Vigilante Deku Scarf Novels & Stories

Kenchki watched as the women's expression changed from polite to awkward immediately after her eyes looked at Yoshiki's face on his phone. Lin Su, just got a part-time job at the local grocery shop which was two blocks from her home, as the only daughter and child of her parent's, Lin Su was often the object of her parent's worries and fears, they feared she would be taken advantage of by people outside her family, after much begging and tears her parent's finally allowed her to get a job, of course it was under the conditions of her mother picking her up and dropping her off, but Lin Su cared little about that, she saw nothing bad about it, until a week ago, beautiful women who shopped at t

A flicker of hope ignites within me, wondering if perhaps it’s a surprise from Andrea and what it could be. I can vividly recall the way her cheeks turned pink last night as I spoke about my ideal woman in front of her mom and grandmother. The memory brings a smile to my face, and I couldn’t wait to see her again once I finished up my business today. Eagerly, I take the square box from the receptionist, my fingers trembling slightly as I tear open the packaging. But the moment I lay eyes on its contents, my blood turns to ice, a chilling dread seeping into my bones. Inside, a familiar scarf lies, its delicate fabric marred by the unmistakable stain of blood. The receptionist’s voice fades in

“Then keep looking.” He then exchanged a glance with one of the trackers and that look made my temper rise instantly. “What?” One of the trackers stepped forward slowly, he was young, too young to look this nervous. “Alpha…” He held something out, a torn piece of cloth and my breath caught, it was Nyra’s scarf. I knew it immediately, she wore it all winter. The same pale scarf she once forgot in my room, and I had my servant return it to her because she kept catching fevers.

A flicker of fear crept over me. Scar was heavily built and almost as tall as Wraith; his eyes were blue, and his hair was a shock of white. He too was covered in scars, but the most gruesome was on his face. It seemed like someone had carved him open from the forehead down, only to restitch him back up. The Ironside Pack were on their feet now, cheering. I could finally understand why Rex thought of ‘Scar’ as a worthy opponent. He definitely looked the part. “Last calls for bets!” a man called out, and Rex motioned him over.

Elder George asked, looking at Yara's scarf skeptically. "Or any reason at all to believe such slanderous words. This could cause a dangerous scandal beyond anything we've ever seen, it could hurt the image of the pack." Elder Grim added. "Take off your scarf." The Elder with the large grey eyes commanded. Yara didn't move, she remained rooted to her spot, hands on her laps as all eyes including Kylie's fell on her.

With any of these, I was convinced that I haven’t experienced the meaning of matebond… of love. A cheeky smile appeared on my lips as we got to the border of my father’s pack…Home atlast… home sweet home. “ You need to get that scarf off your head.” Edgar warned as I pushed it further to cover my face completely. “Alpha Derrick sent us.”Edgar said to the gamma with a stern voice. The gamma looked at us as though he was scanning us. They were trained to perceive rogue scents, they could even tell if there was one by just looking at the person but we weren’t right?”

"We’re locals. Born and bred." "Then explain why the visiting Alpha had this mess sent over for you." "The Warhawks?" Isaac shook out the heavy material. It wasn't just a jersey; it was a sanctuary of black and red fabric. Santiago Vega’s name was stitched across the shoulders, the number twenty-two standing out like a bloodstain. It was large enough to be a tent, smelling faintly of cedar and the heavy, musky scent of a dominant werewolf. "Holy..." Camila trailed off. "He gave you his actual colors? Isaac, that’s a fated-claim move in some packs. How intense is this guy?"

My fingers froze on the edge of the scarf. One heartbeat. Two. I lifted my gaze to his slowly, hoping that permanently scarring my skin was enough for me not to end up in my own pool of blood beside the last person. The guard didn’t even flinch. With surprisingly steady hands, I unwrapped the scarf.

This was different. My senses, already heightened, zeroed in, leading me towards the outer wall. And there it was. My breath hitched. A raven, its black feathers stark against the cold stone, pinned by a small, cruelly fashioned dagger driven straight through its chest. My jaw tightened. This wasn't just a dead bird; it was a fucking statement. Then I saw it, tied to its leg with a rough piece of twine – a scrap of cloth, faded and torn, but the sigil was unmistakable. A snarling wolf’s head, white against a blood-red field. It was from The Northern Highlands.

As he rasped out, Sarah wobbled and slipped effortlessly back on the floor, ''Where is he?! Where is your damn Tiger?!” ''I'm right here!” Came back the echo behind him. Everyone froze. The panting Sarah raised her head. A tall man, dressed in a black shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, a khaki jeans tugged in a pair of black ankle boot. A scarf secured around his face, masking his identity and the long hair was down covering his eyebrows. Only his eyes were apparent, a grey glittering piercing eyes, the eyes of a wolf!