Wretched Emily Mcintire の小説・ストーリー

"Ms. Hale, isn't it true that Nicholas Blackwood humiliated you so completely that you fled the territory and didn't return for six years?" "I left because I was pregnant and scared and—" "You left because he destroyed you." He steps closer. "Didn't he? Didn't he break something in you that morning?" Emily's hands are shaking. I can see them trembling from twenty feet away. "Answer the question, Ms. Hale," Whitmore says. "Yes," Emily says. Her voice cracks. "He broke me."

My confused aunt stepped back in confusion while Emily scuffled behind me, away from my raging mother. "What is this woman doing here, Eric?" She exclaimed in annoyance. "This woman has a name, mother. I'm sure you recall her name is Emily Wilson, my darling wife." Her jaw dropped inches wide in shock as she stared at me. "B-B-But she left. She abandoned you-us over five years ago!" I smirked. "But she's back now, mother," I corrected, taking the flustered Emily's hand in mine. The servants who had taken her bags walked past me to the room I had prepared for her while my mother stared at them in disbelief.

she spoke, her words laced with a hint of desperation, "we don't want to see you succumb to this darkness. There's still a chance for redemption, for you to reclaim your true self." Emily's evil grin remained, her eyes gleaming with a wicked delight. She tilted her head, as if considering Scarlett's plea, but her amusement was evident. "Oh, my dear Scarlett," she purred, her voice dripping with venomous amusement, "redemption is a concept for the weak. I have transcended such notions." Scarlett felt a surge of frustration welling up within her. How could her sister, once filled with compassion and love, have become so twisted? She couldn't bear to see Emily reveling in her newfound power, em

One sunrise bled into another, the days measured not in hours but in scars, whispers, and the steady hum of engines pulling in and out of the lot. For Rhett, time became a cycle: lead the brothers, guard Emily, and dig for the ghost of the man who had broken her. Six weeks passed, each one carving deeper lines into his face, heavier shadows under his eyes. ________________ The first week was chaos. The rally fight still echoed, Emily’s name still whispered in every corner of the clubhouse. Men from other charters nodded to her with respect, women offered her smiles instead of sideways glances. She walked taller, fire in her steps, and Rhett couldn’t stop watching her.

The pain of her absence gnawed at his soul, a constant reminder of the consequences of his actions. But amidst the despair, a flicker of determination ignited within Eric. He vowed to find Emily, to make amends for the choices he had made. The twisted legacy of his family would not dictate his future any longer. He would unravel the mysteries surrounding the dark wand pack, and in doing so, he would bring Emily back, safe and sound.

Now I scrambled to read up on the subject in order to help my new family. "I just feel worthless," Emily would tell me every time I asked her. "I turned on my pack. I attacked my Alpha. If the pack had suffered, it would have been my fault." The rogues had treated her badly, physically and mentally. As they abused her, they had explained to her how she had helped destroy her pack. The mental wounds that related to her traitorous behavior were devastating, the physical stuff didn't really phase her. I wasn't making any progress and she seemed to be getting worse. Finally, I called in the cavalry.

This was my fight and if I wanted her gone then I had to do it myself. “Let go of me, you filthy tramp,” She screamed, as I continued to pull her hair. I wanted to rip the hair out of her head in the most painful way possible and I think I had already done so to some of it. I could see a few strands falling on the ground and this was just the beginning. I pulled her far away from Asher to the meadow. With the witch dead, Emily was as worthless and powerless as a crumbled pyramid. “You’re truly a vile and ruthless being,” I spat at Emily.

Night fell. In the slums of Detroit, a faint light lit up the room. "It's such bad weather." Emily looked at the gloomy sky outside. She was a little worried. "I hope it won't rain." She walked to the bedside and sat down. It was the only furniture in the room. The drainage system in the slums was not good. Once it rained, a disgusting stench would spread. "It hurts." She was pregnant. She had a slender figure and fair skin, but her belly was disproportionally big.

"Just a little game." He shook his head. "I can't be a part of this." "Don't worry, darling," she said, reaching around him. "You don't have to be." A loud noise burst through the clearing. Emma cried out as she watched McWhorter fall slowly to the ground, his hands pressed to his belly. He was staring up at Jen, a look that was more disappointment than surprise in his eyes. She stood over him, his gun in her hands. "Such a nuisance," she said, kicking him so that he fell over, his legs trapped beneath him. "Not nearly as helpful as I thought he would be."