Uncle Mark Long Way Down Novels & Stories

Mark. I knew he was there, of course. He had a way of moving that felt like the ground itself was shaking beneath him. Mark, my uncle. A silent wall of muscle and scar tissue, towering over me like a mountain. His tail and ear flickered curiously as he crawled out the window, barely fitting through. He didn’t say anything, just plopped down on the roof beside me with the same ease he had moving anything else. “Why are you out here?” I asked, not expecting him to answer.

And I was too polite to turn him down. Two chairs away. That's how close to Gideon I was. If we both stretched out an arm, we could hold each other. I passed Doctor Carver a smile and slid into the chair, accidentally glancing in Gideon's direction as I did so. His eyes were slightly narrowed on me but his expression was unreadable. The room began to grow a little too hot. "We went through all the resources you provided and found out that the mark was linked to wolves who once occupied the Great Plains of Talamar," Doctor Carver began and went on to narrate what he had told me the previous night.

"Mom, Dad said he's taking me reindeer hunting. I don't want to go back." "But I miss you. Don't you miss me?" "No!" he answered without hesitation. I coaxed him, saying, "Have fun, then. I'll wait for you at home." "I'm not going back tonight. Daddy said he'll take me to the grasslands tonight. We're going to watch the stars together." I hung up the phone in silence. Finally, I sighed, picked up my suitcase, and left. Very well. This pack had nothing holding me back. To outsiders, I was Alpha James' mate and the Luna. Although we had a grand ceremony, we were not truly mates because James had never marked me.

Mara The packhouse looked normal from the outside in the way a trap can look like a home if you don’t know what you’re seeing. Wide porch. Warm lights. Trucks. Woods pressed in on every side like the whole place had been built to vanish. Gage had agreed to a “brief return” for one reason: I wouldn’t stop asking what the crescent-and-slash meant, and I’d started asking loud. Fifteen minutes, he’d said. Escort. No wandering.

Mark played center field. Melissa listened and then gave him an idea. "Go home and get the whole family. Take them with you to the gas station. Let Mike fill your truck and you pump gas into his. Let the whole family watch as he loses. It ought to quiet him down for a while." Mark looked gleeful. In Sheboygan I pulled into a truck stop and we unloaded Mark's truck. He gave us two hundred and asked for my cell phone number. I asked why. "Someday I may want to see which truck is the best after a few thousand miles."

“Nuel, I don't need to tell you what to do. Get me answers from the rest of the faction. I need to know who's trying to get to me.” “What would you have me do, my lord,” Marble asked, licking the rim of her glass in a seductive slow motion. “Try to get some rest. Nobody likes an over-enthusiastic lady.” I responded, flickering my wrist dismissing them all. The pattern surged even hotter pulling me to her. Brilliant girl! I snarled. She had found a way to use the mark just like I did. “Don’t worry little hunter, Daddy is coming.”

Neither would go over well. “Miss Sophia,” a man in a charcoal suit stepped into my path as I reached the doors. “Mr. Hartwell’s office is ready for you.” Of course. The will was the real reason I showed up in this funeral dress. Closure didn’t matter. Money did. I didn’t have enough left to pretend otherwise. I followed him into a sleek black car waiting at the curb, and twenty minutes later, I was sitting in a leather chair opposite my father's lawyer. A gray-haired, wrinkled bastard who looked like he belonged in a mafia movie.

"Uncle Matt, yes, I will marry you." I lay on the hospital bed, phone pressed to my ear, my other hand limp at my side as my vacant eyes lingered on the bloodstained bandages around my wrist. How many times had I tried to end my life? I could no longer remember. All I knew was that whenever the waves of despair came crashing down, I felt no desire to keep on living. On the other end of the line, Matt Harlem corrected me, "Audrey, I am John's uncle, not yours. You should call me 'Matt.' Or, 'honey'."

"Uncle, it’s Marco—he’s been poisoned. Doctor Cameron says she needs your blood. Please, hurry.’ A low growl vibrated through the link. ‘Wolfsbane. I’m on my way.’ Each minute felt like a lifetime. Doctor Cameron worked with sharp, practiced movements, but even she wore a grim expression that made my stomach twist. Marco wasn’t out of the woods yet. We just needed Uncle to get here—fast. The doors burst open and he rushed in, breath ragged, eyes immediately locking onto Marco. Without a word, he rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm. “Take what you need.”

He had finally arrived. A chilling intensity filled his eyes as he looked at Caroline, who was crouched on the floor. He directed a deadly glare at Mark. "Well, Mark, impressive, aren't you? How dare you kidnap my woman?" Mark quickly stood up, seeking refuge behind his secretaries, visibly trembling. "Uncle... Uncle Evan!" Evan approached him with a few swift steps, narrowing his eyes as he questioned, "So, you finally acknowledge that I'm your uncle, huh?"