Novel & Cerita Tarnished X Marika

Faces mine. They take formation in two rows beside the relic. No expression. No hesitation. Mara's bare heel leaves blood on the clean floor. She notices and keeps walking. Like mirrors that have never had to decide what to reflect. The Director says, “Let us test what dirt is worth.”

Witch Una immediately made a barrier to the two of them who wanted to save Marek. Marek, who saw his parents wanted to save him, smiled scornfully at them and said quietly; "It's all your fault for wanting to tear us apart. I wouldn't want to be tied down to anyone but Hillena." Staring sadly at Hilena who had tears in her eyes; "I will only love you, Hilena. You should have trusted me." Hugging the body of Hilena who was starting to lose her breath, Marek closed his eyes and let the mana flames also burn his body without any protection.

Beside Aloha stood Ximena, Tesla, Tiara, and Marvins. Dread clenched her heart as she readied herself for what she was about to do. With a mix of determination and anxiety on her face, she turned to Marvins, her eyes holding a glimmer of hope. It was as if she wanted to appeal to his reason, even though the odds were slim. She hesitated, uncertain if she could truly change Marvins' mind. But the risk was worth it, even in the face of Tiara's cold gaze that usually silenced her.

“—mark you?” I swallowed. Then, shyly, tugged the shawl aside. Rori screamed. A high-pitched kettle whistle of pure joy. “OH MY GODS, IT’S SO GORGEOUS! Look at the detailing! He must’ve been feral—” “Rori, volume!” Martha chuckled, wiping her hands. “About time. I knew Xeros couldn't resist. All that talk about restraint and holding back. You look like you've been ravaged. In a good way.”

The drug felt like liquid fire coursing through my body. The pain of the contractions suddenly vanished, replaced by a strange, creeping numbness. My limbs grew as heavy as lead. I could barely lift a finger. "Good," Darren nodded, satisfied. "She’s more cooperative now." The click of high heels echoed from the hall. Silvana walked in, a twisted look of triumph on her face. "You should have taught her this lesson a long time ago, brother," she said, nudging my limp hand with the toe of her shoe. "A whore like her brings nothing but shame to the Falcone name."

“I never agreed to any of that. I haven’t made my decision about the marriage yet.” “You think you have a choice?” she snapped, her eyes narrowing. “You think after everything your existence has cost us, you still get to decide?” Her words hit me like a slap. “I didn’t—” “You should be grateful, Lila,” she went on, stepping closer. “Grateful that anyone still wants to tie their name to yours after all the damage you’ve caused. This marriage is the least you can do for the pack you almost ruined.” Almost ruined? I did not even do anything.

Damian's thoughts were in disarray, his only concern to save Elara, the sole source of his strength. "Do you hear yourself, Damian? Are you really the one I'm talking to? The Damian I know is not weak. Running away won't solve anything, and you can't save Elara from her fate unless you kill Fiona," Xavier snapped, his voice brimming with frustration. He never imagined a time would come when he'd be this irritated with Damian. He knew Damian as a fearless and unyielding partner, admired for his courage and determination. But now, all Xavier felt was a pity.

She feels the tension even if she doesn’t understand all of it. I know I fucked up with Xander. I know how bad it looks. I still don’t care. I won’t let anyone disrespect her. Not him. Not anyone. My phone vibrates inside my jacket. I leave it there. Marco’s phone buzzes right after. He checks it, his jaw tightening. “And so it starts,” he mutters. “What?” He turns the screen toward me. The video is shaky. Grainy. Still clear enough. Me. My fist. Xander Chen. The Gala of Hearts. The Éclat Magazine watermark sits in the corner like a warning.

he asked, his voice cutting through the ritual jargon, “why did you erase the girl afterward?” The healing wing went utterly still. Maera stared at him, and for the first time that night, raw hatred broke through her mask of sorrowful piety. Marek stepped forward under Tovan’s watchful guard, his posture bearing the weight of years of exile. “I remember the cleanup after Mira’s rite,” Marek said quietly. “I remember the moon-glass vessel. The black-silver bracelet. I remember the child’s wolf looking back toward the nursery as it was dragged away.”

I blurted out, a shudder running through me as the scene of Xavier killing Yelsa and Jason flashed through my head. “Killed who? Let’s get you inside, you’re shaking.” Marek commented as he hoisted me to my feet. As we walked to the pack house, I couldn’t help but imagine that same smile on his face as he did same thing to me. “Do you need water?” Marek asked me once I sat onto the bed. The fact that his scent still radiated in the air and made my heart tingling despite the sight I had seen made me believe something was wrong with me.