Dawn came with a grey light filtering through the cave. I’ll go scout. Stanley rose. Careful,Helen." Helen and the maid she came in with walked in as fast as their legs could carry them. This time without whips but clothes . She was led outside through a back door . Helen ordered them lay her on the pelts and took a scrap of cloth to dip in the river. The water was cold. Scar wished she could heat it and bathe herself . Helen knelt near her and unwrapped her dirty legs from the furs, frowning at the bruises on her arms. "She has been ill used, I told Damon. We must go slowly, and earn her trust. We will care for her, we will never allow her to be hurt again." Stanley said to someone she didn't see but she could hear him and it didn't strike her she could hear the conversation despite the distance. With the rage beating in her chest, she only hoped it was true. And she was yet surprised on how Helen became human overnight and the sudden change of attitude of the clan . There was d
With her head held high, Scar allowed the she-wolves to lead her out of the room, down the wooden steps that wrapped around the trees, and down to the forest floor. Early morning light filtered through the thick branches overhead, dappling the ground with patches of hazy light. If it wasn't for what was about to happen to her, Scar might find the forest at dawn beautiful. The she-wolves ushered her past the tall trees, along a worn path, and deeper into the forest. She could hear the murmurs of many voices up ahead, but she couldn't see them. However, when the trees parted, Damon was the first thing she saw. He waited for her by a tree at the edge of what looked like a clearing up ahead. He was resplendent in his clothing, a handsome prince dressed in a tailored suit with a white shirt and black tie. A gold chain hung around his neck, disappearing into the collar of his shirt. His dark blond hair was slicked back, and his blue eyes were cold and bright as he watched her approach,
Damon heard a bang as he tried to lay in bed , he walked as fast as he could to the chamber Scar was . Only two find three of his pack wolves dead on the ground and four figures had swarmed into the room Scar slept . Two were already on Scar's side of the bed, a hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her screams as they dragged her naked body from the bed aggressively. It was hard to see who their attackers were in the darkness, their shifting, quick forms difficult to pin down even with Damon's wolf senses active. He could tell from their shapes that they were goblins, but why were they here? Traitors? Had the rebellion happened already, and they were here to end his reign before it truly began? But the second they touched Scar, rage unlike anything he'd ever felt before pulsed through him like a rabid heartbeat. "Don't you fucking touch her!" Damon growled, pulling at the threads of his wolf soul deep inside him and pulling it out into the open. Just like that, he shifted into
Damon's grip on the knife faltered. It felt as though the world tilted on its axis, and he took a sharp intake of breath. His brother ? How could Stanley be the one to betray him? They had always been close, closer than Damon had ever been with any of his siblings before they'd been slain. "How dare you accuse my brother of treason!" he raged, advancing on Chants with the knife raised high. "I trusted you! You've been my agents for years, and now not only would you conspire to kill me, but to blame Stanley for your crimes?" "I—I saw him with my own eyes, Damon. For a long time, he was anonymous, but then just a few months ago, he revealed himself as the face of the rebellion to us all!" "Liar!" "Please—please, I was just following orders! Stanley is the one, I promise!" Chants cowered against the wall, shaking her head back and forth as Damon descended with the knife. She squealed when he placed the blade against one of her floppy ears, but she made
Without another word, they continued down the narrow staircase until they reached a point about halfway to the bottom. There, they turned off to the side, following a thin trail that wasn't paved like the rest of the city, which led to a sharp cliff that overlooked much of the Underland from above. Damon slowed when they reached row after row of small mounds of dirt with intricately carved wooden doors covering them all. To Scar's surprise, there were fresh flowers placed atop some of them, and lit candles flickered from atop wax-covered headstones. "Are these ... graves?" she whispered, taking in all the markers. Damon nodded solemnly and gestured for her to follow him as he made his way toward one grave in particular that had been adorned with many more flowers than any other marker. Most were withered and old, the leaves and petals little more than paper, but whoever had been put to rest here, they were surely loved. The door above the grave was weathered and c
Several months had passed since Damon last visited the Underland and the palace that had belonged to his father and the wolf kings before him. Built upon the worn hands of wolves generations ago, the palace was as elegant as it was militant, with sprawling halls and soaring pillars that stretched up to the sky-high cavern ceiling. As Damon strode through the palace, Scar at his side, he could feel the eyes of the wolves upon him, their distrust and loathing as clear as day. But he would not be cowed. He had committed to his plan, and to Scar, and he refused to give up on change, no matter how impossible it seemed. He watched Scar's awed expression as they wandered through corridors filled with gaudy furnishings and paintings. He knew after the last few days, she deserved a moment of rest, but Damon found himself restless after the discovery that his cousin was the one scheming against him. Sleep would not come to him, even if he immersed himself in the welcome scent
His free hand slipped from her stomach and underneath the short length of her dress to tease her thigh. Scar gasped and arched her back as Damon's fingers brushed against the sweet secrets hidden at their apex, light but insistent. She was already wet, soaked through her panties, and he wondered just how long she'd been waiting for this. When had she started wanting him , when both of them had expected their first time together could be their last. Now,Scar ached for him to touch her more. It physically hurt him to hold back, but for all he knew, this could be their last time, even if their first had not been. So Damon was content to take his time, exploring her body with gentle hands and lips. He wanted to memorize the way she tasted, the way she smelled, the little sounds she made when he touched her just so. He wanted to brand her into his memory so that even if they were apart, she would be with him always. Perhaps it was selfish of him, when she was the one who'd initiate
Scar hadn't thought it would be possible for Damon to grow more distant from her, but despite her efforts, it was as though he had become mist falling through her fingers no matter how hard she tried to close her fists around him. Just when she thought she was starting to understand the man, he went and became something else entirely. Damon hadn't touched her since. She'd tried to tempt him. Perhaps she should have felt embarrassed by the wanton lust she experienced for the prince, and the extent to which she'd been willing to go to just for the hope of glimpsing the kind heart beneath his mask. But he didn't budge or break. He'd become stone.And his brother whom she had trusted first was still no where to be found. After four days of Damon speaking with his advisors, of coming up with plans that Scar was excluded from, at last, he came to her to act on their intentions to go to Scanthin without her and speak with her father, the alpha of the Scanthin pack. Shortly a