Novel & Cerita Scarred Emily Mcintire

ELEANOR SINCLAIR Five years have passed since that time. The days have counted into years that etched themselves into my bones, reshaping me from who I was into something colder, sharper, and far more dangerous than the woman who had stood trembling on that desolate sidewalk, watching helplessly as my world and everything I had known in it came crashing down under Vincent Moreau's cruel smirk. The memory of that night and everything that happened-the bite of the cold, and the suffocating haze of chloroform, were a stamp upon the lies that had torn me from Damian and the life we had managed to build. That memory still clings to me like damp rot.

He held his phone and watched the video all night long. The next morning, when he looked in the mirror, he saw a man who looked like a vagrant—unshaven, haggard, and lifeless. He stared at his own reflection and muttered bitterly, "You deserve this." … On the day of my wedding, all my college classmates showed up, including Tristan. At first, I was worried he would cause trouble again. I didn't want to be disturbed by him anymore. Even with my good temper, I couldn't stand being constantly tangled up in his drama.

"I'll find her. And when I do. I'll beg. Beg on bended knee. Go where she goes. But show Harrison Blackwood is not the devil Maya portrayed him to be. Be the man Leya needs." Alone, finally, in her life, the therapist cocked her head to one side. "That is your promise. Now hold on." And as Harrison left that office that night, his chest aching but his heart seething once more, there was one thing echoing in his ears above the rest: He had scars that would haunt him for a lifetime. And out of those scars had been driven home a promise — a promise that would be the refrain of his years.

Lauren gazed into the mirror as she peeled off her clothes, not wanting to miss a single sight of it. The once white bandages that had been wrapped on her back now had a hue of red. She sighed and even when she knew it would earn her scolding from Malcolm, she slowly peeled the bandage off her back closing her eyes at the gory sight that greeted her. Her eyes teared. She didn’t believe it was this bad. And Bryan had seen it too? It made her sob more. She didn’t want him to end up having trauma because of her. She was used to it after all.

She crumbled down to the floor, dead. Mariam screamed in horror and bent down to scoop Parvina in her arms, the tears flooded down her cheeks as she held Parvina's head close to her chest and she cried in pain. Saadiya fell to the floor on her knees, she looked at Parvina's face in shock and in horror, the tiny hole in the middle of her forehead pooled out blood. Her hands shook when she reached out to hold Parvina's hand. She didn't want to believe what just happened.

He pauses for just a moment to catch his breath—apparently, he’d been running—and says, “We’ve got a problem.” *** *Emily* My head aches, but the pain isn’t half as powerful as the rage I’m feeling. That bitch Barbara put her filthy claws on me and ripped my flesh. If it doesn’t heal quite right, I might even have a scar. Can you imagine? A scar on Emily’s flawless skin is a sin against the Goddess herself. I don’t like that doctor, either. She and her snotty little nurses probably didn’t even disinfect the wound properly before they bandaged it. Luckily, I heal quickly, though, so hopefully, there won’t be a scar.

Emily was taken aback by her sudden actions. With a swift motion, she shook Scarlett off, her disappointment palpable. "Enough! First, go to the hospital and get that injury checked, and then come and apologize!" If Scarlett showed remorse, there might still be a chance to salvage the situation. As she pondered this, Scarlett suddenly exclaimed, "I won't apologize! I will never apologize!" She pointed at Emily, her eyes filled with disappointment and anger. "Now even you won't stand by me. As soon as I'm of no use, you discard me?"

I didn't want to lose her again—not now that I had finally found her. My worried gaze moved over her beautiful curved body, noticing the silver marks glittering under the sweat. I stretched out my hand, tracing the scar on her stomach with my fingertips. Emily's breathing suddenly slowed, and her heartbeat relaxed. My fingertips were leaving a cold trail wherever I touched. Was I soothing her pain? Was my touch helping her? Another scar caught my eye, yet it was smaller than the first. What happened to her while she was away? Who did this to her? Anger started to boil inside me, knowing that someone had tried to hurt what belonged to me.

The symbol on her wrist confirmed it. Maids brought in from other packs were marked for identification. Emily was the only exception. I had personally refused to have her marked. I turned to Theodore. “The moment we return to the castle, I want the name of the pack she came from.” “At once, My King.” A brief silence settled. My thoughts darkened as I stared down at Scarlett’s body again. This new discovery changed everything. Perhaps Sharina had been telling the truth…that Scarlett had lured Emily into the forbidden territory of her own accord.

Her heart started to hammer with a bit more vigor in her chest when she spotted the scar, it was a long prominent cut on his neck, hard not to notice. She smiled...after all, this was the first scarred alpha to take the bait. "The devil was once an angel." She took the sip, and as the bitter liquid slid down her throat, she almost coughed up her pride. It was a mystery how she held it back. The man chuckled, taking a seat beside her. "I guess you're right." He turned to the bartender. "Another whiskey." Linessa took another sip of hers. "So," he turned back to her. "I heard your little outburst about your taste in men. Men with scars on their neck, huh?"