There is a birthmark I saw on her neck, I mean this little girl, that is why I came.” He let out, staring directly at Martha. “Birthmark!” I asked “Yes, birthmark. He responded. Stretching his hand towards Martha. I quickly dragged Martha behind.

Moments like these made me feel old when I desperately crawled into my memory, and then something triggered my brain because in an instant, Ralph’s face flashed before my eyes, and I froze. Ralph has this exact birthmark on his left arm, amidst a canvas of scars he acquired as a result of his glorious career as the right-hand man of a mafia kingpin. The birthmark always stood out, a little prominent on his sun-kissed skin, and I knew deep in my bones that the information I had was earth-shattering.

Her calm eyes drew me in like the day she pleaded for mercy, desperate to live, right before I announced her as my mate in front of everyone present. My wolf threatened to take over, hold, kiss, claim her, but no, I wouldn’t allow him to take charge of this one. I was still holding my wolf back when her voice cut through. “What’s that scar?” she asked, pointing to my chest. “Oh, this.” I let out a shallow breath. “It’s a birthmark.” My mother told me it was a special birthmark that came in the form of a scar. “Okay,” she kept looking, her fingers hovering over it. “It looks like a scar though. Can I touch it?”