Warrior Mark Novels & Stories

The warrior asked, his gaze flickering over to me for a split second. “Yes.” Eric growled again. Okay, was the growling completely necessary? I think by now they got the picture, even if they didn’t know the truth. The other warrior that was with them, but keeping quiet looked over at me. Unlike the other warrior, his gaze lingered. “I don’t sense your mark on her.” The warrior that was looking at me spoke. “She doesn’t have her wolf, it is complicated, but that is why she hasn’t been marked yet.” Eric replied, this time he spoke normally, instead of growling his words.

The young warrior held her in his arms, looking at everyone, while in a voice that was clearly his wolf's voice, shouted: - Mine. Drake, orders his men to stand back, who shift and, without stopping to stare at the small group, retreat on their alpha's orders. Mark walks over to the young warrior and puts a hand on his shoulder. The warrior, not knowing it was Mark, grunts, but when he sees his Alpha's eyes, he groans, never letting go of his mate. - Congratulations willy on finding your mate. Now let go, the girl needs to breathe. He lets her go, and when the girl walks away, he grabs her by the hand and shouts:

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.

Allistar POV Today is my 18th birthday and i cannot explain how excited I am to find my mate, i've been waiting for her since I first found about about mates, which was when I was 10 years old. So, yea I have been waiting for a long time and all I can hope for is that she is kind and maybe just maybe a good fighter. The last one is mainly becasue I am the Top Warrior of my pack, the Opal river pack, and it would be a dream come true to train with my mate. I became Top Warrior of my pack a few weeks after my 16th birthday. I had always been an amazing warrior since i started training when i was 12 years old per the request of my father Alexander to ensure I make myself useful to the pack. Nor

“Unless you want me to drag you out.” My heart hammered, the witch’s mark on my wrist prickling with heat. I straightened slowly, stepping into the open. The warrior stood a few paces away—tall, broad-shouldered, with the pack insignia stitched into his cloak. I recognized him now. Jarek. One of Damien’s favored blades. Not openly loyal, not openly treacherous. The worst kind. His gaze slid over me, sharp and assessing, before settling on my face. “Well,” he drawled. “Looks like the future of Shadowfang has sharp ears.”

You can only see them on their arms if their coat is off and so far I haven’t seen anyone wearing their coat. On the chest of their shirt and coat is an insignia and it shows how far they are within the ranks. Those that have just started out have no marking on their chest, those that made Warrior have a combination of a star and a wing in a circle on their chest. There are five ranks within the Warriors, if you are a second-ranked Warrior there is a star above the circle and with each rank that you go up, you gain another star. The maximum is four stars above the circle and if you manage to make Squad Captain, it will be underneath the circle.

Jarek’s voice crackled through Kael’s comms device, sharp with adrenaline: “Movement on the western pass. They’re coming.” Kael’s heart thundered in his chest. “Hold your positions. Wait for my mark.” From the western edge of the ridge, dark shapes emerged through the morning haze. The Crimson Fang’s warband appeared like shadows cast in steel and blood. Their leader, a towering Alpha with jagged scars crisscrossing his face, rode at the front atop a massive wolf, his eyes blazing with cruelty. His pack’s banners—a tattered red fang against black—fluttered menacingly in the wind.

In the centre was a crescent moon with two swords going through it and the swords were placed in a way that made an X. To regular people, it looked like a weird burn scar or tattoo. But among wolves, it was a warrior’s mark. The training instructor of the pack decided whether or not someone had earned a mark based on their competing with warriors from four main packs. When a wolf earns it, it was etched into their side with a silver needle so it’d show when they shifted as fur wouldn’t grow where the needle left a mark. In the rare case of the warrior not being a wolf, a tattoo machine would be used. Each part of the mark represented where someone was acknowledged as a warrior. The top teeth