Scarlet Books Novels & Stories

Scarlett confidently replied, "Nope, they're fascinating. You'll know if you read them." "I'm not interested." Wayne scoffed. Scarlett pouted, "You just don't appreciate them " "There are many books here, rare editions that I treasure. You're the one who doesn't appreciate them." Wayne was not willing to back down. Neither was Scarlett She'd rather sleep than read those books. She curled up on the sofa and closed her eyes. Wayne, "..." Hadn't she already slept? How could she sleep again? Wayne asked, "Are you a pig?"

A woman must live here, but where is she? I move to the wardrobe. It’s full of luxury-brand clothes, all in small sizes but none for children. The absence of dresses and skirts makes me wonder if the woman who lives here is ashamed of her legs. A sudden sense of urgency fills me, and I decide to leave before I’m caught. But then I notice a thick, pink book. It’s a diary. The name on the front cover shocks me: "Scarlet."

Her drama with them never seemed to end. As Scarlet scanned the room, she noticed something, on the far end. It was a book she had never seen before, sitting on the end table, beside the other reading chair. It had unusual look to it, and it dew her in. It looked like one of her mom’s rare books, but it was smaller. Almost like…a journal.

‘Master Mikhail’ could go to the unending inferno of hell for all I cared, but I could not tell her that. For the next twenty minutes, she worked some magic on my back, and I wondered if she would succeed in covering the hideous scars. The scars that were an ever present reminder of the hell I had been going through while my mother withered away without me. Tears stung my eyes. I knew none of this was my fault, I knew it wasn't my fault that she had died. I just couldn't help the guilt I felt. Maybe if I had fought harder. If I had tried harder to escape, if I hadn't slipped up. If I hadn't gone on that night shift.

Even when I knew there was little I could do to change the situation. Scarlet wasn’t Arabelle. Once reborn, she took on a new life and identity, her memories erased completely. I was aware of how much effort I needed to get her to fall for me, and I was mistaken that my genuineness would touch her deep inside. Yet, I was so wrong.

Lucian’s POV Scarlett had torn us apart in ways I couldn’t have imagined. She had done the unthinkable—she poisoned the water supply of Redcape, using the same toxic mix she had been accused of using on us. Half the pack lay dead because of her, and all our efforts to clear her name were suddenly, tragically, for nothing. As I looked at her, bound and helpless before us, I felt a twisting in my chest—a mix of anger and sorrow so deep I could hardly breathe. How could she have done something so reckless, so cruel?

She stood up from his embrace and straightened herself. "Omar? Yes I..." She paused to clear her throat then she noticed that his silver white outfit had been stained red, placing a palm on his chest, she felt his accelerated heart beat and his rasped breathing and swiftly withdrew her hand. She shivered when realization dawned on her and she took a step back. "Omar...?" She searched his eyes and pointed to his clothes. "What is that? Is that... blood on you?" "Blood?!" Saadiya and Parvina chorused and rushed forward, stopping just behind Mariam and their eyes widened when they saw the huge stain.

A necklace caught my attention in the middle of the glass window. "Good morning, sir. How may I help you?" the saleslady asked. "I want to see that one," I said and pointed to the necklace. She immediately took it. The necklace is stunning. It sparkles, it's a small crystal drop necklace. It suits Scarlet perfectly. This necklace is also the color of her name. "It's a Scarlet red minimalist crystal necklace." I turned around at what the saleslady said. "That necklace symbolizes courage, passion, strength, joy, and heat." she continued. I smiled, just like my honey. It really suits her.

“Inside. You won’t believe what she’s doing.” My blood boiled. Scarlet—entertaining other men. I stormed down the hall, kicking the door open. The scene that greeted me stopped me cold. Scarlet stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by male werewolves, her shirt half-off, her eyes vacant. But it wasn’t a terrified look—it was like she’d just… given up. She wasn’t screaming, wasn’t fighting—just letting them undress her. Is this what she wants? Is this the real Scarlet?

'Scar? 'I NEED YOU ASAP!' 'SOS' 'CODE RED' 'Scarlet?' 'Scaaaaaaaaaarrrrlleeeeetttt' 'Bitch do you not see this?' 'You blind?' 'SCARLET! I am in danger there are people out here trying to kill me aaaaaaaahhh so exciting! Isn't it?' 'I need you with me' 'Come on, we'll fight them together 'Scarlet?' 'SCARLET' 'you bitch, are gonna come when I'm dead!!!!!'