Romans & histoires Silas Scratch

Silas’s clothes were completely destroyed, and he stood bare before me, his tanned skin glistening with sweat under the faint moonlight. I tried not to look, but my traitorous eyes traced every line of his muscular form—the sharp planes of his chest, the broadness of his shoulders, and the scars that crisscrossed his body like a map of battles fought and won. His black hair was damp, sticking to his forehead, and his dark eyes burned with barely contained rage. “Lillias,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Are you all right?” I nodded quickly, though my pulse was still racing. “I’m fine. Scarlett…” I paused, glancing down at the shreds of my dress. “Scarlett made sure of that.”

Silas inquired, still in a tone that tried to be gentle. Kiara was too focused on the scar on his face. It must have cut into his pride, and she couldn't help but be pleased with the thought of what Silas had gotten himself into. If he could think straight, he should have made it a consideration before trying to touch her again. But if there's the slightest deterred in him, he didn't show it at all. The scar only made him a new person. With even more madness and the burning ambition to avenge what Dave did.

"She blacklisted us... that ungrateful, treacherous little whore blacklisted us globally! In front of everyone! The entire street was watching us get thrown out like garbage!" "Shut the fuck up! Both of you!" Silas roared, his voice a guttural, terrifying boom that echoed through the empty foyer. He stood there, his expensive suit dripping dirty water onto the pristine marble floor, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. His eyes were bloodshot, burning with a dark, murderous rage that made even Lydia freeze in her tracks.

Ezra growls. I’m stunned, unable to think for a few seconds. He exposes my neck and shoulder, but before he can plunge his fangs into me, Serge tackles him. Ezra—in a rabid state—turns and like a wild animal, claws at Serge, slashing his chest. At the same time, Ezra bites him on the shoulder and takes a chunk of meat out. “No!” I scream.

I was lying on my back, my ears ringing with a high-frequency whine that drowned out the wind. I looked at my hand. The gauntlet was gone, replaced by a jagged, blackened scar that ran from my knuckles to my elbow. The girl was gone too. There was nothing left of the drill or the child who had saved us except a shallow, glassy crater where the earth had literally melted. "Kael." Silas’s voice was strained. I felt him grab my collar and haul me to my feet. He looked like he had been through a thresher. His bone mask was cracked down the middle, revealing one wide, bloodshot eye that darted frantically toward the sky.

My teeth had fully extended into sharp fangs, scraping against my lower lip. Down on the cold, bloody ice, Silas’s body twitched. Slowly, painfully, Silas pushed himself up on one hand, wiping a smear of dark blood from his mouth with the back of his glove. He pushed his dark, wet hair out of his eyes and turned his head toward the bench. His golden eyes locked straight onto mine. "Look at that," Silas rasped, his voice broadcast faintly through the ice mics as a dark, bloody smirk spread across his face. "My little rogue is barking for me."

Get me a saw. **Tito:** Here boss. **Kai:** Hold out his dick. (Kai stood up) Lucas pleaded weakly. His eyes were full of fear and he struggled with the little strength he had left. Tito’s boys held Lucas and Tito held the cap of his penis. Kai sawed it off gently. Smiling as Lucas screamed, blood and catarrh coming out of his nostrils. Blood gushed out of the spot his penis once stood. Tito’s boys let him go and he fell. He kept muttering inaudible statements. His lips moved and it looked like he was probably saying his last prayers.