Scorch Marvel Novels & Stories

Chase shot out backward like a cannonball and crashed hard into a tree. "Bastard!" Chase struggled to stand. There was a dent in his chest, and it felt like his internal organs were squashed. He was in great pain. "Either you or I will die today, Chase Collins!" Scoot grunted coldly. The vital energy in his body boiled, forming a burning golden flame that scorched the plants all around him. He leaped into the air and raised his blade high. The blade was burning furiously, powerful heat emanating from it.

Mira added. Serena felt it immediately. The pressure. The pull. A voice brushing against her mind—her own voice, but spoken in reverse: “Live to burn. Burn to live.” She shook it off. “We move together,” she said. “No one separates. No matter what you hear.” They reached the heart of the valley by midmorning. And there it was. The Scar. It was not a gate. Not anymore. It was a tree, or what was left of it—massive, scorched, hollow at the core. Twisted branches like claws stretched toward a pale sky. Its roots burrowed deep into the blackened soil, steaming faintly with the remnants of power.

Now all that is left of Marion is his body, wingless and without his furry feathers anymore, brown and charred with burnt skin on some parts, soak in broth and vegetables around him. “M..Marion..” she whispers. She couldn’t hear the sound of Ariadne calling out to her. She was crying too and tried to wake her from her shock but Eve's vision went red. She felt her magic rising from her skin, her life force pools in her palm as she jumps on the screaming Nika who just had a wide smile before. Screams can be heard in the dining room. She felt hands trying to pull her off but her magic made her strong and everyone who tries to touch her cringed in pain when in contact with her icy cold body.

Now that your girlfriends have dumped you, you come crawling to me for money? "Why should I give you any?" He shook with fear but still glared at me, shouting, "Cut the nonsense! I didn't break any laws when I left you. You were already grown up! We have laws here, so you have to take care of me! "Pay me three thousand, no, five thousand dollars a month! Or I'll make trouble every day, and neither you nor that woman will get any peace! I'll let everyone know that the 'Victory Queen' is a monster who abandoned her own father!"

And when he spoke again, it wasn’t Harlan’s name that came out of his mouth. "You know," he said, his voice dripping with false sympathy, "I could take you back to Harlan. But I have... other plans." Ben stepped forward, his body tense, his grip tight on his rifle. "What do you want, Marcus?" Marcus chuckled, the sound low and humorless. "It's not about what I want. It’s about what Luther wants." The name hit me like a punch to the gut. Luther. The leader of The Scorchers—a ruthless gang that controlled the wastelands beyond Eagle’s Nest. They were known for raiding camps, burning everything in their path, and leaving nothing but ash behind.

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.

Asher called but I can't find it in me to look away from Logan's nipple. "You know I was joking right?" Logan said but I just can't look at anything else. "Excuse me." He said and left and even though he is no longer standing in front of me, I still can't look at anything else... I can vividly see the scar staring back at me. "Nicole, are you okay." Asher called and tapped me at the same time and that's when I finally snapped out of it, it was like the scar held me in a trance.

His voice was venom. Before Scar could react, Marshall crossed the room in a flash, grabbed his shirt, and slammed him hard against the wall. The glass fell from his hand, shattering. “She is not my mother!” he roared. “Don’t ever call her that again.” Scar didn’t flinch. “Boss… she’s dangerous. More dangerous than we imagined. Going against her might be suicide.”

He had resisted the idea of seeking out a mate amidst his personal turmoil, but the growing tension in the air reminded him that time was a luxury he could no longer afford. His fierce contemplation was abruptly shattered by the sudden intrusion of one of his scouts. The door swung open with a creak, and the scout stumbled in, his eyes wide and filled with unspoken dread. Breathless and panicked, he leaned against the doorframe, the urgency radiating off him like a palpable energy that sent alarm bells ringing in Caden’s mind. "Caden, I have terrible news," the scout gasped, his voice barely above a whisper, as though the air itself was heavy with foreboding. "I've just received word that th

That song, was the mark that means the end of the game. She cried and cried her eyes out in joy. 'Thank god,' she said inside her heart. 'I have survived another day of the hunt.' —