10 | french quarter escapades
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀WREN SILENTLY CLIPPED THE FLOWERS, TUCKING HER SCISSORS BACK INTO HER APRON BEFORE MOVING THEM INTO AN OPEN VASE. A NOTE WAS UNDERNEATH IT ━ reading, "I want my necklace back."⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀It was a simple note, but it got the point across. She wanted to let her family know that she wanted what belonged to her.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀And now to the matter at hand ━ getting closer the Hybrid.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She imagined it wouldn't be too hard, given the strength of the bond that they shared. It seemed to grow the more time they spent together. She had a yearning to be around him all the time.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀It was infuriating, to say the least.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She was replacing her apron on the wall when the back door slammed open.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Well, well ━ what do we have here? A little witch, brewing up spell ingredients." A dark-haired man had entered the room, a dangerous smirk on his face. He had a list in his hands, as well as a sack. He dropped it on the floor, revealing small bags of ingredients ━ salts, herbs.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Spell-binders.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"I don't know what you're talking about," Wren answered easily. She dropped her scissors on the counter and looked straight at the man. "There are no witches here."
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Really?" He smiled a little. "Valeriya says otherwise. Marcel Gerard will be very interested to know about the newest heir to Svetlana Romanov."
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Wren sucked in a small breath. What was her mother up to now? Why would she rat her out to one of Marcel's lackeys?
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Either you come with me, or you die," he stated coldly, his hand falling on her arm in a death grip.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Her arm began to glow a pale red, her powers emerging in an attempt to protect herself.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀A sharp groan erupted from his mouth, his face twisting into a pained grimace. "You little bitch," he growled out, his hand grabbing at her throat. He squeezed, making Wren choke out a wheezing breath.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Wren, in desperation, pressed her palm to his face. The sharp sizzling of skin hit her ears before his scream did.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀He threw her off with an inhuman strength. Her back hit a glass shelf, shattering it and showering her in clear shards. They cut into her pale skin, making a ruby-red color leak from her wounds.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀A sharp ringing resonated in her ears as her head slammed against the floor. Blood dripped down her forehead, staining the white floors.
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[𝟷] 𝘾𝙍𝙊𝙒𝙉 𝙊𝙁 𝙏𝙃𝙊𝙍𝙉𝙎, 𝘕.𝘔. [EDITING]
Fanfiction𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬 | ❝ 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐢 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞? ❞ 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐖𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐕 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐘...