Scarred Emily Mcintire Novels & Stories

“Are you fucking blind to see the bruises and bandages on my face or has Damian fucked your brains out, you’ve suddenly become dumb?” Her eyes go wide as saucers and she freezes on the spot unable to say anything. “You’re pathetic Scarlett, of all the men you could have used for a rebound, it had to be my uncle? Do you have no shame?” “I have nothing to be ashamed about,” her tone hardens as the initial shock fades away. “Damian is a far better man than you and if that is why you did this, then you’re nothing but a spineless weakling, picking on an innocent woman.”

I added. "Yes," She said with no emotion to her tone. "I am sorry about that, Scar, but it had to be done," I said. "It had to be done! Are you serious?" Scarlett was getting angry now. "Look, I've apologised; let's just move on, ok!" I said with a stern tone to my voice. OH, I do like it when Scarlett gets all angry. It makes her so sexy. She just sat there looking at me and didn't say a word.

Aiden looks like he might be sick, while Jasper and Marcus both look pissed. I turn back to Zahra just as she stands up straight, and I finally see what they’re staring at. Her back is covered in angry red and white scars, crisscrossing into a horrible lattice over her skin. My stomach churns at the sight. I knew her father had hurt her, but this is the first time I’m seeing the damage with my own eyes. I watch the realization dawn in her expression, and the look on her face nearly breaks me. Stepping forward, I try to ease her anxiety, wanting to brush this off for her sake. “Hey, little one. It’s good to see you enjoying yourself after this morning. How are you feeling?”

Scarlett’s head spun, memories of overheard arguments, her mother’s trembling voice, and the dark figures she once thought were shadows now clawing back vividly. “She said she was going to meet someone the day she disappeared,” Emily continued. “She promised she’d be back, but she never came home.” Scarlett blinked, a tear falling onto the table as her voice cracked, “All these years, I thought she left because she didn’t want us.” Emily reached across the table, gripping Scarlett’s hand tightly. “She loved you more than anything, Scarlett. She fought for you.” A sob tore from Scarlett’s throat, her shoulders shaking. Sebastian shifted, pulling her into his embrace, pressing a firm kiss to h

Emily shivered lightly beneath his hands, not from nervousness, but from the unfamiliar gentleness of being touched like she truly mattered. Every moment with him felt patient. Like he was learning her carefully instead of simply taking from her. Emily helped him pull the shirt over her head before reaching for his own. Damien laughed quietly against her lips when she struggled briefly with it, then lifted himself slightly to help her remove it fully. Her gaze drifted across the scars scattered faintly across his skin. Evidence of battles. Survival. Pain. Emily touched one lightly with her fingertips. “You’ve been through a lot too,” she said quietly.

His deep-set eyes, high nose bridge, full and broad forehead, and sharp yet steady jawline— Without the mask, he must be very handsome. Emily’s hand gradually moved upward, touching the skin on his left cheek where there was a coin-sized scar, starkly different from the smooth skin elsewhere. “Is it here?” Her fingertips brushed gently, like a feather. She pressed a little harder, carefully tracing the scar. “The scar is big, isn’t it?” Emily shook her head. “Emily, are you afraid of me?” Emily spoke softly, “What I fear isn’t the scar on your face but the past of yours that I don’t understand.”

As long as I was on Gil's back, my aura repelled him enough to be bearable for Gil. Drix and I were not on talking terms. Scarlette returned when I was asleep so I wasn't able to help him control his temper. Scarlette had a large scar on her arm and cheek that was struggling to heal. It looked like she was burnt with flame and then strangled with something. No one would tell me what happened so I commanded Gillian to tell me what happened. My command held superiority over Drix when it came to guard-gifted so Gil confessed.

But she didn't smell any particular smell on Emily's body. Seeing Emily really confused, Lisa curled her lips to brush the hair that fell on her forehead, revealing an indistinct scar on her white forehead. "Because of this." In her previous life, she wondered how Mark, such a pervert, could bear with her alone, even if she touched his dead end a few times, he wouldn't hurt her in the slightest. She later recalled that she had once stared at the scar on her forehead, perhaps because she had inadvertently scared her as a child, causing such a scar on her beautiful forehead, for so she always blamed herself, felt sorry for her.

He topped up my cup without asking, using the action as cover for our conversation. "But alive," I replied, keeping my voice low. He nodded, glancing at the television. "Barely, from what I hear. Third-degree burns down her left side. Internal bleeding. The blast threw her against a stone wall hard enough to crack three ribs." I sipped the freshly poured coffee, savoring both the heat and the information. Emma, my Emma, scarred and broken. It was almost poetic—her physical form finally reflecting the damage she'd done to our bond, to my reputation, to my pack. A fitting punishment, but not sufficient. Not nearly sufficient.

Colt or should she even call him that? He has crossed all the lines of a teacher. There was nothing left between them as a teacher and student thing. He has destroyed that relationship and all she can feel towards him was pure detest. Standing in front of the mirror Emma gazed at herself. A large handprint was forming a blue bruise on her arm. But today her eyes hesitantly wander to the scar on her lower ribs and the upper side of her stomach. Three long claw marks. The pink second skin looked hideous but it was there and she could do nothing to remove these marks. A constant reminder of her tragic past and a constant reminder of her parents' death.