Breath Mints And Battle Scars Epub Novels & Stories

I can get myself out of this, I just have to focus and not pass out again. I am at war with my body as I struggle through the pain. That branch got me good. I press on the wound and have to bite back a howl of pain. I am still bleeding, but some of it is clotting. Suddenly, I catch a scent. It isn’t Frank. It is blood mixed with something sharp that I can’t quite name. Then I hear quiet footsteps that make my skin crawl. I freeze, looking for better cover.

It can’t be. I wanted to believe I was hallucinating—that the old injury to my eyes was finally catching up with me. Mira’s magic, the salves and healing spells she gave me years ago… maybe they’d worn off. Maybe this—this twisted illusion—was just the blindness creeping back. Wasn’t that how it started? Seeing things that weren’t there? But then the scent of blood hit me—thick, coppery, sharp—and the world suddenly rushed back in. The grunts of warriors engaged in battle, the sickening crunch of bone, the stench of death…

If nothing else, Braden has lost his creature comforts. I brace against the tree, shoving off with every ounce of strength left in me, forcing my feet toward the battle. The clash of bodies and the scent of blood hangs heavy in the air. I spot the last of the rogues and the New Moon pack locked in vicious combat with my people. My fingers tighten around the next grenade—my perfume grenade. I pull the pin and hurl it into the fray. When it detonates, the liquid inside transforms into razor-sharp silver shards that rain down like death. Agonized howls split the air as they scramble for cover.

I couldn’t afford to look weak. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out into the clearing, my heart pounding as the guards spotted me. “Halt! Who goes there?” one barked, his voice sharp and commanding. “Tell your Alpha that I’m here,” I shouted back, my voice steady despite the knot tightening in my stomach. “I received his letter with good heart.” The words tasted like poison, but I forced them out, clenching my fists to keep from shaking. The memory of what Jericho had done to our warriors burned behind my eyes, but I swallowed my fury. Not yet.

He raised his hand, instinctively reaching out to pat my head, just like he used to do to calm me down. This time, I recoiled in disgust, stepping back without a second thought. Ryan's hand froze in mid-air. His eyes flickered with confusion as if he were trying to figure something out. Then, he saw it. My eyes were cold, distant—like I was looking at a stranger. For a moment, Ryan's hand trembled, and his expression faltered. He stepped forward, trying to get closer, but I quickly shot back, "Mr. Menzie, aren't you worried about Miranda getting upset?"

JAKE POV. I tore the mask off. “Is this what you really want?!” Ariana froze like a damn statue. The gun slipped from her fingers and hit the ground. Her hands flew to her mouth as her eyes locked on my face—on the scars. “Oh my God…” Her voice cracked. “Jake… what have you done?” Her tears came fast. But mine were already there, hot and bitter. “Is this what you wanna wake up to every morning?” My voice broke. I was burning inside, suffocating in shame. I’d sworn no one would ever see me like this. This wasn’t even how I’d planned to show Liz—not yet. Not now.

" She... She re-opened dad's case? Why? Isn't she the one who told me that I should stop fighting against that invisible enemy of us? Why would she... Do this?" I stood up even if I feel like I would fall in any moment. I accidentally passed by a mirror and saw my scar. The memories that I buried six feet under the ground starts to flash like a flood. The screams in pain, the culprit's laugh, dad's cry in pain, our maids' shouts, and my cries. God, I need to stop this again. If this kept on flashing back, I'll lost myself again. And I don't want that to happen.

I see it like a glowing ember ready to burn me to ruin. There’s a faint scar that runs along one full side of her jawline, partially hidden beneath a damp chunk of hair, an old mark she doesn’t seem to notice or hide, but it’s telling. She’s been through battles, some of them no doubt harder than she would ever let on. And the scent she carries, it’s not just rain. There’s a warmth there, a mix of spice and something uniquely hers that slips into my senses like an unspoken promise, igniting a pull I have never felt before.

he whispered, his voice thick with tension. The sheets beneath me were pure white silk, and I felt sick knowing I was ruining them with my blood. My face felt like it was on fire. A throbbing, white-hot pain pulsed from my cheekbone all the way down to my jaw, making my eyes water. But I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my fists. I had to hold the pain in. I couldn't let it show. I was just a maid, and showing weakness in front of the Alpha felt dangerous, even if he was being kind right now.

" The only sound left in the room was the steady ticking of the machines. I turned away and carefully put the irises into the vase by Mom's bed. He stood up slowly, quietly. "Remember to put ointment on your knee when you get home. It's scraped." The door closed softly behind him. I thought I heard a muffled sob. However, maybe it was just my imagination. Back home, my daughter gently put ointment on my knee. I patted her head, turned on the computer, and started writing a new post. Title: [About Camila and the Road I Took.] She should have known I would not let it go if she exposed me.