Novel & Cerita Fangs For The Memories

But she couldn’t explain it away, not when she looked at his mouth from which two teeth were protruding now. No, not teeth. Fangs! Pointy, sharp fangs like those of an animal. Like a Sabertooth tiger. She couldn’t think it, no, because to think it made it real. It couldn’t be real. It didn’t exist. He didn’t exist, not like that.

Her dark red eyes stared lifelessly at the moon, the reflection making them look lighter, like when she was young and innocent. I closed her eyes as my world went black.

A smirk appeared on his face and he said “You smell angry.” My pulse jumped and I asked with a confused voice “What?” His nose brushed slowly near my neck and I froze completely. He murmured “You always smell angry around me.” Heat rushed violently into my face but I ignored it and shoved him hard. I roared “Stop doing weird shit!” Aiden laughed quietly then his expression suddenly changed. His eyes moved toward my throat. There was a mark. His fingers brushed the mark lightly and my breath caught. He asked softly “What is this?”

Fred scolded and even though they were not in the room, Somehow I knew they could hear the telling off. “They are not Suttle, and they are not always gentle, but you have no need to fear them” Fred carried on as I kept my eye on the door. so basically, what he was telling me is that my memory of fur, claws and golden eyes where not just illusions. but it wasn’t the boy’s hands I had seen the fur on, it wasn’t their fingernails that so painfully turned into claws. It was mine; my memory was of me as a wolf and not them.

The air was thick with anticipation, as if the walls themselves held countless untold stories. I approached the reception desk, where a young woman with piercing blue eyes and an enigmatic smile greeted me. Her name tag read "Lena." "Welcome to Memoria," she said, her voice soft yet confident. "How may I assist you today?" "I... I've heard that you can erase memories," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Is it true?" Lena nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, it's true. Memoria specializes in memory alteration. We help individuals who seek to escape the pain of their past, to start anew."

Something in me howled with need, but my fear— and soul shattering —was stronger. I thrashed beneath him, panic swelling in my chest as I screamed, “Let me go! Please, just let me go!” However, he remained immobile. His hold grew stronger, and I observed the fierce struggle in his gaze—his inner Lycan striving for dominance, craving to possess me. I kicked and clawed at him frantically, trying to break free. My chest pounded with fear as I was reminded of the terrifying memories of feeling trapped and powerless.

Frank grabbed his pants to pull his phone out of his pocket. “One last thing I should mention about the mating mark,” said Coralis, and Frank stopped what he was doing to look at her, “unlike Stephanie… you’ll probably be seeing disturbing memories that have been buried deep down. I don’t know what you will see… but if we’re talking core memories… you won’t be seeing happy ones, and it would probably upset you or give you nightmares.” “Like it gives you nightmares sometimes?” he said, still holding his pants. She nodded and stood up to grab her cloak in the middle of the floor.

"Remember, April! Remember what I told you." "Remember what?" I demanded, frustration boiling over. "You're taunting me with cryptic messages and vague warnings. What the hell am I supposed to remember?" The woman's touch on my face calmed the storm within me. Her fingers traced my cheekbone, and a floodgate of memories burst open. Fragments of images, long forgotten, surfaced. I recalled playing amidst a group of people with snow-white hair, their laughter and smiles etched in my mind. Vivid scenes of ancient forests, whispering trees, and moonlit rituals flooded my consciousness.

Only if slightly. Her body paused, a confusion coming over her… but it still wasn’t enough. I needed more… I needed to push past the barrier in my head… to grab a hold of the deepest corners of my mind. …And I saw flashes of memories as I did so. Memories that made no sense. Of blood… of wolves… of a night filled with stars above. And running. So much running. “Give me the pen,” I huffed, unable to stop the tears from flowing now. “Give it to me, Myra.”

Yance adds, bumping his shoulder against mine. “You both will be annoying,” I say with a tiny smug grin. We burst into giggles like idiots. That memory is a knife. A warm-handled, razor-sharp knife. Because now I know how it ends. With blood. With death. With ashes. But the memory doesn’t let me go. A new scene forces itself into existence. I’m older-maybe ten. I lean against Lance’s shoulder and mumble with all the confidence of a child who believes in fairy tales: