Scar Novels & Stories

A few seconds later, a petite woman with jet black hair and huge silver colored eyes answered. “What can I do for you?” She asked brightly. “I’m Rex Callis, Alpha of the Sakura Pack. I’m just here to extend my packs greetings, maybe meet with Tristan, and give him this.” He pulled the small box from his pocket, displaying the offering Makai had given him.

"Not for long." Trent rolled before the stranger finished pulling the trigger. The blast hit the dirt beside him. Trent kept moving as the gunman kept firing, only his speed and reflexes saving him from all but a light scoring along his side. A rustle in the brush saw his assailant whirling to fire as a pair of huge shapes leapt from the shadows, with Marc and Darren finally making an appearance. They tackled the stranger, who seemed not at all perturbed he had to fight off wolves. Even more fucked up, he almost got the upper hand until Marc got his teeth around the stranger's neck.

This Lycan looked batshit crazy and it scared the hell out of the Tiger. *****

Carl announces walking in. Fuck.

The night stretched long and cold, the air thick with the scent of blood and damp earth. The battle had ended, but the war was far from over. Scar emerged from the shadows, his towering frame moving with deadly grace. His fur, a deep shade of charcoal, gleamed under the moonlight. Scars littered his body, marks of past battles, proof of his dominance. His golden eyes flickered with something unreadable as he stopped in front of the crumpled figure on the ground.

Black says before he takes off. The moonlight filters down through the trees as we dart after her, adrenaline surging in our veins. Each leap carries us closer, but she’s fast—her white and red form blurring ahead, weaving between trunks, her three tails flicking playfully. The forest echoes with the pounding of paws, the rush of wind, and the thrill of the chase. Skadii glances back, her golden and purple eyes glinting mischievously, then pushes herself faster, testing our limits.

Plus one vampire observer. The Battle of the Rookeries is about to begin.

The way a surgeon presses on a bleeding wound on the table. Rex. Flame-scarlet armor. Hair shaved to the skull. An old, ugly scar carved across the back of his head. Passing the VIP tier, his head snaps up and that feral stare rakes over my face, my throat, then buries itself in my nape. His nostrils flare. His muddy yellow eyes narrow. The corner of his mouth hooks into a crude, wolfish angle.

RUN FOR YOUR LIFE, WILLY. Will_the_devil DAMN!

right? @SenaSen