Scorched Novels & Stories

I had no idea she was even connected to this world outside the Moonbeam Pack. I tried to avoid her, but before I could turn away, she stepped into my path. “Well, well, well.” She sneered. “Look who’s playing dress up.” I clenched my fists at my sides, willing myself to stay calm. “I don’t know you,” I said, my voice steady. “Please excuse me.” Her lip curled into a cruel smile. “Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t remember me, Rowena. The rejected Luna. The murderer.”

As I burned to death, my lungs filled with despair. The extreme temperature made red lumps and blisters form across my body, which was curled up towards the end as if I had transformed into a lump of coal. With the gentlest touch, my skin flaked away to expose the lumps of flesh underneath. The state of my body was so horrific that even the firefighters and doctors who arrived at the scene did not dare to approach. They all covered their mouths and noses before beginning to throw up.

scorch said and got out of his room looking at Tyson expectantly "You crazy!!" he shouted in anger looking at scorch this little guy wanted to bath with his blood "Just a drop of blood on top of my head" scorch said pleading... They were both done bathing by the way scorch did take a bath with a drop of Tyson's blood and the little finger he bites was healed in seconds which made Tyson amazed,next Tyson went to hoger's room to take him with but when he got there he was bound to be disappointed because hoger was not there he called a guard

Her clothes were torn and there were claw marks and bite wounds all over her, the worst of which was a claw mark that traveled from her left collarbone to her right hip. Luckily it didn’t appear too deep, and someone had soaked it with a herb poultice, as if to help it heal. " I will help you." Scar said as she muttered some words placing her hand on the wound , she looked at it but her chants weren't doing justice. She repeated again and again before Hazel told her to stop

With a smirk of satisfaction, she deflected his final fireball with ease, before countering with a display of her own power—She conjured a stream of fire, reminiscent of the display Thrystan had once performed on the streets of Wyrm. However, unlike his, hers lacked the intricate form of a dragon's head, instead manifesting as a raw, unbridled torrent of flames. With precision and finesse, she directed it towards Jagger, but he deftly redirected the fiery onslaught, showcasing his own mastery over flame. It became evident that she was a Scorcher, wielding the element with formidable skill.

I raise my own, calling wind, desperate to push the flames back. But it doesn't respond like normal fire. It screams. We fight it anyway. It takes both of us, our powers colliding and twining, to push down the inferno until the fire chokes on ash and gives out. Smoke curls around us, thick and stinging. We’re panting, both of us covered in soot. I stare at the scorched bark. "It reacted to you," I whisper. Scarlett drops to her knees. "I didn’t mean to. I swear I didn’t-"

The archives, the rows of history, the heavy ledgers, and the hidden secrets of a hundred years, were erased in a single heartbeat of fire. The "Scorched Earth" protocol was no longer a theoretical threat; it was a devastating reality. Dust, pulverized concrete, and the ancient fibers of burnt paper turned the air into a thick, choking gray soup. I hit the floor hard, the breath driven from my lungs in a sharp, agonizing burst that left me gasping for air that was no longer there. I scrambled to sit up, my head spinning in dizzying circles, the hallucinogen Pierce had fed me turning the flickering fires into dancing, demonic shapes that clawed at the edges of

The Great Eclipse had begun. "Mother... look," Leo whispered, standing up with a grace that felt increasingly alien. He pointed toward the horizon. The wreckage of the Spire lay scattered across the plains like the bones of a giant bird. But in the center of the debris, the shadow we had seen in the archives was growing. It wasn't smoke or fog; it was a physical manifestation of rejection, a creature of obsidian oil and weeping silver that towered over the hills. The Goddess of Scorn.

Caleb growled, his hand hovering over her face but unable to touch the spiritual fire she was igniting. "If we don't get that fragment, I won't survive the night anyway." Scarlett looked him directly in the eye, her spirit already beginning to drift. "Caleb, this is our only winning move." With the doctor’s assistance, Scarlett lit a stick of Soul-Settling Incense. As the aromatic smoke curled around her, she felt a violent tearing sensation. Her body slumped back onto the pillows, pale and barely breathing, while her spirit rose—a translucent, shimmering form glowing with a faint golden hue.

A massive wolf stepped into the clearing, black fur matted, its eyes wild with something inhuman. A corrupted creature. The rogue. It stood still, watching me, as if amused by the look on my face. Its scent hit me like a wall. Rotting magic, ancient decay. It was death incarnate.