Ryan Clark Scar Novels & Stories

“I just need to know he doesn’t think it’s garbage.” Maya placed her hands on her hips, her expression shifting to one of fierce loyalty. “Scarlett, listen to me. You are the best writer in this department. It’s not even a contest. Clark might be intimidating, hell! He's practically carved from ice and enigma, but he’s not blind. He’ll understand.” The praise was a warm blanket, but it couldn’t quite smother the cold knot of anxiety in Scarlett’s stomach. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak again. Her gaze drifted back to the front of the hall. Dr. Clark was alone now.

“You’re disgusting.” Ryan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Scarlet, you need to calm down. This behavior isn’t helping anything.” My lips curled into a small, victorious smile. Scarlet had no way out. And soon, she’d have nothing left.

Scar asked in a cold tone. “Oh you look horrible ,you look like you've been hit by a truck,are you fine” Cindy asked with mock concern. “I'm alive cut the chase,what brought you here” Scar asked. “Seriously I just came to check on my bestfriend who was absent from work” She said in exaggerated care,as her smile widened,as she blinked her eyes. “Go straight to the point” Scar said sternly, obviously annoyed at the whole act. “Oh,I came to give you this”

Give me all the information you have about Scarlett *grins* Rylan folds his fist in anger wishing you appear in front and punch the hell out of him ....

Rancel's presence only added to her suspicion. Cinhard shifted uncomfortably, sensing the tension between his sister and his new acquaintance. "Clara, there's no need to be so suspicious," he interjected. "Rancel has been nothing but helpful to me." Clara, however, wasn't ready to let the matter drop. "Helpful, you say? I seem to recall a time when someone tried to kill me, and the description of that someone oddly matches her appearance." She stared directly at Rancel, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "But I'm sure that's just a coincidence, right?"

“My bus is coming soon so you’ll have to make it quick.” Ryan’s lip wobbled as he spoke. “I was jealous of Clara because Mom was always going on about how proud she was of her. I wanted her to feel proud of me instead. I sneaked into Clara’s bedroom and ripped up everything and I used her craft knife to tear up the things I couldn’t rip. Then she came home and I didn’t get in any trouble for it. I was happy about that and then the house was full of people a while later. Mom told me that Clara had died.”

At least then, it wouldn’t have ended like this. Suddenly, a shrill scream pierced through Cyrus and Richard's argument, breaking Clark's train of thought. "No, I don't want to go to the operating room! Let me go! You're all murderers!" A woman's frantic voice filled the room, and Clark's gaze turned icy. He recognized the voice—it was Rebecca, the woman who had caused Nyla's death. Hate flashed in Clark's eyes as he leaned on his crutch and headed outside. Cyrus was startled by Clark's sudden movement and quickly rushed to support him. "Clark, what are you doing? The doctor said you need to stay in bed for a month!"

“Why am I here? Have you—have you found something?” Clark said nothing at first. He simply studied me. Then, he leaned forward. “We spoke to Ryan,” he said. I tensed, just enough for him to notice. “Oh?” Clark tilted his head. “You seem nervous.” I shook my head quickly. “No, no, I— This is just all so overwhelming. I can’t believe Ryan could do something of that sort, i..., i...,I loved him.” My voice cracked on the last word, my lower lip trembling.

Clark's breath hitched. "That scar—" his voice was barely a whisper. "This scar. You've touched it countless times, haven't you?" I refastened my tunic and turned back to face him. "Every time we were in bed. Every time you said you loved me. Every time you held me." "Myrna—" "I was the one who saved you, Clark," my voice was terrifyingly calm. "I saved you with this scar that will never heal. And you gave the credit for my sacrifice to someone else."

I replied. "Is it true that you can protect others from vampire gifts?" Henry Clarkson, emperor of Clarkson Empire asked her. "Yes, sir. I only found out about that ability less than a week ago. To be more exact, I found out about that during the annual ball of Harlow," Rayne answered. "We would like to see that then," Jonathan commented. "Rayne, do you mind holding my hand?" I asked her and she gently grabbed it, "Mr. Davidson, I believe that you have the power of visual manipulation. Try to manipulate my vision while I'm holding her hand," I instructed him and he nodded.