Epilogue Five years later Snarl stared down into his mate’s eyes. This was their fifth anniversary of being a mated couple. Damon, godfather to their six children, all twins, had taken them for the night so Snarl could show his woman how much he loved her. “You’re tormenting me again,” she said, whimpering. He turned her over, dripping some cream onto her back and licking up the droplets. Pressing the strawberry to her lips he watched the plumpness take the fruit. “We don’t get much time alone anymore. We’ve got to take as much time as we can.” It had taken him over three weeks to get Damon and Scar to agree to take their kids. In all fairness all three sets of twins were not the easiest children to look after. Snarl adored them, but he was pleased for them to be out of the house so he could have some quiet time with his wife. After convincing the collective that she loved him, Hazel had accepted his marriage proposal and that very same night he gave her his mating m
The child toddled into the room with bleary, fearful eyes and a burning lantern in hand. Save for her light source, which should not really qualify for one as the lantern had been designed so small for her size and was meant as a deterrent for the ghosts under the bed; the room was pitch dark. The windows were tightly shut and the room smelled……funny.She scrunched up her little nose, unaccustomed to the smell that was not her sister’s sweet-smelling flowers in spring scent. Maybe her sister let in one of the stray dogs again. But the thought had barely registered before she heard the muffled and grunting sounds from the bed.“Sara?,” she called hesitantly, barely hearing her own self as she made her way closer to the big four poster bed with the lacy, frilly lavender curtains all around it.That was another thing that was off. Although Sara had insisted on the curtains and had put their mother through a whole lot of ‘face wrinkling stress’ as their mother would call it, she had nev
“Scar!”“Ughhhh,” she grunted and burrowed deeper into the warm bedding.“Scarlett Shaw!”“Godddddd,” she groaned with her eyes tightly shut, knowing from the closeness of the voice it was a matter of time before the two hundred pound of muscle barged into her room.How she hated Alan Shaw. How she wanted so much to strangle him. How she wanted so much to take out his innards and shove them down his……“Scar!!!!,” he screamed at the same time he slammed the door open into the wall, interrupting her sweet thoughts of things she wanted to do to him.“…his wide throat,” she finished her thought out loud, even if it was more of a grumble.“What was that?,” Alan asked, making his way towards the bed.“Leave me be,” she replied and dragged the covers closer around her.She felt him drop down heavily on the bed but made no move to acknowledge his presence. If she ignored him long enough, he would let her be.Well, not that it ever worked in the past. But who said she could not hope, even wher
Walking into the courtyard felt like walking into a death sentence. It was a long time since she saw her family gathered.Ok.Maybe not so long.They all put aside whatsoever they might be doing to have breakfast every fortnight. It was a tradition her father started after Sara’s death and it seemed like the family was about to break apart.Not that it did much in mending the gap in communication, seeing as conversation was usually limited during their breakfast. Much of the talking was usually done by her brothers and father but at least, the tradition kept their family together and relatively sane.Scar felt her father’s piercing grey eyes as she entered the room, eyes she had inherited.She did not have to look up to know it, she felt it just like she felt every breath, every sigh and every regret and condemnations in their heart as she moved closer to them.Alan stood up and smiled at her, drawing back a chair for her. But she did not bother returning his smile. Neither did she
“We have never been this far away from the clan’s territory on our own. We should go back.”Damon Hunt stared shrewdly at the path behind him and for the umpteenth time, he was convinced it was the right one. If he was one to listen to what anyone says, he would be back with his clan already, instead of wandering around looking for a tiny blade of uncommon grass.He needed the stupid weed desperately. He would enter into the enemy’s territory if he had to, as long as Stanley his brother stopped whining for a second.“I do not think this is a good…..”, Stanley trailed off at the cold, deathly stare directed at him. If he was a lesser man, he would have whimpered or cowered with his head bowed but he continued staring his Alpha in the eyes.Well, maybe that luxury was because they weren’t just Alpha and Beta, but because they were brothers.Still it wasn’t too long before he lowerHe was just worried. He could not seem to be able to shake off the ominous feeing he had been getti
A week had passed with Scar being left in the dungeon without a decision made about killing or keeping her . With the awareness of whose child she was Damon have been taken aback with his decision. The approval of his dying father mattered so much to him . The wolves believed that whoever sat on the throne ruled their kind, but Damon had sat on this throne for three years, and it was his opinion that the throne ruled him. At least, it did right now, as his ass was sore and his head was worse off for the incessant bickering coming from the wolves settled around the fire below the dais. The discomfort made him irritable and less inclined to listen to the arguing voices. They shouted at one another so fitfully that they didn't notice how Damon nursed his piercing headache instead of listening to their crap. "We should just kill her and be done with it," one wolf said, his voice high and shrill. This wolf was Shadow, one of Damon's chief advisors. He liked to jump to violen
Damon hated the words as they tumbled out his mouth. When he said them, he thought of them as a lie. He would do anything in his power to avoid slaughtering the witches and starting another war, but what if there was truly no stopping it? What if the Scanthin acted against them, and they were the ones to start it? What if he had no choice but to act and protect the wolves? Would he hesitate then? "As you say," Stanley said. "Then we will leave to prepare to fulfill your commands." Damon waved a hand, and the wolves shuffled away, leaving Damon alone inside the main room of the tree with nothing but the crackling fire to interrupt the silence. Sweet silence. The wolves of Scanthin meant nothing to him. That was a fact. He had fallen in love with a witch from Scanthin, Star Kante who became uncontrollable and unstoppable because of her powers . She killed a lot of wolves , she was feared and it took a while for her to be captured. Damon loved her so much and
Damon rubbed his eyes. He wanted to believe that. It was stupid, really. If this whole thing with talking was just meant to get him to drop his guard, then it was working. Wasn’t he smarter than this? He tried to pull his anger and hate forward, to shield himself from unfortunate emotions—but he was so tired of being angry. He sighed as he turned toward her. "How many witches are in Scanthin ?” “I only know about one,And that is me Scarlett." Scar murmured, holding herself tightly.Damon advanced on her and she backed into the wall, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Why should I believe you?” “Because… because it’s the truth. I don’t have anything else to tell you. I don’t know what’s going on right now but you have to believe me. Damon pressed her into the wall and wrapped one hand around her throat. Gently. Not hurting her. Just wanting to see her reaction. He had no intention of actually killing her, after all. “I could kill you now, if you want.” She met his eye, her head f