Something Worth Fighting For

Something Worth Fighting For

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Jun 12, 2015
Emily Grace Carter, one of the many rebels lined up around the gates of Hanove Hall, was more than ready for the fight that was about to come. ___________ Her mother and brother had been killed in the Trials and her father died after he took a bullet to the shoulder for his wife during the Trials, survived, murdered the entire neighbourhood in grief of his lost wife and son, and tok his own life after that. ___________ Emily picked up the bloody steel gun lying on her father's body. She didn't cry, she didn't scream. Instead, she stood silently and vowed "I have no one left. I will find you, Bram, and I will personally terminate your existence". The only problem is with no memory left, keeping that vow will be harder than she thought....
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Rosebriar

[A/N]: Hey guys! Before I post this story, I was going to give a little insight. A very good friend of mine and I decided to write this book, and what better way to recieve constructive critcism than to share with everyone here on wattpad? I'm proud to say that we're nearly finished with it, around three to five more chapters need to be written. However, I will gladly post two chapters a week. Depending on the length, I could possibly split each chapter in two. Enjoy! -Skye &amp; Jasmine My attempts to sleep failed miserably as realization hit me. Tonight was my last night unattached to someone. I swung my legs to one side of the bed. My bare feet brushed the cold floor and sent shivers up my spine. Scotland is much warmer this time of year. I took a few steps toward the window, but before I got too far I heard chatter just outside my door. "She’ll never be happy with him." The first voice, a female, was barely audible. "She could be. She’s just upset about Benjamin." A second voice, a man, replied to the woman. "She’ll never love Derick." A hint of anger played beneath the surface of the woman’s voice. I lay back down after that, so much for Emma accepting our marriage. Unhappiness coursed through my body and I became furious. I’d never love Emma either; with that I went to sleep. I dreamt of my mother singing in the castle, her voice was loud and demanding. Her words flowed so freely from her mouth and danced playfully down the halls. She was in the throne room singing to my father just as she always did. Her song was about the way she learned to love my father. Most marriages in Scotland are arranged, and due to our beliefs they have to work out. My mother had always been so madly in love with my father, but he was hesitant because he had to leave the woman he loved so dearly. So he let her go…

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