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The Scar He Scorned Novel Cover

The Scar He Scorned

Alpha Clark sabotaged his mate’s alchemical career 99 times, siphoning her soul to transform his supposed savior, Layla, into a master alchemist. He mocked the scars on the protagonist's back, unaware they were the cost of saving his life. Once the truth of his betrayal is exposed, she severs their bond and abandons him. Despite Clark kneeling for 99 days to beg for her forgiveness, the damage is done. This fantasy romance explores a debt paid in blood and a bridge burned forever.
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Chapter 4

"Step aside! How dare you be so rude to the Luna!"

One of the guards was about to shove me when a voice stopped him.

Layla, dressed in a magnificent silver gown, glided over, her face a mask of concern. "Sister Myrna? What are you doing out here?"

She turned to the guards. "Let her in." Then, in a soft voice loud enough for everyone to hear, she said to me, "Myrna, I know you've been under a lot of stress lately. All the failures... you've even started to suspect someone is sabotaging your work…"

A ripple of suppressed laughter went through the crowd.

Layla pretended not to hear. "I even wonder if Myrna thinks I've been 'borrowing' her ideas. But a genius's inspiration never runs dry, does it?"

She put extra emphasis on the word "borrowing."

Jealous. Delusional. Crazy. I had become a laughingstock.

Just then, Clark appeared. "What's going on?" he asked, striding over.

"Clark!" Layla immediately ran to him.

Clark glanced at me, a flash of irritation in his eyes.

He then turned to the crowd and announced in a placating tone, "Everyone, my apologies for the disturbance. This is Myrna. She's been… mentally unstable recently, imagining conspiracies against her. Layla has a kind heart and insisted on bringing her inside. Please, bear with her. Just think of her as… a charity case."

A charity case.

In front of all the nobles, he personally stripped me of my last shred of dignity and ground it into the dirt.

Inside the golden temple, Layla stood at the altar, basking in everyone's praise.

Halfway through the ceremony, I slipped out of the main hall.

Layla followed me into the corridor, her eyes glinting with undisguised malice.

"Congratulations," I said calmly.

"This isn't all I want," Layla sneered, her eyes wild. "I want to destroy you. Because you have something I can never have. Why? Why were you born with everything while I had to claw my way out of the mud?"

"So you stole my research."

"Stole?" Layla laughed. "That's nothing compared to what your parents left you. Without their ancient legacy, you're nothing!"

She suddenly leaned in close, her voice a low hiss.

"Aren't you curious? About how your 'genius' parents died in an 'accidental' alchemy explosion?"

My blood froze.

Layla's smile turned monstrous. "I'm the one who planted the unstable catalyst that caused that 'accidental' explosion! I'm the one who ended the Walker family line! As they died, they were screaming your name! 'Myrna, save us! Myrna!'"

Rage, hot as lava, erupted inside me.

My wolf broke free. Claws shot from my fingertips as I lunged for her face.

"You monster!"

Layla was ready. She stumbled back, deliberately tripping on her own dress.

"Ahhh!" she shrieked. "Help! Myrna is trying to kill me!"

The bloody scratches I'd left on her face made her look utterly pathetic.

Clark rushed in with a squad of guards.

His eyes landed on Layla on the floor, and he exploded with fury.

"She killed my parents!" I screamed. "She admitted it! She used a Blood-scent Catalyst—"

"Nonsense!" Clark shoved me away so hard I staggered back. "You've gone insane! Your jealousy has finally broken you!"

He knelt, gently helping Layla up, then stood and glared at me.

"Guards, remove her from these sacred grounds! From this day forward, she is banished from all holy sites!"

"Get her out of here!" Clark's command was a blade to my heart.

Two tall guards grabbed me roughly, dragging me toward the Temple doors like a dead dog.

My knees scraped raw on the cold marble, my beautiful gown tearing.

Behind me, I could hear Layla's triumphant sobs and see Clark's cold, retreating back.

Around me, I saw the scorn, pity, and smug satisfaction in the eyes of the guests.

They threw me onto the stone steps outside the Temple like a piece of trash.

Was I in despair?

No.

I pushed myself up from the ground, slowly, inch by inch.

I dusted myself off and straightened my ruined dress.

I didn't cry. Instead, I laughed.

As everyone stared in shock, I lifted my head.

My laughter echoed across the plaza, drowning out the hypocritical hymns from inside.

"Clark Drake!" I yelled for all to hear. "Your biggest mistake wasn't betraying me. It's that you have no idea what—or who—you've just thrown away!"

The moment the words left my lips—

BOOM!

With a deafening roar, the grand doors of the Temple were blown inward off their hinges!

Shrapnel flew everywhere.

And from the smoke and chaos, the Lord of the North, Logan Stone, strode forward.

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