A/N: Be patient with me, please. I haven't wrote anything in a while. I'm getting back into the swings of things. Future chapters WILL be longer. But here you go! Scarlett is back.
Chapter One
They always caused such a struggle.
The male withering on the floor in pain choked on air as he fought to inhale. Blood coated his forehead and matted his hair to his head. His face was battered – lip split, eyebrow torn, skin bruised.
He was holding his side, a tortured expression creasing his face.
He was a grotesque sight, such a startling contrast to the young girl standing above him.
Scarlett loomed over the silently crying man, eyes drinking of the sight of his pain. She could smell his fear – his confusion and it acted as fuel to her drunken mind. The sounds of his whimpers had her heart racing with excitement, and the sight of blood had her salivating.
She felt more Wolf than human as she watched his attempt to claw away from her, grunting as his bloodied leg made contact with the ground.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Her voice was soft – controlled. Her body was vibrating with suppressed energy, and she knew her eyes would be faintly aglow.
The Wolf in human form just grunted, forcing his body along the floor – the sound of his grinding teeth sharp in Scarlett's ears.
It irritated her. The agony painted on his face, the desperation in his eyes. The lust was there – begging for more blood to be shed, but she attempted to force it down. Not yet.
She strolled along slowly after the fallen Wolf, analysing him. She watched on with a keen eye, traced over his dirty blonde hair, his tanned physique. She wasn't impressed. He was – or had been – a low ranking Wolf. In the wrong place at the wrong time.
Though she wasn't quiet in her perusal, he was completely ignoring her, panting for breath. With his good arm he dragged himself along, straining away until the last of his strength faded and he collapsed in a defeated heap.
Scarlett leisurely made her way towards him, kicking his damaged leg so he'd roll over onto his back. The Wolf growled weakly, pained etched into every line of his face. The scent of fear was near suffocating now – and it cocooned Scarlett in an sweet smelling embrace.
Crouching down onto her haunches, she looked down at the battered Wolf. And smiled.
It wasn't a nice smile.
"I said – where do you think you're going?" Her head tilted to the side, inhaling deeply. "I don't like being ignored."
The Wolf spat at her. Looking down in amusement, Scarlett saw he'd managed to spit a bloody mess over her hand.
Why that little.
With a smug expression, she maintained eye contact with the feisty Wolf and raised her hand to her lips, only to slowly run her tongue over the sharp tasting essence.
The Wolf's eyes grew wider as she savoured the taste, slowly – dragging out the moment. He began to struggle again.
Always struggling.
He cried out as his leg hit a fallen log, but before he could gasp for well needed air, a clawed hand was suddenly wrapped around his throat.
The Wolf stilled instantly. His heart skipped a beat. And another.
YOU ARE READING
The Legend of Scarlett Grey
Werewolf(Rewritten Version) Scarlett is hunting. Hunting a threat she doesn't understand. A threat she only knows from a voice in her distant memory. She's searching for the voice and the man along with it. Why? She doesn't know. Who? She doesn't care. She...
