Wretched Emily Mcintire Novels & Stories

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.

"Emily, Gimson was taken away from me at birth, and I never even got to hold him properly. It's us, the Scott family, who owe him. It's only right that he harbors a grudge. I've been trying to make it up to Gimson for all these years. He's suffered for over twenty years, living in the shadows like a sewer rat, and now he's finally experiencing a normal life. Emily, please don't expose him. Let him live like a normal person, okay? I've already lost one son; I can't lose another." Emma grabbed Emily's sleeve, but she was shrugged off forcefully. "What about Derek? Who's going to help him?" Emma burst into tears, saying, "Derek is dead. He's gone." Emily's eyes filled with disappointment. Just

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

"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."

For a second, I just stayed there with my forehead on the dirt, gasping. “I can’t,” I wheezed. “I’m done. I’m done, Emelda.” I expected softness or even a hand up, or for her to at least tell me to take a break but instead she marched over with her arms crossed, and stared down at me without pity. “Get up.” “I can’t—” “Get. Up.” Her voice was hard. “Think about what Maxwell and his family did to you. You think they’re not sitting in Crestwood right now laughing about the fat, broken girl who let them ruin her?” The words were cruel.

Scarlett used to be a spirited superstar who would always take my side, but now, even standing was a struggle for her. As for Emily, the head of the Parkers who always had a calm air about her, she was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt, but I could still catch a glimpse of the dense scars on her wrist. New wounds intersected with old ones, and it was a terrifying scene to behold. Emily was the first to speak up. She could barely hide the tremor in her voice. "You're back." Scarlett staggered up to me, her eyes reddened as she said, "Ade, I'm so sorry… You can hit me and shout at me all you like, but please don't leave me again, okay?"

“And if Aislen’s in labor, we’re going to need food for her.” “Good point,” Heath conceded as Ember released his wrist. “What’s with the gloves?” He added. Rhett found a young witch under the rubble. She’d been impaled on a piece of twisted metal but was still alive. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Sure, no problem,” he said as he lifted her up. She screamed as the metal was pulled through her. He brought her neck to his mouth and bit, feeling no compassion for her. They had stolen Aislen, perhaps intending to steal their baby, and that made them his enemy and food, not people. And it was a better death, he reasoned as her heart slowed, than the zombies would give her.