Novel & Cerita Scarred Spicy Chapters

A smile of a devil. He hold out a hand and then reached for her face. He caresses her small pale face with his big palm and long fingers. He touched and tapped her cheek gently with his thumb. It was cold. Her face was cold and she was close to having frostbite. He frowned at the texture. It was unpleasant to touch. His thumb went to her lips next. He rubbed it and instead of feeling the soft, delicate, and plump feeling he always felt before, his thumb felt a whole different texture. It was rough as sandpaper but as his finger wandered, he touched a sticky liquid.

Chapter 1 Scarlet’s POV I pushed open the door of the old church and the cool air hit me, carrying that familiar smell of incense and oak. My black skirt hugged my hips tight and rode up my thighs with every step I took down the aisle. At twenty-two I was done pretending I had my shit together. The fights with my parents, the random hookups that left me emptier every time, the constant buzzing in my head that nothing could shut up. I needed guidance, control, maybe just someone to listen without judging me to my face.

“And spicy.” “You should have thought of that before serving me,” she replied coolly. I swallowed hard. I wanted to tell her I hadn’t cooked it that way. But the truth had never mattered here. “Keep drinking,” she ordered. “And stop whining.” I nodded again. Bracing myself, I lifted the bowl and forced myself to drink it all in one go. The spice scorched my tongue and scraped down my throat like fire, my eyes watering as my stomach twisted violently. The salt made nausea rise fast and sharp, and I had to fight the urge to retch.

I barely recognized the girl staring back at me in the black screen. Scars ran down my face, souvenirs from the day I ran into the fire to save the photo Axel and Gloria left behind. None of it mattered anymore. Leaving him was the only thing that did.

“Don’t you get it? This is about what rightfully belongs to me!” “And that would be what, exactly?” Leaning down, he ripped his shirt off, exposing his chest. “You seem to have forgotten,” he spat, staring down at his chest, at the scar I now saw there. The long, dark, ugly scar. “So,” he continued, “I’ll remind you. I mean, that’s the reason we’re here, isn’t it? It’s not about girls or fucking money. This,” he traced a finger across the scar, “is why we’re here.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE This Work is composed of two parts: Part One: Broken Hearts and Fragile Souls Part Two: Cures and Soulmates *The following chapters are skippable: Chapter 71 Loving Alpha (Bonus Chapter 01) Chapter 77 Sour Brownies (Bonus Chapter 02) Chapter 80 Little Alphas (Short Story 01) *The chapter succeeding the Epilogue is a COPYRIGHT AND DISCLAIMER NOTICE * Please note that this Work contains Mature Themes including but not limited to vulgar language, violence, and sexual acts. Strictly NOT for minors.

But after all that long, she was sitting in front of me. I went towards her and she stood up. She looked older than I used to see her. But younger than I was thinking about her to be. I gently grabbed her arm and turned her around. I gasped as I saw a scar on her face. I had never seen that scar on her face. It was covering most of her right cheek and there neck. She gulped hard and backed away a little. But I caught her before she would have gone away. I cupped her face with both of my hands and stared into her eyes. Both of my thumbs were caressing her soft cheek. I dipped my head in and pecked her right cheek, to tell her that she looked stunning even with that scar on her face. Just with

Chapter 2 Isabelle felt her throat tightening around her, allowing little air to pass through. Her lungs burned, while her feet failed to obey her command to run. She wanted to get out of there and go straight to the hospital to get checked. Her mind failed to make connections of the events that night. The more she probed, the more the contents inside her head became a jumbled mess. She could hear whispers around her but she couldn't make out the words clearly. Her father's booming voice however surpassed the rest, she felt every venomous vibration as he roared. "You are a disgrace to this family! "

" She... She re-opened dad's case? Why? Isn't she the one who told me that I should stop fighting against that invisible enemy of us? Why would she... Do this?" I stood up even if I feel like I would fall in any moment. I accidentally passed by a mirror and saw my scar. The memories that I buried six feet under the ground starts to flash like a flood. The screams in pain, the culprit's laugh, dad's cry in pain, our maids' shouts, and my cries. God, I need to stop this again. If this kept on flashing back, I'll lost myself again. And I don't want that to happen.

“Oh, right. Hi.” “Hi.” He extended his massive hand, and she took it cautiously. That was when she felt the scars on his hands. Even without looking, just from touching the flesh under her fingertips, she knew now that his scars weren’t from a knife, or glass, or a prison yard fight gone way wrong. These were from burns, bad burns, burns that he’d carried since childhood maybe, and her heart squeezed. In her years as a tattoo artist, she’d covered up hundreds of scars, but in some ways, the most heartbreaking ones were burns. The stories attached to them were always, always so damn painful.