Scarlett Stovall Novels & Stories

The woman hesitated for a moment but eventually smiled and accepted Scarlett's hand, shaking it as she replied, "I'm Abegail Garcia... And you?" Scarlett's smile widened even further, but a hint of annoyance tainted her expression as she retorted, "Pleasure to meet you, Abegail. I'm Scarlett Scott Scoville, Storm Scoville’s wife."

I stood there like I was ordered and waited till I was allowed inside. The tension in my body could be felt by anyone around. I looked around to see if I could catch a glimpse of Cade. He assured me that he was going to talk to his mother; it didn't look like he did. He was just like every man—promises and no action to show it. The door opened, and I made to go in. I stopped in my tracks. The lady, before stepping out, looked at me and then scoffed. “Hello ma'am, I couldn't greet you earlier. I'm Scarlett, Cade's fiancee and soon-to-be wife.” I said it innocently, hoping to get better treatment from her. I regretted saying anything immediately.

I saw as I start driving to the pack house. As I pull up and park in front of the pack house, my dick gets hard all over again, as I step out of my car and see Scarlett waiting outside the packhouse, leaning against the railing of the porch. Her long, chocolate brown hair is in loose waves down her back and I can see her bright green eyes from here. Her curves look perfect in a red dress that wraps around her body, showcasing her cleavage as it ties at the waist. Her legs, perfectly toned from all her time training and sparring, look they need to be wrapped around me as she stands in a pair of black stiletto heels. Before she has a chance to move even an inch, I’m out of my car and on the po

Scarlett POV: After completing a long, exhausting day at my part-time job, I finally arrived home, only to be greeted with a forceful push from Gianna, my stepmother. It felt as though she had been eagerly waiting for my return, ready to unleash her anger upon me. My name is Scarlett, and I am the only daughter and child in my family. Oh, and did I mention that I'm a she-wolf? It's an essential part of who I am, though it seems irrelevant in the face of the challenges I endure.

That was my first clue. Beautiful in that polished way that takes real effort to pull off... dark blazer, perfect hair, jewellery that hit exactly the right note between casual and serious. Her smile arrived first, warm and open, right up until I looked closely enough to notice that her eyes were doing something completely different. Calculating. Filing. "Scarlett Voss." She said my name like she'd been expecting me. "I'm Nora. I handle media operations for the Wolves." "Good to meet you," I said.

"Scarlett, you're not alone in this. We can navigate through this together. I want to help you find the truth about Stella, even if it means facing the ugly parts of her past.” “I don’t know, Evie,” she said softly, her eyes filling with tears. “The real killer is out there, and I feel like I’m getting closer to finding them. Can you trust me on this?" Scarlett broke down, the weight of her emotions overwhelming her. She collapsed into my arms, tears streaming down her face. In that moment of vulnerability, she whispered, "I didn't know what to think anymore. And discovering all the things Stella did before her death, I... I wouldn't have blamed you for hating her. Or me."

“I went to investigate the area and picked up the remnants this morning. Whatever’s bleeding through, it’s not native.” She looks at me. “Fae?” “Maybe. Or it could be something even older.” Scarlett doesn’t flinch. Of course she doesn’t. She’s Arlo and Hilda’s daughter. She eats danger for breakfast. “Does Erik have any theories?” I ask. “I haven’t told him yet. He’s been a little distracted.” “With?” She just sips her drink. “That’s a story for another day.” I raise a brow but don’t push. Instead, I slide a book toward her. She flips it open and blinks.

I was entertainment. I moved between the tables, gathering plates with trembling hands while conversations danced around me. Their whispers followed like hungry wolves. “Look at those arms. Like tree trunks.” “Margaret said she found food hidden in her room again.” “Disgusting. No wonder she can’t shift—what wolf would want that body?” My cheeks burned, but I kept loading the tray. Glass and plate clinked against the tray, and the sound produced covered most of their comments. “Careful with those,” Marcus called from across the room where he was busy entertaining a group of unmated females. “We all remember what happened to Mother’s antique vase.”

Nervous, she wrapped her arms around me and whispered, “I know what you're thinking, but please do not accuse me of something I didn't do. I was only trying to use the software since it was new. Besides, nothing changed the fact that Scarlett truly cheated on you. There is footage of her intimacy with Alaric. Plus, her obsession with Dylan still lingers and now you're questioning me over a software I used as a practice?” “Scarlet has been nothing but a whore. She couldn't even stay long with Alaric because of his failing business. Besides, do you know where she has been these last five years?” She whispered, leaning towards me. “She's been with Alaric. They've been living like couples in New

he asks, his voice steady and respectful. I take a moment to gather my thoughts before explaining the situation. "Scarlett had a dream that she was attacked by an unknown assailant," I begin, my voice laced with concern. "She mentioned that the perpetrator had a tattoo on their wrist. I need to know if you've encountered anyone who bears such a mark."