Scoundrel Sans Novels & Stories

He was a picture of squalid, petty cruelty. ​"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," John slurred, his eyes narrowing as he took in her expensive, if simple, dress and the sleek leather handbag clutched in her hands. "Did the Mafia Prince decide to send his little carrier pigeon back to the slums?"

ETHAN'S POV A message…for me. I take a towards the scout, tension snapping back into my spine. Lyra watched me, eyes wide with worry, as she fiddled with her hands. “From whom?” The scout swallows hard, holding out the letter. “There's no name. Just your title on the envelope. But the scent on it…it's unfamiliar. Not like any wolf.” I take it from him carefully, my eyes narrowing. The paper is old– too old. Sealed with black wax bearing no crest.

"What? What is it? What?!" "The man! The Sheikh's son, Omar!" "Omar?" Mariam scoffed and turned back to the mirror. "What about him?" Saadiya continued. "The rumors are not entirely false but they did no justice in perfectly describing him. The man is handsome! No, not that. The Man is a beauty to behold, oh Mariam he would give you a run for your money!" She giggled. "Or a run for your beauty." To Saadiya, describing Omar as being beautiful was an understatement. Her wild description made Mariam want to stand up and rush to the window to see the person who had both her friends fixed to the spot but she held herself and her brows knitted into a frown.

Mitbahl's face instantly fell. Diana's mouth twitched. Misoup and Meatball? Their names were truly unique. "Once it's in your hands, it'll turn to ashes. What can you possibly ask?" Scarbrow taunted. "It's a lot more direct than your disgusting methods. Last time, that person was dissected by you into a skeleton. You never find it troublesome!" Mitbahl retorted. Scarbrow was unimpressed, "Don't you think it's rather artistic? I planned to air-dry it and hang it in the living room as a specimen for admiration."

Pixies and dryads were huddled together in fear from the hovering stings and probing tentacles. The enemy leader, a Prime Chimera, turned to the three Scions with wide, taunting smile that bared his fangs. It was shaped like a large, hunched bat with silver scales all over its body. The bat leaped forward and made an ugly screech to the Scions. "We've been expecting you, Scions." His voice was rough and strained. "Why, thank you. So let's get to it, shall we?" Rachelia smiled, and flicked her wrist.

Madam Evelyn glanced at the briefcase loaded with money but refused to touch it. “Young man, I think you're at the wrong place. All the chefs we have were–” “I don't mean your servants.” The woman raised a brow, “Is that so? Then may I know what chef you are talking about?” “Saffron.” The old woman paused for a moment, then leaned back and said candidly, “We don't have a person with that name here.”

"I want to try something new." But Andrew was still holding Jefferson's steps. He couldn't believe what he was saying. But to be honest, the ramen shop visitor is very suspicious if you look around. Most look scary, with tattoos, earrings, piercings, and scars on their faces and bodies. Jefferson understood that even everyone would know right away that they were a mafia gang, let alone an officer like Andrew. "How about we go to the mall and then to a Japanese restaurant? I'll pay for it."

Ethan was in a meeting, so I waited in his office. That was when Sophia walked in. She politely brought in coffee, and when she bent forward, I caught the familiar scent of cologne. Just as Joy had described, it was Ethan's scent. "Don't you have anything to say to me?" I asked suddenly. Her hand trembled, spilling hot coffee on herself, leaving red marks instantly. She looked fragile and helpless as her eyes darted away. Flustered, she crouched down to clean the mess and did not answer.