Scar From Wuthering Waves Novels & Stories

Liora folded her arms, beaming like she already won the war. “You see, Scar-rat,” she sneered, “some people are born superior. Some people are born trash.” Mira softly asked Scarlet with watery eyes, “Why, Scarlet? You were rushing that you didn’t even have the time to write your name?” Her voice trembled like she already knew the answer would shatter her. Scarlet only laughed, a dark, humorless sound that didn’t match the panic brewing behind her eyes. “Of course I wrote my fucking name, Mira. I’m not that careless.” Her jaw clenched, her wolf snarling beneath her skin, irritated, pacing.

I guess that’s why I have my scar, a reminder of the fact that I’ll never be as strong as I need to be. As strong as I want to be. Maybe I deserve the scar…. I-i know I deserve my scar it’s all my fault. I… I need to search the body. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, collected the supplies and got to my feet, stumbling backwards as my backpack settled on my shoulders.

I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady, despite the fear making my knees weak. Scar-face chuckled, a harsh, humorless sound. “What do we want? Oh, little wolf. We want a lot of things. And you, sweetheart, are the key to getting them.” He took a step closer, his eyes glinting. The rifle felt like a living thing in his hands. I instinctively took a step back, bumping into the cold concrete wall. “Don’t worry,” he continued, a mocking smile twisting his scarred lip. “We’re not going to hurt you. Not yet, anyway. We just want to have a little chat with your boyfriends.”

he says. Dash looks back and seems like he notices something. I look back again, but I still don’t see anything out of the ordinary. I continue to stare, and that’s when I suddenly notice five men dressed in dark colors. Two of them are bigger than your normal human, so I know for sure they must be werewolves, and they all have scars. “Who…who are they?” I ask, but I’m met with no response. The silence stretches until I look back at them.

Devin came to Scott. He had been crying for so long that his tears had run dry, leaving his eyes red and swollen. As he stumbled toward the door, a sudden blast of cold wind made him shudder. I followed him back to Scott's house next door and saw Scott sitting numbly on the couch, as if he had been drained of life. When he saw Devin approach, he stared for a long time before saying in a cold voice, "It's time we settle some scores."

Scar continued walking, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. He couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. He had hoped that by showing Lena how much he cared and by being there for her, she would eventually reciprocate his feelings. But it seemed like she was only interested in being friends and helping Hermes. As they moved deeper into the forest, Scar could sense a tension between them. Lena's sarcastic response didn't go unnoticed, and he wondered if he had said something wrong. He turned slightly to look at her, trying to read her expression.

“That Scar Icegard is your mate. The same one that was stolen from his family years ago. The same one that was stolen from you years ago.” Tears flood my vision, distorting everything. I sway again, the paper slipping from my fingers and fluttering to the floor. My hands fly to my head, gripping tightly, like I can hold the world together if I just press hard enough. How is this possible? How is he here? How did this all happen? Scar, a werewolf? A vampire? How? “Scar is a werewolf?” I ask, confusion choking the words as a sob claws its way up my throat.

He'd be no match for it. He shrunk back in fright as the wolf approached him, it's blue eyes glowing at him. "No...No....!" It pounced on him and left a deep scratch on his face. The moment the wolf left him, he took to his heels, panting heavily. Scarlett was almost out of breath. Behind blurry vision, she watched as the strange wolf attacked and sent Rolf away. It turned to her when it was done and let out a loud howl - one that echoed into the depth of the night.

Wearing a see-through white dress that seemed meant for indoors only, she carried a thicker wave of the scent that was heavily rested in the room. “It's okay sweetie,” Scarlett hushed, “don't get worked up. It's me, Scarlett.” she stooped to ruffle Winter's mane on approach making her aware of the fact that she was in wolf form at the moment. She hadn't noticed the shift taking place on her way down the stairs.

Scarlet says, her eyes narrowing as she takes a much closer look at the chubby middle-aged wolf who is currently curled up into a tight, shivering ball on the frozen ground. "Does your memory folder still carry a file on my face, Mrs. Scarlet?" the bruised middle-aged wolf groans, lifting his battered head out of the slush. He uses a bloody hand to brush his messy hair off his forehead, staring straight up at her apron with clear, bloodshot eyes.