Astarion Scar Novels & Stories

"But it's okay," Leon said, "From now on, I'll try to stay by your side so you can get to know me better." He was right. Even though we had set a wedding date, Leon and I barely knew each other. Two years ago, my father, Nicolas Wilder, had fallen seriously ill. After his recovery, he expressed concern for me and started worrying about my future. When I returned to Axolis, I brought up the topic of marriage with Tristan, but he rejected me, citing the pressures of his career and his need to focus.

He started patting my back gently and I soon relaxed into his hold. I breathed in his scent and it sort of calmed my raging and turbulent soul. All the confusion I felt earlier began to dissipate and I leaned into his hold. "Nathan?" I called against his chest. "Yes, my Luna," he answered. "I thought getting healed from the scars on my body was going to put an end to my problems," I began. Nathan moved his hands into my hair and began to play with it by running his fingers through it. "I had no idea that the scars only changed their original position. . ." I trailed. "From my skin to my soul," I muttered. "And every day, it gets worse. . ." I went on.

I pulled the black cloak tighter around me and looked directly into the eyes of the man who had broken my heart on the sacred altar. "There is no link left, Colton," I said, my voice echoing clearly across the water. "You wanted a strong Luna. You wanted power. You threw me away because you thought I was nothing." I raised my right hand, unwrapping the white bandage with a slow, deliberate motion. The deep slice on my palm was completely gone, replaced by a flawless, glowing silver scar in the shape of a crescent moon. As I exposed the scar to the morning light, a faint hum of silver energy pulsed through the air. Across the river, three of Colton’s elite warriors instantly dropped to their

The searing pain in Seraphina’s wrist subsided into a steady, rhythmic thrumming that echoed the five celestial pulses inside her chest. She pushed herself up from the cold star-stone floor, supported by Kaelor’s heavy, stabilizing arm and Lysander’s vigilant grip on her elbow. The glowing mark of Queen Selenara—a crescent moon cradled by seven distinct stars—shimmered beneath her skin in brilliant, irremovable silver-violet threads.

The Adversary Dark Prince (POV) When people notice the jagged scar on my arm, their eyes often widen with worry, and they jump to conclusions that are far from the truth. It's a common reaction, especially in a world where scars usually hint at pain or violence. But this scar tells a different story—it's not a sign of suffering; it's a symbol of something beautiful and meaningful in my life. Each curve and line of the scar represents resilience and a deep bond that has lasted through challenges, showing that not all scars are reminders of hurt. Instead, it reminds me of love and the strength I've gained along my journey.

I open the attachment. I am at a loss for words at with, I see. It's Amelie passed out being carried by Matt. He has slightly pulled back the collar of her shirt, showing a black and bloody scar where her Mate Mark was. This is what a Scarred One looks like. I am horrified that she had to go through that. I'm pissed Matt is holding her. I shouldn't be, but I am. I stop for a second and re-read his report. I look at the time she completed the ritual, around midnight. Her wolf was harmed in the process, and she was bleeding and injured. It was all the things Rose and Daisy said. I closed the attachment and sat back in my chair.

She lay there beneath him, staring up at where he now knelt on the floor, rubbing his hands over his face as if chasing away the sleep that threatened to disturb them. “Aren’t your Betas looking for you now?” Alain’s throat bobbed. “They’re probably banging each other now.” She huffed a laugh. “For real?” He nodded. Her traitorous eyes indeed dared to look lower than his chest—but her attention snagged on the crescent moon scar on his wrist. Pale yet looking fresh. She suppose it is the mark of the Unbreakable Oath. Sasha never saw a scar—mark—of an Unbreakable Oath up-close before. But this…a shiver slithered down her spine. The scar looked beautiful—but brutal, somehow.

“My Luna should be the strongest and the most beautiful she-wolf in this pack. So that the other pack will be afraid of us and not see us as a clown and a laughingstock if we have a Luna who's weak and ugly.” I bit my lip; this didn’t seem to be going well. As he mentioned the last three words in his sentence, I could feel their heavy stares towards me like I was the exact person that he was talking about. “And Cassiopeia, according to the former Alpha, Magnus should be my Luna. However, she doesn’t possess any of the two characteristics I've mentioned. And she can’t even shift, she’s weak.” “In addition to that, I believe that the scars on her face are a curse that caused her father, the pr

We had been through a lot to care about my image in front of my own mate. "Are you two pretending that I am not here?" Astra pouted, standing up from the sofa to hug Scar too. "Honestly, I didn't see you there." Scar whispered. Her voice was rough and low as she spoke. "Here, drink this. It will soothe your throat." Astra handed her a bottle of water from my mini-fridge after kissing her forehead. After taking two full gulps of the cold, clear liquid, Scarlett abruptly shot up, hitting my nose with her elbow in the process.

"He doesn't want me, but he wants to own me. He won't let you just take me." Sanité’s jaw tightened, a muscle leaping in his cheek. "Let him come. Let him bring the entire Eclipse Star to my gates. They will find out exactly what a Blue Moon Alpha does to protect what is fated to him." He reached out then, his hand moving slowly, giving me every second to flinch or flee. His fingers brushed the hair away from the side of my neck, uncovering the faded, irregular scar where Kael’s mark sat, a dull, ugly reminder of a bond that had never truly taken root.