Wolf With Scar Novels & Stories

“You’ll have to kill me first.” Scarface raised his bow, but a sudden roar stopped him—a guttural, primal sound that shook the trees. A massive wolf burst from the undergrowth, its fur silver and eyes blazing. It tore into the loyalists, scattering them in a chaos of screams and blood. Caden hauled himself up, collapsing beside Aria as the wolf dispatched the last attacker. It turned to them, its gaze piercing, and Aria’s breath caught. “The alpha,” she whispered. Caden’s wolf—the one he’d lost to the curse—restored by their blood ritual.

It was all over for her now. Then she caught a whiff of that powerful scent. A wolf leapt high from behind them. It landed between them and her with a low growl. He snarled and let out a loud howl. They all turned their noses to the skies, and followed suit. Then she noticed it, they all had the scar. They were all rogues like her. The wolf in the lead looked huge and dominant. His fur was a deep black like midnight. He advanced on her and she closed her eyes in anticipation of death.

He looked away shyly. "So, we got an intel on the wolves who had sworn their allegiance to Ben. They have a peculiar scar of the crescent that differs from that of the night howler's." Carlos looked lost, "I don't get you." "The imposters who are working for the fallen beta Ben, have a scar that differentiates them." Realizing what she meant, "you don't say!" Carlos exclaimed, "please tell me, how do we know the scar?" "It's a crescent like scar on the back of their neck. Every wolf who had pledged to being a loyalist of Benedict have it on them."

“I need to get Keira!” “No fuckin’ way.” Those gray eyes were the color of the coldest, deadest winter in history. “You’re stayin’ right here, Zee.” “But…” She struggled in his grip, didn’t gain so much as an inch. “Scars –” “Has made his decision,” Wolf said calmly. “He’s goin’ after that baby, and if he can’t get her out, nobody can. You saw the ceiling go down, you saw how Silver and Rebel and Cowboy couldn’t get within ten feet of the fire. Scars is the guy in the mouth of the devil, and he’s fightin’ that bastard right now. You get me, baby girl? He’s it, he’s the only one who has a chance. Nothin’ any of us can do except stand here and wait and hope.”

I screamed as tears rolled down my face. It was like never-ending pain as my body shifted and slowly changed. Deep chocolate fur sprang out, my paws finally forming. Gerwulf gently pet me and eased me away from the pain. He smiled and my wolf whined as he pet my snout. 'Mate mate mate!' she screamed in my head. 'Are you sure?' I felt hesitant to accept. 'Of course I'm sure! Can't you smell that?' I took in a deep breath, the most alluring scent hit me. He smelled of smoke and amber. How had I missed it? The pain must've captured my mind so much I couldn't sense it.

He loved the feeling of her fur on his skin. When she felt his hand she shifted and then it was skin to skin. She felt his fingers tracing her bite wound. It was healed but with a scar for all to see. She smiled as she felt his lips nuzzling at her neck. She turned to face him and couldn't believe the sight of him laying next to her, gazing at her with lust and longing and love in his eyes and on his face. And he was all hers. Her wolf reminded her they still had to mark him or some other bitch may try to take him.

I asked, my voice almost lost in the wind. He looked down, staring at me with eyes filled with dark memories. "It's so clear. It's been playing like a broken record in my head since I was a child. That wolf had a distinctive feature I couldn't possibly mistake." He paused, his jaw tightening. "It was a black wolf, with a long scar across its temple, right near its glowing green eyes." My world seemed to stop spinning. It felt like being doused with ice water in the middle of winter. A long cut across the temple... a permanent scar near its green eye...

would do all the work, but at that time, I was literally speechless. "What? Are you afraid of her?" my wolf gloated. "I'm not afraid of no shit!" I barked. "Double negative. Very interesting. You completely freak out." he chuckled. "She's fucking on fire! You saw her! She was like a fucking burning candle and it was extremely painful when she grabbed my arms! And the scars were there! I can't fucking heal them!" I argued. "You've branded her. So now you're even," my wolf said. He must have got that shit-eating smile on his face again.

So I climb up the tree again, watching the bloody battle beneath me, silently rooting for the familiar wolves. But then, from my position on the higher branch, I notice another wolf approaching the black one. This one has a ragged scar on his face. A scar I recognize, since I’m the one that gave it to him. The black wolf doesn’t seem to notice him and is left defenseless. No! No! No! Not him!

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” Her laugh was bitter and broken. “Alone’s safer.” The words tore through me, sharper than any rogue’s claws. I stopped moving, giving her space even though every instinct screamed at me to close the distance. Then the wind shifted again, carrying her scent in full force, and it was like I’d been struck by lightning. My wolf surged forward, snarling. She’s hurt. I took a closer look. There were deep bruises on her arms, largely visible even beneath her sleeves. Her whole body seems swollen, as if she’d taken a blow all over. Rage roared in my chest, nearly drowning out my wolf’s possessive growl.