Battle Scars By Paradise Fears Lyrics Novels & Stories

I passed out naked, bloody, and alone but free; after ten years, I was free. I had just done the unthinkable. I completed the rejection ritual marking myself as a mate rejecter, a pariah in my community. I not only rejected my mate but my old pack. My whole identity to that point – was gone. I was now scarred, no longer marked. Now, I carry the black scar created by the silver blade, and I reject the mate made just for me by the goddess. The cursed life of a "Scarred One" is what I must look forward to now. The sense of loss was foreboding. Was what I lost the only cost for my freedom from my mate bond?

His other hand sneaked under her neck and grasped her shoulder. He felt a sense of relief to hold her back in his arms after so long. Suddenly, her screams when he almost raped her due to his drunken state, flashed through his mind like a lighting bolt abruptly making its way through the serene clouds. The terrifying memory of her screams and helpless cries flooded his derma with goosebumps. The devastated face when he forced himself upon her. Each scene is still fresh and vivid in his memory as if it was just a sin from yesterday. He held her closer while silent sobs escaped his mouth.

He threatened, causing my heart to sink into my belly. "Don't you remember me or you don't care?" I asked slowly as tears dropped from my eyes. I raised my palm to his face, showing the scars I got from slashing my palm last night to save him from the trap. His gaze fell on the scar, and he squinted his eyes like he was trying to understand what it was. I stared at him, feeling my heart thud louder in my chest. Fear was sipping in, and this time, it wasn't the fear of how huge he was or his powers, but I was afraid of his rejection, afraid of him denying ever knowing me. I was scared he would ignore the sacrifice I made to save him from the trap.

"Oh darling , when you say you see your scars in the mirror when you stare. I say, I see a warrior who fought her battles without fear. When you trace your skin and say it won't repair. I say a scarred tissue is stronger than a normal one without tear. And finally when you smile, to say you are are not like those beautiful girls anywhere. I smile to say my Scarred Beauty could never be compared." - suzangill ... Wear your battle scars, not as a flaw but an ornament. And see them shine even brighter than gold and diamonds. Mold your weaknesses into your strength, To become the best version of the scarred beauty of yourself.

I stammered, bowing my head, not daring to meet his gaze. He moved closer, As he drew nearer, my heart quickened, anticipating his touch. I readied myself for his kiss, knowing deep down I wouldn't be able to resist. I closed my eyes, longing for his lips to meet mine. But instead, his hand gently landed on my shoulder, tracing the scars that adorned my skin. "What's all this?" he asked softly, his voice filled with worry and care.The marks on my body are simply the scars of the beatings I've endured from Alpha Lowell, and indeed, the entire pack, particularly Luna Desi.

The firelight dances over our faces, showing the deep feeling in our eyes. “I need you to know something, Xander,” I begin nervously, clutching a small charm that has been with me through many problems. “Every scar on my skin, every wound, it tells a story—a story of pain, loss, and sometimes, hope. But I fear that some of these scars... they might break us apart if we allow them.” Xander’s eyes soften, and he takes my hand in his. “Aria, those scars are proof of your survival. They are signs that you’ve survived pain and still stand here, stronger than ever. They don’t define you...they improve you.”

My ribs ached with every breath, my cheek throbbed where Robert's ring had cut me, and my hands still trembled from gripping that switchblade. "Whiskey," I told Marcus, the bartender who'd seen me at my lowest points. "Double. And keep them coming." He looked at the bruise blooming across my face but didn't comment. That's why I liked Marcus—he understood that sometimes people came here to drown, not to talk. The first shot burned going down, but it was a good burn. The second shot went down smoother. By the third, the edges of my pain were starting to blur. I was reaching for the fourth when a voice like warm honey interrupted my self-destruction.

Small. The night air stung her skin, cruel and cold. But it was nothing compared to the icy terror in her heart. Her eyes locked on the crest etched into her skin. It pulsed faintly, a living brand, proof of what had been done to her. How do I explain this? Will they cast me out? Will Father turn his back on me? Am I already ruined? “Explain!” Her father’s voice lashed across the clearing like a whip.

Ryan raised the chair in his hands, and with a swift motion, brought it down on me, his eyes cold as they met mine. I was paralyzed by the fear in my eyes, unable to move. "Ah!" The pain shot through me like a jolt of electricity, and I couldn't contain the blood-curdling scream that escaped my lips. My fingers were crushed instantly, mangled and bleeding, as I stared at them in disbelief. The physical pain, sharp and intense, barely compared to the crushing weight in my chest.

i replied [Scars to your beautiful- Alessia cara] She just wants to be, beautiful She goes, unnoticed she knows, no limits She craves, attention she praises, an image She prays to be, sculpted by the sculptor Oh, she don't see, the light that's shining Deeper than the eyes can find it Maybe we have made her blind So she tries to cover up her pain And cut her woes away 'Cause covergirls don't cry After their face is made But there's a hope that's waiting for you in the dark You should know you're beautiful just the way you are And you don't have to change a thing The world could change its heart No scars to your beautiful We're stars and we're beautiful