Novel & Cerita Beth Dutton Face Scars

She gushes, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the empty chair beside where she had sat. Her appearance is so much like her older brothers - the same midnight black hair brushes against her shoulders and those same piercing blue eyes seem to look through me into the depths of my soul. As she sits down, the large jersey which covers her arms slips to reveal the newly formed scars. She quickly covers them, shyly turning away from me as she busies herself with the tea trolley. Noting my observation, Janet pats her daughter on her hand before turning to me. "Doc has said the scars may take time to disappear… if ever. But we're lucky and grateful that Victoria is with us either way."

If Daphne wanted to a part of this life, she is going to have to learn the raw ugly truth of what we do. I wait for them to leave. “Show me!” “Show you what?” She pulls up her top. “The scar that she knows is there.” She pulls her top lip up. “The teeth that she knows are missing. What do you want me to show you Colt?” “Show me your mark!” She sweeps her raven hair back from her neck, flashing me the red crescent. It was more prominent than before. Raised because of my second bite. “What has that got to do with anything?” She continues to scowl at me

Feeling the warmth of her uncle who wore a thick beard and large scar on the left side of his face, his eyes soften and he stoke her back. “There, there my love. There, there. I’m here.” His voice sounds rough and gritty. His eyebrow has slashes with blood splattered on certain area. His clothes were shredded and claw marks covers his arm. Soon after, a few more survivor step out from their hiding place and Eve gave a sigh of relief. She wasn’t alone after all.

He laughs, and a shiver runs down my spine. “You told me all about dear old Aunt Betsy, remember? Wasn’t hard to pick up your trail.” “What… happened… to your face…” “This?” he gestures to the ragged scar that runs from his hairline down across his right cheek. “A gift from a cellmate. And that is just one of many that I owe you for, Brielle.” He tears his focus away from me long enough to scowl at Rita. “I wanted her lucid for this. How much did you give her?”

“I’m going to put butterfly bandaids on you. Your wolf is already healing this, and I don’t want to leave marks on your face from stitches.” We stayed silent as she cleaned my face and put the bandages on it. “Done?” I asked when she pulled off her gloves. “Yes.” She nodded at me. “I put some cream on it so the scaring should be minimal.” “Thank you.” Sitting up, Beau and walked back out to the waiting room. I was surprised how many men were there. Fuck, even Erica was sitting in a chair. “BRETT!” She ran up to me with tears running down her face.

He looked down at me and said coldly, "Lift your head." I slowly looked up. He was startled when he saw the scar on my face. "What happened to your face?" he asked. The bodyguard beside him avoided my eyes and quickly said, "Ms. Barnes accidentally cut herself." Jacob turned to me and asked, "Is that true?" I wrung my hands nervously, too frightened to speak. They had wanted to carve a mark of submission into my face. I struggled and ended up with a jagged scar. Jacob didn't ask anything else and turned to get in the car.

With each comment deleted, the user who did it bought themselves another inch of innocence in the silence. The next morning, Petra came back to the institute. She needed to sign some HR paperwork during her suspension. She came in through the side entrance. The turtleneck could not fully hide the fresh scratches on her neck. They were not from the bear. They were from her own fingernails. The scar on her face had faded to a pale pink under the fluorescent lights. The first person she ran into in the hallway was Danny. Danny had his left arm in a sling after being grazed by the bear's teeth. He had just come out of the records room. The two of them stood face to face for less than a second.

"Damn ugly freak, scaring the piss out of me! You've ruined my fun!" A group of men snickered behind him, reveling in the spectacle. The woman was curvaceous, clad in red—it was unmistakably Scarlett. But her usual radiance had been extinguished. Her eyes were dull, her spirit broken. A stark handprint stained her cheek, a grotesque mark on her once flawless face. Ignoring the man's relentless stream of insults, Scarlett continued mopping the grimy floor as if she hadn't heard a word. Frustrated by her silence, he lashed out and slapped her hard across the face.

A burn of pain ripped through my face as she dragged the sharp tip of the scissors down the unscarred side of my face, engraving a thick line from my hairline down to my jaw. I screamed in pain as blood began to pour down my pain. "Rest in pieces, Darcy." I lay there, feeling my life slip away, too drained to even cry. I may have lived my whole life with a horribly scarred face and been branded a monster, but that day, I realized that there were people worse than monsters.

The scar is a container and a protective space where the memory can be stored and endured privately. The causes of scars remain in storage in the body and the mind, and sometimes can shape actions for a person’s entire life. That's what Beneath The Scars is going to talk about . It's going to talk about how to never give up without a fight. W A R N I N G The book contains scenes of self-harm, mentions of abuse and suicide, themes of grief and depression, and sexual content towards the first half of the book . Readers are requested to proceed with caution. Please skip if you see any scene that you may find triggering.