Romans & histoires Vigilante Deku Scarf

☠️ CHAPTER TEN ☠️ Raven on opening the second drawer, saw the yellow scarf inside and she took it out. She frowned her brows in confusion, staring at the back of the scarf. " Why does this scarf look pretty familiar?" She asked herself. A burry picture of the scarf flashed through her mind and she rubbed her temple as she felt a slight headache. She closed her eyes to get a clearer picture of it but it was still blurry. She snapped her eyes open.

There, the ground dipped into a jagged ravine, and at the far edge… A faint shimmer in the air. It wasn’t visible to human eyes, but to wolves, it was unmistakable — the thinning veil between the werewolf realm and the human world. A crossing point. The wind shifted, carrying with it something heartbreakingly familiar. One of the trackers crouched low, pawing at the dirt before lifting his head and snarling softly. “Here.” Lying half-buried in the leaves was a scarf. Soft, woven wool, its deep green dyed with the Northridge crest embroidered in gold thread.

“Hey, Emily! This place really looks fantastic.” “Thank you, Kayla!” I said, my voice filled with warmth. “I’m so glad you’re here.” I reached behind the counter and pulled out two carefully wrapped packages. “I’ve got a special gift for both of you.” As they unwrapped the gifts, their eyes widened with delight. Inside were matching stylized scarves, each a beautiful blend of soft pastels with intricate patterns that hinted at elegance and a touch of whimsy. The scarves were adorned with delicate, hand-embroidered details that made them unique and personal.

"Stay here, Aria. It could be dangerous." But Aria couldn’t stay put. She had to know. She pushed open the door and stepped outside, her eyes scanning the gathering crowd. At the center, she saw a figure—a tall, imposing man with a scarred face, his presence exuding menace. The air around him crackled with dark energy. "Who… who is that?" Aria whispered to a nearby pack member. "That’s the rogue Alpha," the pack member muttered, eyes wide with fear. "He’s here to challenge Alpha Caden for control of the pack."

In Verdentia, all rogues were marked with an x-shaped scar on their left eye, whether in human or wolf form, as a sign that they did not belong to any pack and were on their own. She instinctively tightened her grip on her sword, ready to defend herself if they attacked. She couldn't fathom why these strangers were there or which pack they were from, but her intuition told her that they were targeting her for a reason. The powerful gusts of wind whipped through Lyra 's hair and stung her face, urging her to remain alert as she froze, her eyes scanning the advancing figures before her. With each deliberate step they took, Lyra could feel their intimidation tactics intensifying.

BONUS CHAPTER FOR THOSE THAT SUPPORT THIS WORK. THANK YOU! Scarlett tied her hair up and faced the killers that are dressed in black overall with their face covered. She looked at them up and down until she saw the red logo at their chest. "It turned out to be the Red eagles" She muttered as they killers opposite became even more vigilant. They were sent to kill her but they didn't expect that she would discover their identity before they will even start. But this urged them to kill her faster and get out of her.

I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to face off with someone who could overcome Jeffrey. Then Jeffrey stumbled beneath a streetlamp, holding a scruffy, bloodied man in a headlock. “Jeffrey?” I asked. “What’s going on?” “This is your stalker,” Jeffrey grunted, struggling to keep his hold on the man. “Alexander Chevalier, the Bloody Knight. He’s the most well-known assassin in the werewolf criminal underworld.” Jeffrey pulled something out of Chevalier’s pocket and tossed it to me. The smooth fabric was immediately familiar. My favorite scarf.

It was not only theoretically, but explicitly the hierarchy of positions of his defense. Akil, Normani and Hadd they were at the front, they wore boots with reinforced ties, sophisticated cut pants and the black blazer with side cufflinks and drawings on the wrists, with their faces covered, their hands wielding their frightening weapons, they had gloves with the coat of arms Aistarabaw gleaming like the only gold trim on her somber clothes. That was the tactic, they covered their faces now so that Normani could participate in the escort with her face and head covered, without arousing suspicion. And it was amazing that they wore cloth over their mouths, Shemagh, the fabric of military origi

Scar folds her arms and turns away, glaring out of the window when she is not even sure what she’s upset about, “I’m just worried about our deal.” Silco's lips curve up, and his eyes are light gentle, and caring, but right before Scar turns around to peek at him he looks away and hides that moment of his true self-- “Speaking of our deal,” Silco opens his suitcase at foot, pulling out a black invitation card with golden edges, “I bear a gift for you.” The curious new toy successfully made Scar put the little moment at the back of her mind, “What’s this? HA?” On the front are two gilded words: Heritage Auctions.

"Take it in." As she pushed the heavy machine toward the subterranean vault, I followed her inside, my eyes instantly adjusting to the vast collection of wealth stored within the mountain. The room was filled with rare artifacts, prototype weaponry, high-end timepieces, and historical pack banners—each worth enough to fund a minor syndicate war for a year. But as I scanned the rows of opulence, my gaze stopped on a simple, hand-knitted pink scarf resting inside a reinforced glass case. It looked completely out of place among the tactical gear and ancient gold, the rough wool and uneven stitching showing it was made by an amateur.