The Marked Ones Book Novels & Stories

“Louder this time. The walls listen.” I swallowed. “Our bodies are vessels,” I recited, voice obedient, familiar words scraping my throat. “Our blood is borrowed. Our breaths are offerings. We are the chosen keepers of the Mark, the last gate between this world and the hunger beneath it.” “And the Mark?” she prompted. The skin on my left shoulder prickled as if it heard her. “The Mark is not a curse,” I said. “The Mark is the seal.” Mother Elara’s gaze softened, but not with affection. With reverence. With fear.

Lena's stomach twisted into knots, the thought of it, the bond still connecting her and all of these other poor women to that murderous monster made her feel dirty, what Kate had been through was beyond words, he actually made her fall in love with him before marking and betraying her, she was so young. Kate's hands trembled as she added one last thing to her monologue "He doesn't need us marked to own us, it's not like we can leave, we are his whether we like it or not...But when he touches Ally or Lorna, it burns, the pain, I can't even describe...You will feel it, we all do, when he's with one of us, he betrays the others mark...And we suffer whether we are the one chosen for the night or

“She has seen the truth. Will you?” Eli’s patience snapped. “I don’t need your riddles. I need her.” The leader’s silver eyes gleamed. “Then take her.” A heartbeat of silence. Then The Marked Ones moved. The ruins erupted into chaos. The Marked Ones were fast, their movements fluid and unnatural. They didn’t attack outright not yet but they wove through the shadows, surrounding the pack, testing them, forcing them to react. Mason lunged at one, only for his target to vanish before impact, reappearing behind him with a smirk.

Opening my eyes, I saw a book with its pages quickly turning over and emitting a red glow which slowly entered my body. Suddenly, my body started burning up, the mark was not hurting me, it was scorching me. As the pain became unbearable, a scream tore from my lips, the chanting stopping. As the book fell back to the floor, I collapsed on the ground clutching my chest which felt like it was burning. With the little energy left in me, I picked up the book and stared at the bold words written on the cover. " The mark of the chosen one."

Lucien sealed the doors with blood wards, layers of protection that pulsed like slow heartbeats through the walls. They didn’t speak much while they packed. But their hands brushed more than once. At the threshold. In the dark. And each time, neither pulled away fast enough. --- The Marked Ones came on the fourth night. Three of them. Silent. Pale-eyed. Scarred with runes. Lucien woke first. He felt them before he saw them. Felt them like poison in the walls. He grabbed his sword. Reached for Alya. But she was already awake—eyes glowing faint silver, power humming like a second heartbeat through her skin.

_____ Author's Note: Mark is seriously living in an alternate reality! 😡 While poor Violetta is getting bullied by the junior staff at lunch, he’s getting a luxury massage with four masseuses, thinking he’s some kind of mastermind genius. He thinks he’s teaching her a lesson, but we all know Violetta is way tougher than he thinks! 💅🔥 > **📢 HELP US HIT THE HOMEPAGE TRENDS: If you want to support Violetta and see Mark get absolutely destroyed later in the story, please take 10 seconds to add this book in your library, and leave a quick review below! Your stars keep our daily double-updates alive! 💖👇

Mark gives her a small nod. "Can I….." she murmurs, her hands twitching towards the book. "Go ahead," Mark says with a small gesture. With permission she opened the album, her fingers brushing against the glossy pages. She sees images of herself, laughing with different people she doesn't recognize. Her heart gives a strange pang when she sees the smiling face of a dark-skinned woman. She doesn't know why it feels like her lungs are trying to suffocate her so she quickly turns to another page.

I stood hidden behind the staircase and heard every word. The four of them really did look like a family together. But when they turned and saw me standing there, their smiles froze instantly. Clara recovered first. She smiled warmly and opened her arms as she walked toward me. "Zoey, what a coincidence! I didn't expect to see you here." Before her hands could even touch my clothes, Marcus stepped between us. He frowned slightly and said to Clara, "Don't touch her. She's filthy. She'll stain your dress."

We won’t give her a reason to. Alaric didn’t yield. She may not be our mate. If she isn’t— if we’re not marked back— We’ll still feel it. The pull. And when the real one appears... She is ours. You feel it too. He interrupted me again. You remember the book? This could be something else... I don’t care. Mark her. Now. He pushed forward. Impatient. Certain. I caught her gaze—ready for refusal. “Marking you would help more than you think.”

Why didn’t I… care? I inhaled sharply, my hands curling into fists. “She kept everything from me. Lied to me. She made me believe we were nothing—” I cut myself off, exhaling hard. “But we never were, were we?” Mark didn’t answer. Instead, his fingers twitched, as if debating something. And then, slowly, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, battered book. My breath caught. Abigail’s book. The one she stole from my mother’s things.