Silas Scratch Novels & Stories

​Silas Cross stared at the crimson error text flashing across his personal data-pad, his eyes bulging as his fingers frantically clawed at the frozen interface. ​"No... no! This is a glitch! I built this army! I own these men!" Silas shrieked, his voice cracking as he slammed the golden device against the marble podium, shattering its glass casing. He pointed a trembling, desperate finger down at the vanguard enforcers surrounding him. "Shoot him! What are you waiting for? He's just one man! Kill him and I will double your salaries! I’ll give you private estates in the Upper Dome!"

That hadn't been there last night. ​"Your scar?" My fingers reached out, wanting to touch it. ​"Don't be rude," Draven scolded me, grabbing my hand to lay on his chest. ​"It's okay." Silas chuckled at us. "It's from my brother, years ago. One day we got the idea to play with silver swords to see who was really the strongest. He got me here." His finger brushed his eyebrow, and I wanted to lick him. "But I got the better of him." Silas winked at me then turned away from us to take a seat.

It was an extremely rare, first-edition printing of The Wealth of Nations paired with an original collection of industrial-era philosophical essays—the precise texts they had fiercely debated during their very first official night in the penthouse. Jillian opened the heavy cover. The aged paper crackled softly in the quiet room. But it wasn't the rare print that made Jillian’s chest tighten; it was what was written on the inside cover. Glued to the parchment was the original, burnt fragment of the first page of their companionship agreement—the section containing their names and the original title, The Silhouette of Us—saved from the hearth before it could turn completely to ash. Beneath it,

"You look even more beautiful than I remember." He reached out to touch her, but Afrah flinched away from his touch, seared by the attempt. She was repulsed by his touch, and her skin crawled at the sight of him. The hypocrite had the audacity to smirk at her, leaving his hands outstretched, within inches of her face.

💔Hidden Scars💔 (😱😵More Unraveled Secrets😵😱) By: Kã Mä Râ . . ✏Written By: _____Authoress Kamara✍_____ . #Season_2: ✨Episode 24✨ . . 🔞🔞The scene below is rated. So if you hate it, don't read it. Just skip it🔞🔞 . 🌹Natasha🌹

A smile of a devil. He hold out a hand and then reached for her face. He caresses her small pale face with his big palm and long fingers. He touched and tapped her cheek gently with his thumb. It was cold. Her face was cold and she was close to having frostbite. He frowned at the texture. It was unpleasant to touch. His thumb went to her lips next. He rubbed it and instead of feeling the soft, delicate, and plump feeling he always felt before, his thumb felt a whole different texture. It was rough as sandpaper but as his finger wandered, he touched a sticky liquid.

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?”

Damian (growling): “She’s mine.” Back at the Red Parlor… Silas pulled back, lips swollen, breathing heavy. Silas: “You don’t belong to him. Not really.” Lydia’s voice shook. Lydia: “You don’t know me.” Silas (grinning): “Not yet. But I will. I want more than your body, Lydia. I want what you’re hiding.” He leaned in, brushing his lips over hers again. Silas: “I want your sins.” And in that moment, Lydia realized something far more dangerous than lust.

Marcus asked as he spanked him again. "Are you crazy? Let me go!" Jason thrashed wildly, trying to escape, but Marcus was stronger. "I won't stop till I get an answer. Will you be scrubbing again?" Marcus asked. "No! Alright. Let go!" Jason gave up. Only then did Marcus spin him back around. Jason was out of breath. The sight of him this vulnerable made Marcus soften slightly. He got off him and walked over to the cabinet. He easily took out a first aid box a mnd returned to the bed where Jason laid limp.jason could not believe what had just happened. He may have doubted this before, but he was sure now. Marcus was crazy.

Every Alpha on the ice plains held their breath. Silas's ashes withdrew from the edges of Marcus's boots. He extended his hand. Palm facing up. The Lily of the Valley mark gleamed with a faint, pale gold light in the snow-glare. Then he turned his hand over. Back of the hand facing up. That hand had been shattered three hundred years ago. When the back of his skull had been cracked open, he had fallen to the ground. The back of his hand had been shredded by broken stone. When the wound healed, it left a scar. Impossibly fine. Extending from the web of his thumb to his wrist. He held that old scar toward Marcus.