Scorched Novels & Stories

"Didn't know she would murder my parents? Didn't know she would steal my entire legacy? Or didn't know she would humiliate me in front of the world?" Clark was speechless. "Or," I continued, "did you know all along and just chose to look the other way?" "No! I really didn't know—" "Then what about this?" I turned my back to him and unfastened the top of my tunic. A gruesome scar ran from my left shoulder to my right hip. The eclipse curse had turned it a sickly silver-black, and it still seemed to writhe slowly, eating away at my life force. Clark's breath hitched.

He trails his warm breath down my neck and over my collarbones as he tells me how much he loves me. I push his shirt from his shoulders, dragging my nails softly over his skin. “Are they still there?” I ask, looking for the marks on my fingernails. “They are.” He chuckles, dragging my fingertips down to where they’ve scarred. “Oh my God, I was joking.” I trace the small mark I left on him. “I’m sorry.”

Sebastian roared, running with everything he had left, though he knew he wouldn’t make it in time. And then The world exploded in light. A blinding, pure white radiance burst through the air, so fierce it forced every creature rogue and warrior alike to shield their eyes. The rogue let out a shriek, twisting and writhing in agony as its flesh burned under the brilliance. Within seconds, it collapsed, lifeless, smoke rising from its charred body. Silence fell. The glow faded as quickly as it had appeared, leaving only the faint shimmer of dust drifting through the smoky air.

Hot enough to set paper aflame. He left scorching, smoking footprints on the floor with every step. Lily and Kael both took a step back. 【WARNING: S-Rank Boss, ‘The Ashen Revenant,’ has appeared. He was burned alive in a fire. He hates all living things. His ‘Flames of Retribution’ can burn even the soul to ash.】 But I smelled nothing. Felt no heat. To me, he just looked like some poor chimney sweep after a very, very bad day.

Marco sneered, lunging at me and tearing at my clothes. I fought back with everything I had, trying to buy myself time. Thanks to all the chores Bianca used to make me do, I was stronger than I looked. For a moment, Marco couldn't overpower me. He cursed, his movements becoming rougher. Just as my strength was about to give out— BOOM! With a massive crash, the solid hotel room door was kicked off its hinges, wood splinters flying everywhere. Caspian appeared in the doorway like a god of vengeance, radiating a fury that promised hell.

A man on the boat reached out his hand to help me up. His face was hidden in shadow, but I could see a scar running down his cheek. I watched the flames and bid farewell to my former self. From this moment on, there was no more Serena Ferrari. From now on, I would become my own queen.

He unbuttons his black leather tunic and shoves the heavy material aside, exposing his bare chest. Zanele’s laughter dies instantly in her throat. Her eyes widen in absolute horror. Stretching from his left shoulder, down across his ribs, and carving deep into his abdomen was a horrifying, raised scar of blackened flesh—the permanent, unhealable mark of a Bloodmoon Fire penalty, where the skin had been burned straight to the bone.

He thought I was choking. The pain grew bigger. It spread like liquid fire through my veins. It ripped at my heart. My fingers hooked into my shirt, tearing the buttons open. I needed air. I needed the burning to stop. But this pain was not mine. It belonged to Scout. The mate bond inside my soul vibrated violently. It screamed. My vision turned black around the edges. I could not breathe. I could not think. Every nerve in my body was on fire. She was dying. The truth crashed into my brain.

The scars burned in a register the dens’ public shape did not measure and did not need to measure in order to survive. The thin answering pressures continued through the burning nights the same way they continued through the ordinary ones. They arrived when they arrived. Stefan registered them through residual claim-scent without mistaking any brief variation for a sign that residual density might return and cool the scars. The dens registered them without adjusting long-term schedules around their intervals. The permanent mark sent them at its own rate. The scars burned underneath the thin answers the same way they burned underneath the formal duty and the sealed wing and the unsent sequenc

That was all it took for a drop of tear to roll down my cheek , I'm married to him Wait I didn't think this through, what have I done how will Mami live alone with just Zafeer he still little , who will help Mami around the house what if she gets too stressed and falls sick Ya Allah (oh God) what have I done . "My baby" Mami screamed as she entered my room "Daga karshe an daura auren , my beautiful angel na ya yi aure, na san an daura auren nan amma don Allah kusa da mijinki, ki yi hakuri da shi kuma Allah zai ba ku. Kada ku yi jayayya da shi ku tabbata a koyaushe yana farin ciki cewa ba za a sami dalilin korafi ba idan ya yi wani abu da ba ku so ku zaunar da shi ku yi magana da shi kuma a